Resting up...

Voyage of discovery 

Since we left Kaliningrad and ventured out amongst the less tempered driving of (more) central Europe, I've made a surprising discovery. My bike's a beast.

This is a Honda Africa Twin DCT. It's an automatic - though we'd never call it that; it's not sexy enough for a motorcycle. But it is. And ridden in standard drive mode it's super relaxing. Sure, it takes its time to accelerate and only changes down when it really has to and never stays in the lower gear for long. But it's economical for its size, weight and power - and, as I said, is really laid back.

I've owned the bike for six months or so and I've always ridden in this mode. Until Estonia. I realised I couldn't wait for it to lazily change down when I wanted to overtake with a would-be World Rally Car racer behind me also wanting to go and so I began to experiment riding in Sports (#1) mode.

Bloody hell! It changes down in a trice, hangs on to the lower gear for ages, really gets a shift on just when you need it to (especially when you're overtaking and there's a Raptor Car* on it's way with its beady eye on you) and - here's the best bit - screams like a banshee!

Sheep's clothing...

One press of a button and this placid, easy-going camel of a thing turns into a testy, snarly overtaking machine. It's a heartening discovery.

Too hot

I know you know it's too hot and I know you know why and I know you know its not trivial. Probably you know about the Extinction Rebellion world protests that are starting this weekend. Well, just in case you don't and you want to get involved.

Hills
It wasn't until we encountered the Ore Mountains on the border between Bavaria and the Czech Republic that we realised how flat our journey had been thus far. Apart from the coastal range just south of Hammerfest we'd hardly seen any hills. And hills are nice. Views, interesting overtaking opportunities and, well, variety.

And currently...
I'm on my way to the Nürnberg Backgammon Open and Angelika is doing whatever she does when alone in Munich and freed from having to consult her Pilot on every decision. Lucky her. (It will probably involve cake.)


*Raptor Car; car, probably black, probably executive, probably in Germany, probably driven by male middle-manager who deeply believes that he can drive through or over you if you don't get out of his fucking way and isn't unhappy to convey this to you by driving within inches of you at excessive speeds.