This is the end my friend

Ive made a few musical references on the blogs up til now and while Ive been thinking about this blog the one song thats came into my head a lot has been 'This is the end'. Never been a huge fan of The Doors but even the bands name seems to fit.

A month after stepping in through my own front door again and its been strange. How do you make that transition from waking up in the morning and just wondering what to do or get up to for the day into that of the world of work. Not only that but I made it into home on the Monday, work on the Friday and then only a week later I find myself sat in the middle of the North Sea for nearly a week.

Travel wise theres been the possibility of some other overseas work and a carrot still dangling but its not the same. Not the same as just getting out and doing a big trip like Ive done here.

So Im back, some doors opening and some doors closing. Ive seen and bumped into a lot of friends and family yet theres so many Ive not caught up with. To all who have tried to support or keep in touch, thank you. For those who just read the blog, thank you too, the self publicist within me has found it interesting to write these and even more interesting to see the stats of all the countries who have logged in.

That said Ill end this blog here, thanks for reading. Oh, and close the door on the way out...

It's been a while...

Back to the temporal references again but it's hard not to because it's been an age.


Following a near miss with arrangements the other day I made it down the docks today to see an old friend.


It took a while and thankfully only one cut but I managed to get the bike signed for and start stripping the crate.


Inside I found my bike in excellent dry packed condition with even bags of silica gel to keep things good.


Before I knew it, and with only a little chat to the guys at the depot I managed to have the bike uncrated and off the pallet. Now just time to put a few things back on.


And before I knew it, I was off. Its great to see the bike again, even if I might not be on it too much over the winter period. Welcome back...

Location:Aberdeen harbour

Over the sea

Anyone remember Jesse Rae? I don't really, I think he might be a one hit wonder from a good few years ago and might have been famous from a song that was in a film (Im listening to the song as I type this early part of the blog, you can find it on iTunes if you are interested). I would google it but Im back in a plane again for the first time in a month or so and the last time for a while although it looks like Ill be in a helicopter wearing a rubber suit again in early November. Like the last time I wrote a blog from inside a plane Im feeling a little strange. Strange in the sense that I am flying, and also that there's another end to part of the adventure.

Why over the sea? It's Jesse's song. Why am I thinking of it now? Well, I'm over the sea. Just past the southern tip of Greenland to be a little more specific. It's also came into my head because of my brother, someone who along with my father has came into my head a fair bit these last few days. You see my brother had the 12" years ago and I remember listening to it as a kid. I'd raise a glass for those we won't see again but there's no free flowing booze like the last flight I blogged from.

The song has came to an end. Like so many things. Everything moves onward though and there's always memories. There's always something to look forward to in the future too and I feel I've plenty of these moments to come.

Like the changes in life the trip has brought to me I've managed to see, feel and observe all sorts through America. As I've travelled further East I've experienced a huge amount of changes in the country. The changes in people and their attitudes have been pretty big and the polarised attitudes I've listened to on talk radio have been interesting too.

There's also been change in the sense of the seasons, it's gotten colder, and quickly. As I drove north toward Chicago the temperature took a dip and although it's still not desperate there's been a continuing shift over the days to the point where I find out that only days after leaving northern Vermont there's been a fourteen inch dump of snow in one ski resort.

The biggest change has been picking up a travelling companion. After stalking her through her trip to Uzbekistan I have had the pleasure of Lisa joining me since Chicago where state by state we have both enjoyed the transition from what seemed to us to be a really chilled atmosphere in Chicago to what felt like busier yet a little more edgy life in Boston right through to the brash life in New York.

Although each of the cities I've just mentioned above has been very different in location, layout and attitude, the biggest contrast continues to be that with small town America where no matter where you stop there's a a smile, a friendly approach to you and genuine interest in what you are doing. This saw one particularly short sharp moment on a ferry between New York state and Vermont when the woman guiding us onto the ferry seemed really pleased to see a Californian plated car arrive and utterly overjoyed to have a Scotsman and Irish woman aboard. Just as quickly as this moment arrived it faded as we drove off to another experience at the home of Ben and Jerrys ice cream. There has only been one Deliverance style moment in a tiny place within the Adirondacks but in itself it was quite funny. It drove us to find a different place to stay the night which was fantastic between the funky little motel we stayed at and the great place next door that we ate dinner in.

So, the title of this blog is 'over the sea'. Im trying not to sound too philosophical and state the obvious yet again but it's an example of the end of an era, a change in times, a swap of experiences. Im flying back to the UK now, separately the bike has arrived in Southampton and the trip is over other than slowly making my way back to my own front door in a land I know only too well.

Small and large there's a change to be had in everything we do and a metaphorical body of water to cross. For now I'm going back toward familiar surroundings and although sad that a huge and exciting section within my life is drawing to a close I'm looking forward to the future (if not the mountain of mail I understand is waiting for me at home).

Location:The Priory,Ballyclare,United Kingdom

Where am I?

I think I've done not too badly with my temporal challenge from a few blogs ago but as time moves on I have had a few 'moments'. The moments started a long long time ago and to be honest I can't quite remember where although they are pretty exciting. I don't know if there's anyone reading who gets themselves into situations where they wake up in the morning and wonder where they are but from student days through to now they have appeared on semi regular frequency for me.

There's a few student ones not up for discussion, and then there's a few student ones where I move flat and find myself uncertain about where I am, or even at holiday times when I moved back to my parents. Then there's times through work where I've wondered what city, what country or what platform I've been on.

All of these feelings pale into insignificance compared to this trip though. How often do most people wake up in a bit of a stupor in a tent in Kazakhstan? How often do people look out of a tent in Kazakhstan totally uncertain about what's actually happening only to find themselves isolated in a field away from the world outside and looking at the mountains bordering Kyrgyzstan? Kyrgyz-what?


For anyone considering a spot of travel like this I can only recommend it. The uncertainty of not knowing where you are or what you are doing is really fun, and exciting. It leads you to all sorts of situations. It leads you to meeting all manner of interesting people doing all manner of things and let's you see the world away from your doorstep.

Strangely as writing this I feel like I'm just stating the obvious, how can you go on a trip like this and not meet people with interesting stories to tell. How can you not get into situations where you have no idea what happening around you or even where you are on day to day moments. That's where I am at the moment. Stating the obvious yet it seems like I'm not stating the obvious on a day to day basis but feeling and experiencing things freshly and newly.

An example of this is my new traveling companion, Lisa. From Uzbekistan till Chicago she has been on a different path but is now traveling with me as I take these final few steps on my trip. While on my last entry a few weeks ago I admitted that I was feeling, seeing and experiencing things in America in a greater depth than I could have imagined previously I'm still having those experiences. Today, in amongst all the other observations we drove through a small town in New York state. There was another town of the same name we drove through in another state a few days ago and Lisa wondered whether an American trait many of us Europeans find strange was related to the number of towns with the same name here. It seems perfectly normal and natural here to say that someone visited for example Paris, Texas. Taking that a step onto a foreign holiday it now makes more sense that someone should say that they went on a trip to Paris, France. While for me it always seemed like an almost stupid thing to say, that you went on a trip to Paris, France, when you consider the number of towns with similar names here then it starts to makes sense why a city name should be qualified with it's location in the world.

So the thrill of not knowing where you are is great, and still continues for me into slightly more familiar land. The pleasure of finding out, or figuring out something new is fantastic and that's where this part of the trip seems to be the gift that keeps on giving.

In the last few weeks Ive learned a bit about Budweiser when I went to the Budweiser factory. Today I learned about ice cream at the Ben and Jerry's factory. A few weeks back I learned about vacuum cleaners in the museum within a vacuum cleaner factory and shortly before that I learned about barbed wire in the Devils Rope Museum. I've also learned a lump about cheese during a cheese factory tour and tasted a load about American culture (and sport) when Lisa and I not only went to a college football pep rally but watched a game too and that's after we went to the federal reserve in Chicago.


Within all this I now will be much less negative about everything surrounding American football, will appreciate American beer much more, continue to eat cheese and ice cream and also I hope be much less dismissive about things that seem at first instance to be a little off the wall.


After all, where else could I be but America to spend two hours each learning about barbed wire or vacuum cleaners. If you have half a chance and haven't yet then go, get out there, experience what happens by chance as you take a few steps. The world is not a bad place and it will open your eyes when you give it the opportunity.

Location:Vermont 108,Stowe,United States

Brownsville turnaround on the Tex Mex border

I've learned a load on this trip, most of it has been new to me but now I've arrived in America there's a level of familiarity borne from previous experience, from tv and films and also I guess the internet. I've gathered my opinions on the place based on these things and over time gained my own prejudices.

On this trip however I've approached many of these thoughts again, largely based on my time overland. Based on my time so far in the USA this trip, on a few moments overseas and specific ones such as wandering through Winslow in New Mexico where there's not a lot happening but railway tracks running through carrying immense trains while the rest of the town is in decline from it's Route 66 heyday.





In most of the other countries I've been in I've tried to think about where the country has been in history and how it's developed within it's own borders as well as outside. Since arriving there's been a few occasions where I've gotten a bit wound up about big plates of food, the sense that the food I've eaten doesn't seem all that fresh and what seems to be a wasteful approach to lots of aspects of life. Las Vegas has been a major turning point in these thoughts for me and I've afforded the country the same respect I've given other countries on this trip.

As part of this the train tracks and also Route 66 are a tale in themselves. Telling a story of a country on a journey. Trying to get somewhere. In some respects like Route 66, destroying parts of itself to try and find a better way to the destination.





As a European it's easy to scoff at Vegas, at the waste, the electricity burned, the huge buffets in every hotel, the faceless entertainment of it all. When I made it down to a shopping area called The Town Square I found that it is laid out like a pretend prettied up town centre. I wandered for a while and let myself get wound up at how false the place was.





Then it hit me. There's not a load of history. I've known that for years, like I've known the people are more likely to move town for work than Europeans. Like I've learned over time that the distances between towns and states is much much larger than I once could comprehend.

So I thought about that shopping centre and yes it's false but I look back to home and the shopping centres I see there. The new ones are false, constructed to order in a manufactured fashion leaving areas of town elsewhere to effectively rot and slip downhill to the point that businesses don't see the sense in paying to sort out difficult untidy areas. What do the people do? They flock to them. Maybe we aren't that different.

History wise, there's not a huge amount (other than the native Americans but for a variety of reasons I'm going to put them respectfully to the side as they have largely not driven the country to where it is from the points I'm considering here). This shows itself in the young girl tonight who's best friend loves Scotland, but has never been despite always looking at photos and saying how beautiful it is. Also in the guy the other night who loves Scotland and was desperate to travel to Belfast... Then the day before there was guy who was Scottish, well his grandparents were. From my own history I've a load of examples like this but realistically there's not a depth of national history like many other nations have. It's a fact and there's no shame in it, it's a young nation.

Then there's the cars. I'm now driving a Jetta, not a big car in the grand scale of things but it's got a 2.5l engine, I'm not sure if they sell them with engines that size in Europe. I got out of the car the other day and was stood next to an American "Chelsea tractor", a big Ford truck with a 6.8l petrol engine that looks like it's never seen any dirt. Now there's a change happening and the cars are getting smaller over time as far as I can see from my experience, but they are generally still much bigger than the rest of the world.

It also seems to me that the cars, the huge buffets, the huge food portions, the twee shopping malls and ridiculous competition to make the biggest and grandest hotel / casino is a function of how much wealth they have here as a nation (again I'm ignoring huge issues such as the national debt, lack of social care and personal credit issues). There is and has been a load of cash visibly sloshing around for most of the population. There's been the ability to make things better, more comfortable, better.

This last point here brings me back full circle again to the train, to Route 66. I was in a small town called Grants today, a small town which grew thanks to the railroad, exploded (figuratively) thanks to uranium mining and then collapsed following the end of mining. It's a story seen over much of the rest of the nation of not being overly rooted, of being able to move, to change to make things better for themselves and their families.

So here I am in a nation with relative wealth, a desire to find itself and a need to make things better without being encumbered unduly by history or real threats to it's own borders (unlike much of the rest of the world with invasions within their histories). A nation with space to do as it pleases and the lack of fear to get on with it.

It's easy to kick the country as it's problems are obvious to all whether they have been here or not. I continue to see a lot of stuff I don't like about the country but this trip, like those through so many other countries has allowed me a new view over and above my earlier preconceptions. In that sense I feel lucky to feel that I understand the place more than I had before. Although I knew much of what I've written here prior to this journey there's a sense of comprehension I don't feel I could ever have had without seeing and understanding like I have in this last few weeks. I'm glad I'm here.

Location:N Main St,Roswell,United States

Countries IV

My last installment of the countries blogs is here. Leaving the US should be straight forward enough so there won't be much to add.


MONGOLIA

Well, as you no doubt noticed from another blog I had to enter Mongolia under my own steam with a broken down bike. I freewheeled down to a concrete apron where I waited for half an hour or so with a fuel truck and a family in an old YA3 (youaz) jeep while the husband and wife had an argument.

Eventually an old Lada bounces over the countryside and stops relatively close to me on the other side of the fence. He makes his way to where there's a break in the fence, wanders through and waves the drivers over to a fly filled cabin. Once inside it's obvious that he wants to charge for disinfecting the vehicles. Outside is a pit with a ramp in and out and a puddle of what looks like rainwater inside, regardless I hadn't gone through it because I didn't want to push the bike up the far side after freewheeling slowly down the hill. 30 roubles later I was in possession of a piece of paper and shortly afterwards was ushered through into the Mongolian border post.

After what must have been 45 minutes and a couple of minor charges that I forget the value of but mustn't have been more than a few pounds I was through following a brief passport control, obligatory costoms check with vehicle registration and my first health questionnaire of the trip. The lady behind the glass disinterestedly stamped and signed the form before Im off again.

Pushing the bike out of the border post I wait for Mr Disinfectant to return bearing assistance and eventually enter into another wee adventure but not before some guy and maybe his granddaughter claim about ten pounds from me for insurance.

The roads really are non existent. Following advice from my new found mechanic I've stayed on what I assume to be the main roads through the countryside from Olgii after I get the bike running again through to about 400km short of Ulaan Baatar where the road turns to Tarmac again.

Doing this has meant that I've been riding the roads travelled by buses and trucks along the length of the country. After meeting two guys in no mans land between the border posts they advised to stay on the northern or central route through the country because it's apparently far more interesting and less sandy. Although I hate riding in sand I figure that the southern route may have more chance of resembling some form of thoroughfare which will benefit my choice in doing the trip without GPS.

The roads themselves have resembled single track routes, bumpy rocky tracks, eight lane highways through dry fields and almost good quality packed surfaces for short spells. I've ridden over mountain passes, past beautiful lakes and through rivers. Some of the water has been at least three feet deep and totally soaked me while the sand has a given me a few frights. I've also had my time off the bike with one of the worst spells laying under the bike in mud.

I've occasionally seen police in cars, mainly Hyundai ones, there's been a few riding or standing beside Chinese 150cc bikes but mostly they seem to stand around. Meanwhile there's predictably a lot of 4x4 cars around, some Russian and a lot being Japanese with the Toyota Landcruiser being one of the more well represented ones. Perhaps the most frequent sight has been the sight of old Hyundai cars in various states of degradation and which seem to flex as they drive past.

Within Ulaanbaatar I only really seem to see police traffic cars which are all fairly new Hyundai Accent models although occasionally I see an old Furgan with some lights on the top of it though Im not sure if these are police. In town the driving is pretty poor and resembles the worst of what driving I have seen so far but merged with the most insane lack of patience. Given that, there's not as much horn blowing as you might expect but everyone tries to shoehorn into the tightest spot possible, pushing and squeezing everyone else out of the way before racing off as quickly as possible. What can be really frustrating is the way that a three lane part of road widens to four lanes to allow a left turn across traffic before some drivers squeeze to the front of the left three lanes and start indicating left. Theres only one lane to move into so it turns again to chaos. Meanwhile there's three lanes of traffic behind trying generally to move forward but can't because of the left turn palaver and they are all trying to squeeze into one lane and getting angry about it. All good fun to watch but you won't get anywhere quickly.

Roads wise, on the last 200km into Ulaanbaatar and the 350km or so to the Russian border the roads are reasonable tarred roads allowing good progress.

Which brings me onto the border itself.

I approach the border from a local town on the Mongolian side which allows me a pretty clear view over some fields into the first town in Russia that I'll see again. On the way up through the city there's a small Citroen car driven by three Finns that passes on the Mongol rally and I get into the border post without issue.

The first border point is a simple vehicle check and I'm passed up the road into the main border building where for an hour of almost constant movement Im passed from one person to another with at least half of these movements being at the whim of a general hand wave. Whilst everyone there is pretty relaxed I do get a bit hacked off with passing from side to side, inside and outside without any real idea what or where is next. I also find myself filling a form in at the request of one official, noticing some paperwork beside where I'm standing but as I'm not asked to fill anything else out I don't pay attention. This is until five minutes later when one person passes me to another, who passes me back to the desk with the form who then eventually says I need to fill another form.

My pointy elbows also get some fresh air because of the way us Brits like to queue versus the locals wish to barge through everything. Eventually my dirty looks, wide pointy elbows and decision to deal with no personal space allow me to get through the final passport stamp without issue.

There's also a final check of the passport which happens at every border crossing. Whereas every one I've had so far is a simple look and wave through I join a queue of traffic that just seems to sit there. After what seems like an eternity but is actually only ten minutes another official comes up to where I am, asks in English if my passport is stamped and simply tells me to go before moving to the next car to talk. I take no second prompt, jump onto the bike and squeeze past thinking as soon as I hit the Russian gate there's nothing anyone can do even if they change their minds.

For all it was a faff it only took an hour and I was back through to the efficient organization of the Russians.


RUSSIA (pt 2)

Russia, despite stories of bureaucracy and nightmare border crossings proves to be the exact opposite for me again. I've got myself up to the first border post where I'm given a form by a very professional lady then told to move up the hill a little. In the line for getting the passport stamped I fill In the immigration form I've just been given then walk to the front of the line of traffic where I deposit my stuff in a window only to be asked no questions and get my passport back a few minutes later all stamped up. The next part is the worst part and simply entails a thirty minute wait in line before another lady helps me fill in the customs form, takes a cursory look in my panniers and welcomes me to Russia. The whole process is friendly and simple, taking only an hour. I later however hear that some Polish guys take four hours getting through and have a bit of a nightmare, no idea how this all works out.

In the border post I get to see a couple of cars coming through for the Mongolian Rally only to be barked at by one of the guards to maintain separation of the entry and exit streams. Further on there's a chirpy guy waving enthusiastically as he drives his old ambulance toward me and I'm well into a series of roads over 4000km that are largely good quality with a few construction sites where you can be riding over hardcore rubble, gravel or torn up roads on the way past active construction vehicles as they try to build the road. At some points on the Amur highway you are maybe 15m above ground level as the way they build the roads is simply to dump gravel, hardcore etc onto the ground to build up a foundation above ground and grade the roads level for a final surface.

The other striking thing about the roads is the cars. In amongst a few older left hand drive cars and trucks are the right hand drive ones and maybe half of the traffic coming west is Japanese import cars on transit number plates. The number of right hand drive cars slowly increases as you go east til you get to Vladivostok and it's a small minority that are left hookers. This comes right down to the fact that most of the police cars are also right hand drive. It also makes for some interesting driving as the impatience many of the drivers have means they barrel along behind the car / bike / truck / van in front, swerve hard left to try and get a view of the road in front, swerve even harder back in again to avoid a collision with oncoming traffic then repeat until they get past. Amazingly my only experience of a Russian accident was about five feet in front of me as a pedestrian in Vladivostok when a car skidded into the side of another turning left across traffic.

Meanwhile my experience of the land is one of surprisingly little variety. Although it alternates between flat and hilly the landscape consists of birch forest or swamp in the main all the way over though the size of some of the rivers is hard to comprehend when coming only from a small country.

Suddenly it also seems that there is road signage again. From the almost absolute absence in Mongolia to the fairly clear signs in Russia it's a refreshing change although it falls down at intersections and also in towns. My experience in towns is that there's good clear signage of how to move toward Vladivostok apart from at a number of pretty key junctions and turn offs. It's a big thanks to my traveling partners GPS for getting through some cities with sanity.

On the way out of Russia I have a really easy time of it. Deciding not to sit in a stairway or small room with lots if other passengers I have a relaxed and comfy few hours waiting for anything to happen. When it does it takes no time at all to get through a cursory xray of my bag, then a passport stamp before I'm off. I was pointed in the direction of a customs agent when I bought my ferry ticket and didn't complain which I think was a good and clever way to sort the notorious Vladivostok customs out. For me I had a few hours accompanying the agent one day and another hour the next. It could have been a lot longer and a lot more stressful.


JAPAN

My second arrival in country by ferry brings me to a small town called Sakaiminato. Getting relatively close to the head of the line for coming off the ferry means I'm through customs and immigration in twenty minutes and it couldn't be easier but that's just for me. The bike is a different story and I have some traveling partners on bike also who give me some company over the next day and a half as we get the bikes through a customs check, sort some other customs paperwork out with the carnet, get the carnet authenticated at a town 30 - 40 kilometers away then arrange insurance. By 3pm on Saturday after arriving at 9am on the Friday we are free to leave on the bikes. For me this is by far the biggest faff border of the trip so far but at least everyone I deal with is terribly nice.

Freeing ourselves of the border we are now on local highways but given the high population density the vast majority of the roads are through some form of civilisation with limits set at 50kph. Its hard work getting through distances but at least the towns are very well signposted with English translations underneath each of the lines of Japanese writing.

Driving isn't particularly hard but mentally it is. There's a load of people on this small island and the hilly areas are largely kept clear which leads to the busy corridors which just drive you mad. At points the only way I could tell I was in a new town was the repetition of car garages.

Meanwhile the alternative is the expressway system which allows more steady travel but at a cost. The 400 odd kilometer trip from Sendai to Tokyo costing nearly 6500 yen which at an exchange rate of 130:1 sterling turned out pretty rich.

All the while though there were precious few police on the wander and the predictably safe Japanese driving style made for easy filtering even with bulky panniers. I did see a few red light cameras but these were always front facing which was a bonus even on a foreign registered bike as being at the back of a trail of bikes made for some choice red light action.

Exit from the country took no time at all. I left by plane and it was like any old airport border while the bike was just dropped at a packing warehouse to be processed when ready in my absence. All very easy but quite wrong to be away without the bike.


USA

LAX arrives after a pretty painless flight and getting past immigration was no trouble. Seattle even easier because it was a domestic flight. Once I arrived there were a couple of quiet nights in town and then onto the road in a big white Dodge Charger which lasted pretty well for a few days until someone drove into me. It then lasted pretty well until something seems to have happened with the transmission and then it's time for a Jetta.

There's been a strange mixture of stereotypes and clichés along the way with a few surprises. At the time of writing I'm down in the southern states and have stayed in some pretty small places in backwater old route 66 towns with huge plates of food served in places such as the 'Roadkill Cafe' where some of the helpful public information signs are no smoking alongside no firearms. Good to know. Yesterday I stayed in one motel where there were ten vehicles outside and half of them were big trucks.

Meanwhile the west coast route involved some crazy twisty little roads that at this time of year were pretty quiet though surprisingly foggy. The west coast being a good reason to have a Japanese or European bike while Route 66 is a fantastic reason to have a thumping old Harley, and most folks do.

Otherwise I'm no stranger to the US although this trip is giving me a different perspective. It's a big place with a lot of changes and contrasts although there's always plenty of signage, plenty of accommodation, plenty of food and plenty to see.

Location:E 3rd St,Winslow,United States

Honey I shrunk the car

Well, that's been just over a week since I arrived in America. Been fairly eventful too with a quite long trip down the West coast through routes 1 and 101 from Seattle to Santa Monica within the city limits of Los Angeles. Im going to try and stop harping on about being on four wheels instead of two after this but there are some fairly obvious points of note about the change from increased fuel consumption through to a physical sense of isolation from the elements as I drive on through what has at times been some fantastic scenery.

Another thing Ive noticed about the change is that I'm just some other guy in a car now. Gone are the days of people approaching for a chat because I'm different and the plate is strange, in that sense it's a much quieter trip than I've had up till now.

All the way down the coast I've been at the edge of a large area of cloud and fog broken by spells of sunshine (later in the trip Ill be glad of the car as I move north into fall). This has resulted in some spectacular moments shifting through the clouds with the fog rolling overhead or breaking suddenly to show some fantastic coastline. At some points I've seen through the fog a little within the Redwoods as the light has provided amazing shafts of light over the road. At other points I saw not a lot, like when I sat in Sausalito across the bay from San Francisco only to think I might as well be looking down Union Street in Aberdeen on a bad day such was the gloom in the distance.





As far as the car is concerned, it was a nice treat to be upgraded to the Charger, a big, very American piece of metal. Quite a comfy old boat really and it was a proper shame when as I drove into a car park in Oregon only a couple of days after picking the car up that someone decided to reverse into me as I drove past. Not a disaster but I would have been much happier had it not happened.





What was more disastrous for the car happened a couple of days ago when I was in the middle lane on a stretch of freeway when the traffic stopped moving. I decided that I wanted to move into the right hand lane which was still moving so booted it, the auto box kicked down and I remember seeing a
flash of the rev counter into the red line just before the rev limiter kicked in. A second or so later the check engine light was on and blinking while there was a chiming noise from the dash. Ho hum.

Already up to about 60mph I came off the throttle a little and the engine and transmission felt jerky and horrid. Moving into the far right lane I came off the road at the next junction and after turning the engine off and on again the check engine light stayed on.

To cut a long story a little bit shorter, within half an hour I was at another rental location with the keys to a VW Jetta in hand. As an American spec it's a 2.5l variant so still pretty gutsy and has much more European handling and comfort so that's good, it will probably save me a few dollars in fuel too.





Im at another crossroads in the trip too, literally as well as figuratively. I've done as much of the Pacific Coast route as I had planned and will be changing direction from southbound to eastbound in the morning. The route will change from a very coastal one to a land bound one which I expect to bring a great many cultural changes for me also as I drive through the deserts, the south, Marlboro country and back up close to Canada again as I traverse Route 66. Its going to be a real American road trip.

The next stop? Treasure Island! Arrrrr!

Location:Pacific Terrace,Santa Monica,United States

Sittin by the dock of the bay

I've done a fair bit of travel this past week, moved eight time zones and then three states south. I'm sitting across the bay from San Francisco although due to the fog that's been over much of the west coast on my way south I can't see the Golden Gate bridge or Alcatraz. Meanwhile Ive picked up a Dodge Charger rental car and had someone drive into me as I moved through a car park in Oregon.


All is well otherwise and although I'm kind of glad to be able to sit wearing a pair of shorts and not fuss about packing stuff away too tidy due to the big boot on the car, I am missing the bike and the last couple of days drive on Route 1 would have been fantastic on the bike. If I was in any doubt then the big smile on the R1200GS rider I spoke to earlier in the day would dispel that.

In comparison to the rest of the trip it all seems so easy now. I'm warm, or cool as required, there's a wealth of choices for accommodation and eating, and the roads are smooth and simple. It's all quite a contrast.

Location:Princess St,Sausalito,United States

All change

What did I expect from this trip? I'm not sure, I still dont and it's not over yet. Not by a long shot. I did think on a lot of occasions about people saying that 'they need to find themselves'. I've never understood that. I've always been where and who I am with a very uncertain future, not in a bad sense but only in the sense that I don't know what tomorrow brings.

So here I am, heading towards the date line, LAX then Seattle on a Singapore Airlines 747-400 listening to the Cooper Temple Clause really quite loudly after eating the Japanese selection dinner and drinking a few glasses of wine following a stiff G&T. That's today.

But what does TOMORROW bring...

I'm not sure. It's part of my uncertain future. There's people reading this, don't know how many but I know there's some, who don't know me. For those who do then I guess over the next short while you will get to know Lisa, someone I got to know quite well in Uzbekistan and who I hope will be a more certain part of my future.

Now I remember speaking to a few people, not many, about how the trip might pan out in respect of how I might feel at different points. I had thought that Japan might feel like a bit of culture shock as it's kind of western yet very different, with a hugely different language and style of writing. Lisa told me that her thoughts on the topic were that Japan will be a continuation of all that's been happening for me over the last few months (there's four of them!) and that it's going to be North America that's going to hit me as strange.

I have to be honest say that Japan has came and gone. It feels like part of the trip. It also seems strange to have been part of someone else's trip with the rutasamurai boys but it's still been part of the trip. What has hit me tonight is that I'm back on familiar territory on a plane and that feels like a shock.

I'm on the lower rear section of the plane and for anyone familiar with South Park I feel like Token. Not that it's strange to feel like the only westerner in a space but it's a familiar space for me and I do feel strange. I can speak more than broken English though and Ive had my first drink of wine in nearly four months. I've had a choice of foods described really well in English as well. At the minute it's hitting me hard and I know that tomorrow will hit me really hard too. I didn't give Lisa credit for how this might feel but it is real and it's now. I can only imagine that tomorrow will be another blow as I land in Los Angeles before Air Alaska takes me north to Seattle.

America isn't new to me. Between skiing holidays, effectively drinking holidays and then time at kids camp it's not going to be too strange. I've also had an urge for years to visit Marlboro Country following being sucked into advertising campaigns. What is going to be new at this moment in time is the mode of transport.

I've had people say to me both on a positive and negative note that I don't do anything without having a good think about it first, yet on other occasions I know I can be hellishly impulsive. I guess that's like my belief that I'm incredibly shy and nervous yet can sit in all manner of situations and confidently make a fool of myself or speak out. Getting to the point, the biggest change for the next while for me is going to be the transport and this choice had to be made quickly.

My lack of planning, impulsive grab on some information and stubborn determination led me to Japan. I drove to Japan. On a motorbike. Pretty much single handedly and on my own, believing that I'll find a way round any problems that turn up. This approach brought me to an expensive dead end where the prices for taking the bike to North America didn't stack up and the time I have left before getting really worried about paying the mortgage back home was running out.

In the end I took the decision to ship the bike back by sea freight from Japan to Scotland and rent a car to get me to my destination in New York. This change is eating at me at the moment and Im not happy in so many ways. In a sense I feel that I've failed, I set out to ride around the world and due to a time and expense factor I've made a monumental change.

There have however been a few defining moments of the trip in the last few days (or at least in close proximity it feels that way). One is sitting in Starbucks in Roppongi Hills the other day looking back through photos on the camera with the immense rush of memories crashing back through through me every time I hit to see the next photo. Another is this very flight and the changes and feelings it's bringing to me. Also there have been a couple of occasions today where I realize I'm still planning a huge road trip through America which will allow me to say I've driven around the world, allow me to see the Pacific Coast Highway and Route 66 and visit a wealth of places on the way.

I also remember back to my last biggest spell out from the world of work which was six weeks and it felt great other than some stress with a family illness. I've still got six weeks left of this trip before hitting the real world again and that's way beyond most peoples expectations of a holiday on it's own.

So here I am with changes in lifestyle, work, transport, finance, continent, understanding of the world amongst so many other things and now I'm really only moments away from the date line according to the airplanes moving map.

It's time for more changes any minute. Ill satisfy myself for now with an old habit from working overseas of dropping off to sleep with Snow Patrol playing very loudly to help me face rest and another day on what is, and will stay a fantastic trip. That's if I can avoid asking for another wine on the way back from the toilet.

PS - failed with the wine...

Location:Heading toward the date line

The fever

I visited the Tokyo apple store recently and bought myself a card reader so I could get photos onto this gadget of mine. Some of you might have wondered about the lack of photos on the blog directly and it's down to me not being able to insert photos as I type the entries up in slack moments. That's all going to change though and to celebrate here's a few images Ive liked from Japan so far. It's easy to poke fun at literal translations so I'm avoiding that but some of the imagery and smiling animals makes me smile as it's so different and happy compared to things I see back home.

Have you ever heard of Pachinko? Nope, neither had I but it's a big thing here. A bit strange and neither Joan or I could get it but each of the halls had hundreds of machines and the most unbelievable noise inside.

Not the greatest photo what with scratched glass and reflections but you get the idea. Apparently 3 million people make this crossing per day.

They are big on emergency response here in Japan and even Hello Kitty gets in on the act.

Though I'm not quite sure what a big fish and small bird add to the topic of earthquake response.

Meanwhile the firemen get their own special manhole covers.

I saw this and wondered if we have to be courteous to aliens.

In the midst of it all the natives are oblivious on Nintendo DS games,

And mobile phones...

That's just a small selection from the last couple of days but it's all interesting stuff and I'll see what has yet to come. There will be more on the Flickr page soon.

Location:３丁目,Kawaguchi City,Japan

Bay city rollin

I've fallen into lazy mode, which has worked out pretty well if predictably a little strange in it's own way again. I met two Spanish guys in Khovd, Mongolia when I had my wee problems and then in Ulaanbaatar when they arrived at the same place I was staying at. They left before me as I was waiting for spare parts to arrive and made their way east.

The next time I saw them was in Vladivostok where I saw Joan wave at me as I rounded a corner while trying to find a hotel with another guy I met in Mongolia and bumped into again in Russia. Joan and Vicente made it to Vladivostok a few days earlier and just missed the ferry going to Japan. As it's a weekly ferry they then had a bit of a wait and despite the stories of no ferry availability I managed to get on the same trip which left a few days after I arrived.

Once again I had a straight forward exit from a country and left Russia heading toward South Korea for a few hours and then Sakaiminato in Japan. By the time we arrived in Japan we stuck together to get through all the formalities which all took by far the longest I have experienced on the trip so far and after only thirty hours from the ship docking we were free to leave. Because I had absolutely no plans for Japan I agreed to tag along with my new friends.

It turns out that way back in the past there was a gay called Hasegura Tsunenaga who was sent out on a mission toward Rome with a group of samurai warriors. They made it to Italy and back but some of the samurai seemed to like a small Spanish town so much that they just stayed there. As a result there are lots of people living there with Japanese surnames. My new travelling partners had been in touch with the home town (Sendai) of these samurai and were delivering a gift and a letter. Have a look at rutasamurai.com, theres an English section for those with rusty or no Spanish.

So off I went into the rising sun (sorry for the painful cliche) to find Sendai. It turned out to be an amazingly easy trip because I didn't have to worry about directions and we didn't take the expressway up because it would be dull, plus quite expensive.

On the way up I learned that most of Japan is not for a European motorcyclist. There's way too much traffic, the vast majority of the trip is limited to 50kph and the sprawl of suburbia just goes on and on and on. Once away from these areas however you end up in the mountains where the forest covered slopes are largely empty other than a corridor following the road and the road signs which are in Japanese and English show an amazing wealth of history. Some day it would be good to come back and retrace sections of the trip with a few weeks to see it all properly, I really don't think I've seen so much in the way of signposted history and dams you can crawl over in such a small area.

Like the expressways, we found accommodation expensive but managed to camp out a little. One of the nights we managed to get a woman in a hotel to let us camp out the back, only for the space available to turn out to be car park not belonging to the hotel. Then the police turned up before the tents were pitched only to shoo us on. This turned out fine because the policeman then agreed to show us an alternative spot which turned out to be a public park. Thankfully although it was a Saturday night it was unlike Scottish parks which can often be full of marauding children with bottles of Buckfast in hand.

And so it was that I arrived in Japan, slept in public parks, drove a long distance more slowly than I thought I could imagine and worked my way to the city of Sendai. It was in Sendai that the final purpose of the trip for my colleagues ended. On our night of arrival we tried to arrange a fix for Vicentes bike, like my F800GS it also developed an electrical problem in Mongolia and he also required some heavy truckin action towards Ulaanbaatar. In the end although we thought it was another rectifier issue the BMW mechanic at Sendai Platz ran the bike through diagnostics and it turns out that his alternator is at fault as opposed to the rectifier. There's none spare in Japan and we just continued the pattern used since we got off the ferry of letting his battery run low before swapping batteries and jump starting my bike from the good battery where the electrics would charge up the flat battery again. I paid my way in electricity I think.

Meeting up with the folks in Sendai was strange, there was a city interpreter who's speciality was Spanish though her high school English was great. She looked after us and we met all manner of people from the Sendai international centre the afternoon after we arrived. What also was strange was that evening meeting up with the local Hispanic society for dinner. It was an interesting mix of trying to speak or understand Japanese, Spanish and English and there were a few mini electronic translators doing the rounds.

Although I'm not a big fish fan, never mind raw fish I went for it with dinner as plate after plate of Japanese food was brought out along with a couple of the ladies constantly filling up my glass with warm sake. In the end I ate some kind of fish testes, raw salmon, cuttlefish, tuna, yellowfish and who knows what else as the plates just didn't stop. It was a good night though and one of the most strange parts was a bit of chat about karaoke when they said there were bars that offered songs in English to sing along to. This wasn't strange in itself but my mental blank about what Scottish bands might be available to sing to was ended when both of the women I was talking to started to get really excited about the Bay City Rollers. Apparently their songs are popular on the karaoke circuit here, possibly helped by the lead singer marrying a Japanese woman some years ago.

Location:３丁目,Kawaguchi City,Japan

It's been a while

Other than my stumpy little entry the other day I know I've not posted any photos or blog entries for a while. Thanks to the folk who have mailed to say to pull the finger out or offer assistance. As it is I've managed to get through the final part of Mongolia, into Russia, traverse the rest of Siberia (in the region of 4000km) and get onto the ferry. Im sitting in a bed not unlike the top bunk of an offshore cabin except I'm sharing with nine other people.

So whats been happening... Uncertainty has been a huge part of this section of the trip. Im still a little nervy about border crossings because of all the bad press each and every one seems to have gotten when I read other blogs or write ups but the three border posts Ive experienced since Ulaanbaatar have been fine. The last one in Russia despite all the fuss I've read about it involved me ignoring the customs departure lounge for an hour and a half while staying outside, having lunch, going for a coffee, and also entertaining the natives. All this while the majority of the ferry passengers sat in a stairway and small holding room sweating away. Once there was space I passed my tank bag through an x ray machine where I don't think the guy was looking at the screen, walked through a switched off metal detector then stood for ten minutes awaiting my time to get the passport stamped. I thought surely there must be more but walked through another door onto the dockside toward the ferry.

Working through my thoughts in the other direction I wasn't too worried about the re entry to Russia but uncertain about what was going to happen after. The days ride from the border to Ulan Ude was fine on good tarmac and I got there without stress. I was little nervous about the bike and something else going wrong with it but managed fine with other thoughts about my front tyre coming in. Melusine (backtojapan.fr) pointed out my front tyre wear before I left UB but there wasn't any time to do anything there despite all my hanging around otherwise so I figured something would work out later.

Once in Ulan Ude I found a nice spot to stay and decided that although it was Sunday I would try and get a tyre. The girl on the front desk was incredibly helpful and found some info for me but the first place I went was closed and everyone in the nearby shops said I would have no hope either there or in Ulan Ude at all. Undeterred I returned to the hotel to seek more help and was given another address and directions. So setting off I returned to the bike and... Click... Nothing.

I was certain that it was the same issue I had in Mongolia again and was gutted. Wasting the rest of the day in a strop (unlike me I know...) I eventually got in touch with Bad Man who took the brunt of my grump but gave me some good thoughts and stayed positive. Eventually I went downstairs with my new multimeter to check the voltages. It was only at this point as dusk was falling that I did this and noticed a small spark off the negative terminal as I pressed down. Repeating this a few times I then tried it with the ignition on, kept the pressure there and started the bike without issue. What a muppet. Still, I can't explain the relief. It didn't remove the fear of another failure totally but at least this feeling slipped as time went on. Perhaps it was very opportune that I did this in dusk so I could see a spark.

There was another uncertainty in the sense of the tyres when I knew my horrid knobblies weren't going to last too much longer on road. On the way out of Ulan Ude I made my way through a few locations for a couple of hours only to get no luck but when I came out of the last place there was a guy looking at my bike. No surprises with this but he seemed to be taking photos of the front wheel, I figured that this may be because of the rim ding I got in Turkmenistan but no, he was looking at the tyres.

Now Viktor has a CBR600 which is an interesting choice of bike for this part of the world and he was texting, photo messaging and calling round people without me asking while I was being distracted by a school teacher chatting away to me in English. In the end Viktor scoots off and tells me to stay put for twenty minutes. The teacher doesn't stay much longer and Viktor returns to me twenty minutes later and good to his word with a 21" Dunlop front tyre which has a bit of life left. He suggests driving to Chita and getting the tyre swapped there as I do have some life left on my current tyre. He also insists I take the tyre for free.

And so I set off onto another stretch of uncertainty, the Amur Highway. Again I've heard horror stories but the first days ride to Chita was fine on reasonable tar surfaces and the M55 gave way to the M56, M58 and finally M60. I knew the road was being built and upgraded as a legacy from Putins time as president but there's so many little stories on the net about this road to Vladivostok. Basically because of the strength of the Trans Siberian Railway there was no real need to spend billions on a new road because people here just got on with tracks and small sections of road built by individual towns. The stories I've heard are of days and days traversing gravel, gravel and more gravel in amongst horror driving.

As it turns out there's a good selection of surfaces over this long road but only about 150 - 200km total of gravelly construction site to navigate, the longest section being about 15 - 20km long so it wasn't bad. Another uncertainty which wasn't so troubling in the end.

So back to the tyres. The trip to Chita wasn't particularly nice with the front squared off unbelievably and there still being a big lack of grip from the remaining knobs. Once there however I managed to find a tyre place no problem and the chaps there charged me three pounds to swap the tyre over onto the second hand Dunlop. This element of uncertainty rapidly vanished as I could see how well it was wearing and it was nice to have some rubber with a round profile.

Well, this meant that the borders ended up fine, the bike behaved itself and the tyres were sorted very cheaply. In the meantime theres the selection of people I've met. Lunch one day being particularly funny as I spent an hour with Uri, Dima and Vitali by the roadside trying to refuse cups of Vodka while eating shish kebab. One of my best meals of the trip bought very cheaply with no end of banter and a free knife to be getting on with, I would need it they thought as I was spending a lot of time through the forests.

I also managed to bump into a guy called Iain later on one evening as we were both dodging storms. I met Iain in Ulaanbaatar and he left a few days before me, heading toward lake Baikal. Over this period I caught up with him as he moved from one storm and then was retreating back from another. In the darkness I could tell it was a dark colored Yamaha Tenere, turned round and gave chase. From there I've had company over the next week on the way to and within Vladivostock.

On the topic of people from Ulaanbaatar (and Khovd) in Mongolia. I bumped into, or more truthfully was spotted by two Spanish guys. One of whom has the same bike as me. Seems that the battery failure he was subjected to in mid Mongolia really was a similar issue that that I've had with my bike and he has ran out of power a few times in Russia. The result of his problems is a purchase of four different batteries and then a battery charger where the decision was to try and charge the battery every night somewhere. These guys also had the bad luck of arriving in Vladivostok the day the ferry left toward Japan so needing to wait another week, then they didn't go with the shipping agent option and had a very stressful day the day before the ferry left trying to sort out the notoriously difficult Vladivostok customs procedures. In the end they were put in touch with the same guy I was told I needed to use and Uri sorted them out. I think with Uri everything was sorted out within two hours for me without any stress.

As usual there's probably much more to say but everything going well as I sail toward Korea on my way to Sakanaimoto in Japan. There's going to be a few contrasts between Russia and Japan going to hit me soon I'm sure.

Location:South Korea

Just a quickie...

Well, its been a while and a long blast through Siberia. Trees, swamps, mosquitos and a struggle finding somewhere to pitch a tent or get a bed. I have managed to meet up by chance with a guy I met in Ulaanbaatar so Ive had some company all the way to Vladivostok.

Ive managed to get onto the net to do this blog and put up a couple of photos but theres going to be a bigger entry soon, largely I know this because Ive got 2 days on scum class upon the Eastern Dream as it winds its way over the Japan Sea to Japan so theres plenty of time. Ill have plenty of time to tap in an entry and post it probably somewhere in Japan. I may even manage to get a wander into South Korea for an hour or two.

Tick follows tock

Well then, tick does follow tock and Ive been in Ulaanbaatar for a week now. Not had, nor seen any Guinness but the advert springs to mind just now.

Ive managed to get myself into a shared ger to keep the pennies down and it looks like Ill be here in UB until Wednesday now. When I checked DHL a moment ago my spare parts apparently left Seoul in Korea yesterday so it looks like Ill be getting them fairly soon. The official estimate upon pickup was apparently Tuesday. So fingers crossed Ill get the bits then, manage to get things sorted up quite quickly then get myself on the move again come Wednesday morning. Then its up north to Russia before a bit of a drive east and the dilemma of going toward Vanino then Sakhalin and on to Japan or just tramping straight on over to Vladivostok for a direct ferry. Ive spent a little longer here than I had planned so I need to try and think about how best to proceed.

Otherwise Ive been chatting to allsorts in the guesthouse. On the way here I got shouted at and look upward only to see a few of the guys from Oasis and so I sat for a beer with an English motorcyclist, an Aussie 4x4 guy and a Spanish cyclist. We were joined briefly later on by 2 French bikers and a German 4x4 lady.

Ive given the bike a quick once over today and all looks reasonably well. Its had a brief water only wash to get the worst of the muck off and Ive oiled up the chain again. For the rest of my time this week Ive wandered round town, caught up with some communications and gotten myself to monasteries and into a national park. Theres some photos of these on Flickr.

Theres not a lot else to say really. The knee has gotten back to being almost perfect and Im just getting on with things otherwise. Ulaanbaatar is an ok spot but its not really grabbed my imagination. The rest of the country is pretty impressive but you need to either book onto a longer tour or get on the bike and explore it so Ive not seen as much as I could have.

Ill leave it here for now but Im hoping that the next time I post something it will be a little more interesting and involve me actually getting on the move again.

Wait a minute!

There's a theme building here in Mongolia. Perhaps some mystic farce, sorry force has decided I'm traveling too fast and decided to slow me down a little...

Following my "Another day in the life posting" I've had plenty of time to contemplate things. This has take the form of a long days wait to try and get assistance from the point of breaking down in-between the borders, through waiting for the bike to get fixed in Olgii in amongst the Naadam festivities. It took another step after I decided to go for it in traveling between Olgii and Khovd only for the trip to come to a lurching painful halt again as I managed to get myself trapped underneath the bike mid way.

Although I managed to get back onto the bike and complete the journey I have to admit I was in quite a bit of pain when I arrived at Khovd. So I figured I'd have a bit of a break and a bit of a rest. Unfortunately by day three of my stay in Khovd I was still in a lot of pain walking and the paranoia about just how the bike had been made to work again had set in.

So, after a mild faff arranging transport and getting pretty angry after going to see a healer / physio type guy when I returned to find that against instruction the guys had lifted my bike into the back of the truck I was eventually off eight hours later than promised. The strop by the way was caused by my insistence to see just how they had secured the bike and the proposed (and implemented) securing mechanism was laying the bike on it's side on top of three tyres. After coming back down from the roof of the truck and realizing my other option had drove off I came back a little calmer and asked how they now proposed to secure the bike because it wasn't going to rattle all the way to UB (Ulaan Baatar). The new method was to take the truck and get lugs welded to the structure and attach the bike to these which made me a lot calmer.

By the time I left I thought that I would have plenty of opportunity to pay through the nose to get replacement parts sent out so I could get the electrics standard again. So, sending suitable instructions and a delivery address back to the UK I set off on a 1500km trip that had about 50 hours of driving and took 77 hours total. Yup that's an average driven speed of 30kph bumping uncomfortably along the tracks making up the main road to UB. About a third of the way through after visiting another Naadam in Altai and drinking some vodka we picked up a friend of the driver so the space in the cab became that little more cramped again.

Not to worry, we ate marmot and an assortment of other local foods on the way, drank airag a few times and had some beers in a truck the first night before driving off. I slept one night in the truck cab for two hours, another in a student halls with six in the room and another night with three of us on a hard wooden bench with a coat over me. Without my wee issues Id have missed out on all that.

So at half past midnight on Sunday morning Id managed to wake up Sybille from the Oasis guesthouse (intergam-oasis.com) and score myself a ger with the only Mongolian speaking security guard. The bike was unloaded safely and I could get a good nights sleep. Following my efforts earlier in the week to order up the spare parts I was happy in the knowledge that I would be on my way before long.

It's at this point that Mongolia strikes again because Monday brought no news on the spares delivery and it was only later on Tuesday that I found out DHL still hadn't picked them up. It's now mid afternoon here on the Wednesday, more than a week after trying to get the ball rolling with the spares and sadly there's no news of them being picked up never mind leaving the country. So, on a quoted delivery time of six days it looks like I'm in for a wait and I have to admit that I've been ready to move on for a while now.

Taking some positives from this though I've learned more about myself, a load about vehicle electrics, a lot about my bike in particular and also seen two Naadam festivals.

At Oasis I'm making up for barely seeing other bikers this trip by meeting bikers and 4x4 overlanders from Estonia, Finland (motolla-mongoliaan.blogspot.com), Australia, Northern Ireland (awayfromhere.org), Austria, Switzerland, Belgium, Germany, France (thetimelessride.com) and I hear that there's some Polish folk coming later today.

Although at the minute I've no idea when I'll be on the move again I'll find something to keep myself occupied for the coming days. Im having more time to rest the knee which has moved from searing pain at times to an occasional niggle and I'm meeting lots of interesting people.

I'll be happy to be on the move again though.

Location:Mongolia

Another day in the life

It's easy for me to think as the days pass that not a lot happens but within each day there can really be a lot of note. After doing a day in the life blog from Turkey I've thought about the possibility of doing another but when, where from?

Then the opportunity arose in the form of Mongolia except that its been more than just a day. It all started when I got over the Russian side of the border crossing into Mongolian territory when I thought I would stop and take a photo. There were animals off the side of the road so I turned the ignition off from the bike, took my photo and got ready to go again. On trying to start the bike I don't think that I even got a click from the starter and the dash went blank. This happened a couple of times and I laughed before thinking that this could be a real problem.

Cursing, I stripped the non functioning Scottoiler from the bike as it was just annoying me and gave me a focus then sat down with the top section of the bike apart. First past me came a van full of Kazakh's who when I asked about jump leads just looked really blankly at me. I let them go and sat down for what seemed an age before a Mongolian 4x4 drove past refusing to stop with the driver just looking at me to the side of his eyes as if pretending not to see me.

Next past were some Czech folk in three small 4x4's having an adventure into Mongolia before returning home again. They came out with some tools and thought it was my alternator that was at fault. The engine seemed to run a while after jump starting if I kept the revs up and they suggested I return to the Russian side for help. Turning around I got 100m up the hill before the bike just died totally on me. Looking back they were off already.

During this time a few Chinese 4x4s came haring past honking their horns for us to get out of their way even though there was space for them. This continued with maybe ten in total passing while Adam from Israel on his GS adventure and Chris from England on his Honda stopped. They were helpful and chatted a while, they let me know that the border was just around the corner maybe a kilometer or so down the hill and also thought that it was just the battery I was having bother with.

Once they leave I get the bike trundling down the hill to the border post where I'm processed without much of a fuss. At the far side the guy who had taken 30 roubles for not disinfecting my bike brought along a guy who I thought was called Viktor (I found out later his name was totally different) took me to his house where we got on an old Russian bike and returned to mine. He told me that to get a new battery if he gave me his then he would have to pay 100usd, I thought that this was nonsense and then we went through the theater of him going away. He wasn't even into any form of barter and by the time I grudgingly agreed after having no other option his battery was too gutless to do anything on my modern bike.

So, pushing the bike up the hill I get talking to an Austrian in a Landcruiser who is there with a girl driving and a guy in the back all squeezed in beside most of a KTM Adventure in bits. Turns out his bike broke down, these folk were with him and they just decide to strip it and return home. Then I got talking to a couple on Honda Transalps as they got past before I got huckled for insurance for the bike, not sure if its really legit because it wasn't part of the border post but after my experiences in Kazakhstan I decided not to argue.

I have my first food for the day mid afternoon within Viktors house with a bottle of water, which I get charged for and then looked blankly at when I wait for the change. As I finish, Viktor comes back to me and takes me into the countryside hunting some transport.

The hunt for transport involves me being stuck on the back of an old Russian bike with no front brakes bouncing along dirt tracks and feeling every bit of metal rattle underneath me. It doesn't take long to get used to but its not pleasant. After stopping at a ger (local nomadic home) we get on the move again and he seems to be scouring the countryside for some form of a jeep. After maybe half an hour bouncing around the countryside and Viktor hopelessly shouting at a 4x4 on the other side of the valley we get to in the region of Tsagannur where we stop at another ger encampment.

Im introduced to one guy (Arstan) who says he can take me to Olgii and after some time Im taken back to the border where my stuff and the bike is jammed into a too small trailer and we are off again. But not before Viktor has demanded money from me for sorting out the contact. A couple guys meanwhile try and have a chat to me, they had recently arrived on some Suzukis and were waiting til the next day to cross the border. I don't get much chance as I'm motioned toward the jeep again.

My new friend Arstan says I will stay with him and we go back the ger encampment where I met him. It takes a few hours for anything to happen but I'm looked after by the family who offer my plenty of weak milky tea with butter in it and some meat soup which is quite tasty. At about 8:00pm he comes into the ger and says "come, I fix your bike!" and we get into the 4x4 with his wife, son and a guy called Toulou.

We drive about ten minutes then stop again where we pick up a container of airag (fermented mares milk, quite tasty in a strangely salty, vinegary, milky way) and a couple of children before we set off into the sunset.

Bouncing away we stop once for resecuring the bike which seems to have shifted during all the bumping about. It's at this time, just as we enter pitch darkness that a thunderstorm rolls in overhead. I've got no real idea what's happening or where we are really off to but just have to give in to what's going on, none of it feels bad or untoward so I just try and settle in and avoid the constant stream of rainwater drips coming in from the windscreen above my legs.

Finally, at just before midnight Im in Olgii. We stop at what turns out to be Arstans brothers house where I'm given a few cups of tea and a few cups of airag too. Some point after midnight Arstans brothers wife appears with some bedclothes and points me toward the sofa where I'm to sleep.

Although I've no idea what's happening I'm at least being looked after and really have very few options being pretty much exactly half way round the world from home with no transport. Im exhausted and settle down to sleep which seems to take only seconds despite the noise from the adjacent room and I await what's to come over the next few days with the local festival and the bike getting fixed.

Location:Ulaanbaatar, Mongolia

Ups and downs

I guess that I can be pretty stubborn at times and can think of a few moments at work where I must have been a royal pain. That stubbornness combined with occasional bursts of blind faith must have led me into all sort of situations and my career path which led from choice of degree at age 17 through til recently quitting hasn't exactly been a straight forward one although up til now it's managed to head me in a generally positive direction.

Now it's taken me til half way round my trip to start questioning the sanity of some decisions but it's led me to decide on arranging to have the bike and myself transported 1400km to Ulaan Bataar across the Gobi steppe where I hope to be able to properly sort some issues on the bike and get on the road again after a rest.

So unfortunately I feel no little bit sad about this decision but there was a moment months ago in Turkey which came shooting into my head a few days ago, this when the guys from Holland who were organizing a big KTM do admired my panniers but then qualified this by saying they don't like using metal ones because if you come off you can break your leg. This moment of clarity came to me after driving through water, coming out of the other side into mud, losing the front end and the dawning realization that my leg was indeed underneath the pannier as the bike was dropping onto me.

A few seconds later as I was laying in the mud with the bike on top of me and my heart pumping I managed to do a wee self diagnostic check. The positive news coming back from all my limbs that I could 1 - feel them and 2 - the feelings weren't too painful. So I lay there, turned off the ignition because the engine was still running and spent the next couple of minutes trying to wriggle from under the bike. I managed this, stripped the bag off the top of the bike and got it upright without much grief. It started again and walking beside it I managed to move it onto drier ground. It seems that I've twisted my knee and although I drove another three hours afterwards and have been getting about in Khovd I admit that sometimes I'm in pain.

Since then I've been feeling a bit fragile. The knowledge of the bikes wiring being rough and my suspicion that without replacement electrics I'm going to have a detrimental effect on the remainder of the electrical system with the potential for breakdown on the steppe. There's also my fear that the ongoing pain in my knee under load could lead to another painful fall to my left which could result in bad knee damage and the end of the trip. So at the half way point I've sadly decided to put my hand in my pocket and ensure that both the bike and I are in a fit state to complete the trip by taking transport.

This physical and mechanical fragility have led me to listen to the few people Ive spoken to recently who seem surprised and amazed that I'm here, this far from home, on my own. I've feel a little sad at the decision but feel it's the right one to safeguard the rest of my trip, I've also felt for moments a bit vulnerable but that's not lasted more than a few minutes as things really aren't that bad.

So this I guess has led to a little bit of a down moment, but do I regret starting the trip? Do I regret the choices that have led me here? Do I wish I was back home in the nine till five worrying about broken down helicopters and fire detectors? Not a hope. It has made me think about low points in the trip though and there's been amazingly few. I was a little low at the end of Uzbekistan and parts of Kazakhstan when I realized how far from home I was combined with being on my own again after being in company for the best part of a week. I was also low with the repeated police stops in Uzbekistan and fear about insurance in Kazakhstan. Then there were a few moments on the way into Mongolia when the bike broke down but otherwise there's been nothing thats bothered me for more than an hour or two.

If I can compare this to the ups though, from leaving home, getting on then off the ferry from Newcastle, meeting family in Germany, so so many moments of seeing fantastic scenery or eating interesting food, meeting up with Lisa in Uzbekistan for a few days, waking and realizing I've just camped out in the middle of nowhere with fantastic views, starting to appreciate Turkey, Uzbekistan, Kazakhstan, Mongolia among the seventeen countries I've been through so far.

There's no comparison with the ups and downs. The downs are transient, fleeting and pass with the knowledge that even with the crazy (according to others) decision to do this trip on my own I've managed to get more than half way round the world with only a few issues and survived with my health and the bike largely in tact. The ups are so many and by the time I find wifi in Ulaan Baatar to post this I will indeed be in Ulaan Baatar, another city most people only ever hear of or maybe see photos from. I'll have a days drive to Siberia where Ill be amongst some fantastic countryside again, then there's a couple of ferry trips before Japan which I'm really excited about before it's off over to Canada where again there's amazing scenery, the prospect of catching up with friends while there's the ease and familiarity of language.

Finally there's the USA where time dependent I'll be crossing the Rockies twice, riding the pacific coast highway and taking a right turn in California onto Route 66 and that's before riding into New York.

It wont all be straight forward, there will be more challenges, I'll get bored and hacked off from time to time but I've seen and experienced so much and have a way forward from this point where I still have half a trip, and half a world to experience.

The ups have it...

Location:Barnaul,Russian Federation