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July 21, 2006
"Home And Away" brought to you by Red Bull
34 days, 4527 miles, and 11 countries. What, when, how and why?
What: Summer holiday. When: Err... This summer? Over the past four-and-a-bit weeks. How: Flying is so uninvolving so I opted for the motorbike. Why: Purely for the hell of it!
Fully loaded and ready to rock. ©
After baking an apple pie and serving it to the company with some vanilla ice cream after class on the last day of work I loaded the bike up, pointed the nose towards Newcastle and twisted the throttle. I've gone through Europe a couple of times before, kind of. Once from London to Helsinki in two and a half days and the second time, a year later going from the army to work for SB, from Helsinki back to UK dodging reindeer and the odd moose via the Finnish and Swedish Lapland and the Norwegian coast, but the bike broke down in Trondheim so that doesn't really count. I haven't done any longer journeys on this new baby, so it was all learning and excitement. The bike, a thoroughbred red beast, is lovingly crafted by the dependable Italian engineers, so I was slightly worried about the longevity, but it took the abuse, the off roading in Latvia, the motorways, the cities and the mountain hairpins without a single word of complaint.
I was originally supposed to take the ferry from Newcastle to Gothenburg, but since I only learned so late that I could leave four days earlier, I was stuffed for tickets for the Gothenburg ferry and had to take the ferry to Ijmuiden in Holland. 1100 kilometers later I was in Gothenburg at my cousin's place. Almost on the right day as well: about 2am the next morning.
Over the bridge and in Sweden. 11pm and only 300km to go. Viva Red Bull! ©
Screaming for joy with Freddy: 1000km down, 100 to go. ©
So I got to Sweden and hung around a day with a cousin of mine that I hadn't seen for some 9 years. The second day I spent with a friend of a friend who turned out to be a rather fetching tv producer and a local celeb. Lovely. Gothenburg is a nice town... Should go back some time with a few more days to spend in there. After the 'Big G' I wrestled Sweden down and ended up at my aunt's place on the other side of the country some 700km away. The sauna was ready, I had the beer and the river was looking mighty inviting. Three days passed very peacefully hanging around with my aunt, her boyfriend, my other cousin and her daughter and husband. When the human company got too much I retired to the cabin to listen to the Finnish radio, enjoy the sauna, drink the beer and cull the local mosquito population. A kind of soft landing to Finland.
Summer, sauna, beer and river. What more could a man want? ©
When the time in Sweden was over I headed for Stockholm to catch a ferry to Helsinki, got stuck in a traffic jam, missed the ferry and had to catch the next one to Turku, some 160km west of Helsinki, also known as the arse of Finland. Hideously ugly people and horrible Polish entertainment ensued. On the plus side I had an interesting chat with a 65-year-old marathon runner and precious metal dealer in the middle of the night, in German.
I got to my friend Artzi's place in Helsinki and found him and another friend of mine, Jussi, (You got it right, the same evil spirits that came to Glasgow last spring.) leaning to each other and offering me a drink as soon as I'd peeled myself out of the sweaty leathers. I guess I wasn't going too far that night....
The next morning it was time to head to the countryside for the infamous Midsummer's Night bash. A dash in the rapids of the local river with my brother got the weekend started. Since my dad was no good for company I prefered the local farmers. Sauna, sausages and plenty of booze!
There are prettier men in Finland than me and Lordi would have you believe! ©
After a quick pop for a sauna at my brother's place I headed to my mum's place for some more sauna and rest. (In case you wondered, I had sauna most days and managed to test four different varieties of which the electrical ones were always the least impressive.) The house I grew up in felt so small...
1.30am the Finnish style. ©
Then it was time to head back to Helsinki. Just a short hop of 500 kilometres. A few days of chilling out, plenty of people to see, free tickets for Billy Idol's concert, a friend flying over from New York and a wedding in the neighbouring Estonia. I sure know how to load up a week. It was cool though: my friend, who suffers insomnia, slept for most of the time, we went shooting with Finnish heavy metal blaring and the trunk full of guns and the wedding was unforgettable and unrememberable at the same time. A great week all in all!
Miss Eve Mutso so lovingly becoming Mrs Risto Oja. ©
After all that it was time to get back on the road. Monday morning in Helsinki and the same night chatting with a US government agent in 'a late night entertainment club' in Vilnius, Lithuania. World is a weird place. The roads were rubbish and the scenery equally as boring, so I was forced to stop off at a beach on the north side of Riga, the capital of Latvia, to meet some locals. What a chore!
The Latvian roadworks that pissed me off so. ©
The Latvian locals that delighted me so! ©
6am in Vilnius. ©
The next day I blasted past waving children in remote Polish villages on Europe's worst roads. The result was an epic night in Krakow, on of the most beautiful cities I've visited. nice hotel, good food, great service, even better beer and even better scenery! I did the touristy thing around the Old Town in a riksha and ended up talking about the beauty of puffins and the finer points of piss-artistry in a cellar with some locals who were contemplating on throwing up on a newly aqcuired thesis.
Krakow by night. ©
My ride. ©
The next on the schedule was a couple of days in Prague. I loved the roads of Czech Republic so much that I even enjoyed lying in a ditch for a while! It's a lovely country with some great scenery... After the beauty of the countryside arriving in Prague was such a pain with the hideous signposting and even worse one-way system that I was forced to really hit the town to make the balance positive again. As firat impressions go, the place was like a crab-ridden whore with a really pretty face. During the night it was full of drunken tourists and the only locals I could find were selling what ever they had to offer. During the day the city showed that pretty face again with amazing architecture and a whole different crowd of tourists. Compelled to do the tourist thingy I hitched a ride with a bloke called Robert in a red 1960's convertible Skoda. Great views and some funny rows with the binmen. The night was setting in and I decided to sit in a restaurat to watch the birds fly by and to listen to the jazz festival. Maybe during the night I would find the bongo shops to beat out a few tunes of my own... There was plenty on offer, but it was far too commercial for my taste. On the other hand found somegreat scenery, a few lovely locals and Dante's Hell in the form of the self-styled 'Biggest Music Club In Central Europe'. In the morning of my departure for the short hop to Zwickau in Germany it was raining, so I was forced to find a restaurant for a breakfast and a shelter. To my surprise, and annoyance, they had a Finnish menu. Prague will be done again in excessive style in the close future with some partners in crime...
Jack wasn't at home so I moved right along. ©
You can't argue with that really. Prague sure has it's pretty sides. ©
A breakfast in Prague. ©
Dodging the border hookers I arrived in Germany and decided to take the scenic route to Zwickau. Where is Zwickau and why am I going there, I hear you asking. Zwickau is some 100km west of Dresden in the eastern Germany and just around the corner of Sachsenring that hosts the German round of the MotoGP. For those of you who don't know: MotoGP is the far more exciting motorcycle version of the Formula1. These guys ride carzy 260bhp bucking broncos around a track bashing into each other while doing 150mph mid-corner! The brass on display during the practice day was so inspiring that I sacrificed a full tank of petrol for the gods of speed during the same evening. The race day itself was something else: 220 000 screaming fans and I managed to hook up with the craziest bunch of Finns to drink the Germans under our foldable table! Once we were done we carried our table and benches out and staggered to our respective hotels. For the Germans I'd give 0 points for tournament endurance and 10 points for organisation.
The Finns in the blue tops and a few kindred spirits that needed help with their burden. ©
The last day was az hideous hung-over blast through Germany and Holland to catch the ferry back to Newcastle. The head was sore and the tires tired but at least I had a couple of litres of the splendid Zwickau brew in the tank bag to take home. Once back on the Isle of Mist I popped over to check out the new Dance City building in Newcastle. It's designed by the same guys, MalcolmFraser, as our future home. Nice space for the community purposes. It's be easier to have a proper dialogue with the architects after seeing some more of their work. Af ter a couple of hours of oggling at the pretty building it was time to had back home the scenic route: A68 and A72 took me through some of the best scenery of the borders and reminded me just how many beautiful places and roads there are just around the corner from Glasgow. I know what to do with the next few weekends!
To sum the whole summer up I'd like to attach one last photo I took in Vilnius:
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