Walking home from the office a few days ago I came across a reminder of the great unrest of just weeks ago, in this case when buses had been used as battering rams against buses of those with opposing political views, torched, or dumped in the adjacent Beira Lake.
Steve
Saturday, 3rd September 2022
Saturday afternoon brought a canopy of grey clouds which meant that the last thing I expected to be doing was photographing a sunset. I was surprised therefore when Rennie called me to come quickly a good few minutes after sunset itself, and with greyness quickly becoming the dark of night.
Grabbing my trusty travel camera, I went swiftly to the balcony and took the image above; solid monsoon cloud everywhere I looked out of shot to the left, but in front was backlit heavy rain and a glowing break in the cloud from that sun now out of sight over the horizon.
Steve
Saturday, 27th August 2022
Misa and I both had haircuts a month ago in the UK, booked at short notice with a hairdresser unknown to us and who was clearly most at home with running the No 2 shears up the side and then cutting a floppy style on top with a clear distinction between the two parts. Some teenage boys might think it looks cool, but not Misa or I and I had to ask for the two parts to be blended in – which they were, kinda.
A month down the line we both looked a total mess, so yesterday’s task was to go to our favourite hairdresser, Asanka at Leena Hari Salon and have him perform rescue jobs – which he did superbly along with an assistant washing our hair and giving a lovely head massage as usual. Emi came too for a tidy up and we took a tuk tuk ride home feeling rather smarter than earlier, and very relaxed.
We arrived home to enjoy time with our friend Pavel who’d called round and who still comfortably edges Misa on the height stakes!
Steve
With such a short connection in Doha we’d wondered if our baggage would make the second flight but no amount of positive thinking could change that it didn’t. Never mind. A ground handling agent came up to me at the carousel with a list of all the delayed luggage, thus confirming our six pieces were included and we were to go to the luggage desk to leave our details.
I was expecting a bureaucratic muddle but it turned out to be anything but. I was quickly seen, and a polite and clearly spoken lady took me through what would happen and made sure I truly understood how to track the bags and how to reach the office if I needed to. It was a bit paper-driven for immediate re-keying in to the tracking system but never mind once more; I was impressed and we all left the airport in relaxed frame of mind.
Every cloud has a silver lining, in our case this being that because we couldn’t unpack, we could try and use the time to have walk-in medicals for our visa renewals rather than booking ahead and waiting for them. Thanks to a helpful friend we got lucky and this rather important item was ticked off the list.
Returning to the baggage, five items arrived on the 6:30pm flight the same day and the sixth – Deefer in their big box – at 02:30am the day after. Each time I had used the tracking website had been flawless, and the two occasions I called the office were answered within two rings and I could hear footsteps as the receiver of my call walked to physically check reality compared to what the system said.
Delivery to our apartment was at about 5:30pm and you can guess where the unpacking priorities lay; foodstuffs that had by then been out of refrigeration and in an often hot environment for 52 hours (time will tell whether any of it is still edible), closely followed by that large cardboard box!
The happiness was lovely and the feeling of being home, complete.
Steve
Sunday, 21st August was with us all too soon and after 64 days in Europe it was time to head home to Colombo. We were ready to go in good time having packed the day before, helped by Mum and Dad taking the grandchildren out for lunch and much of the afternoon so we could crack on.
Six items of hold luggage had been packed, one including Deefer after I managed to squeeze him in to a new refuse sack which then slide nicely in to a large box. We’re not sure what this passenger thought of their class of travel but it was the only way that Misa was going to surprise his girlfriend, Thilini with it!
I’d initially thought there was scant chance of taking it but we were going to be inside our 140Kg baggage allowance so I had a go. By good fortune I managed to juggle the relative weights to pair Deefer’s box at 16Kg with a suitcase at just under 30Kg, not only using most of my personal allowance of 30+20Kg but exactly on the 300cm height, width and breadth dimensions total allowed per person.
On-the-day packing complete with items like cheese, ham and sausages from the fridge, our driver was with us bang on time. Farewells were said, tight hugs were held, and we were on our way with the bittersweet feeling of happiness and excitement to be homewards bound to where we have put down roots and collectively and individually forged our own lives, but sad to be leaving seeing what was written behind eyes and knowing that Mum and Dad need our help and wish to share time with us as us with them, more than ever.
We had already explained to Mum and Dad that this will be our fourth and final year in Sri Lanka and that if circumstances permit, the children will take their IGCSE exams in May without change of school and we will relocate back to the UK in early June. This will give good time to settle in to our UK house before A level studies commence in September but we are under no illusion that leaving Sri Lanka will itself be emotional; it is truly a privilege to call this country home, with so much opportunity and friends like family for us all, and professional interest in harmony with skilled and committed individuals for Rennie and myself. Much can happen between now and then, so time will tell which way the road goes.
After enjoying lounge facilities it was time to board – but we then sat and waited before pushback a good 40 minutes late. Not so good when Doha transit was only 55 minutes even if on time and sure enough we ended up with a run for our connecting flight, thankfully from the same airport wing and with the flight held back given a fair number of connecting passengers.
Of course our baggage didn’t make the connection, but more of this in the next post. For us, it was simply good to be home – once more feeling both that we had been away forever, yet not at all.
Steve
Late on 11th August we travelled to Denmead to stay with my friend of 34 years, Andy and his children. Arriving at midnight and heading South for most of the way we’d had the incredible supermoon for company out of the windscreen. Hanging in a cloudless sky it was mesmerising, and with the kids asleep behind us and gently chatter up front it made for a very relaxing journey.
Friday 12th saw a day in the office from Andy’s dining table for me, whilst he and Rennie took the four children to Thorpe Park for a day’s fun in the continued scorching heat. I like the look of the one you can watch here that gives a sportsbike rate of acceleration before an outside turn and negative ‘G’, before plummeting down again!
In the queue for another ride, Rennie noticed a couple of guys with toys they had won in the amusements area; a huge banana and an enormous dog. Quick as a flash she decided that she’d pay up to £30 for the dog, so asked the guy holding it if he would consider selling it. “Yes”, was the reply – so she offered a tenner that was accepted and Misa was the proud new owner!
Needing a name, Andy suggested “Deefer”, as in “D for Dog” which for the time being at least has stuck. There is however more to the story that will follow in another post.
On return from Thorpe Park was a gathering with equally close friends from the same era, Paul and Sarah, and Simon. Paul brought with him a couple of flight simulators with proper control columns and virtual reality goggles that were very popular after the barbeque. Huge fun. I enjoyed “flying” a fast jet (a BAe Hawk) through twisting Welsh valleys and skimming lower and lower to enjoy the ground rush (the goggles are very immersive) until it all ended badly in some tree tops!
Deefer had to join the family photo of course, and after it was taken the evening was sadly over but hopefully with another one to look forwards to next year.
On return to Mum and Dad’s home we found Dad having a snooze after lunch, so with a hat atop his head at a jaunty angle, Misa placed Deefer for Dad to find on waking up!
Steve
I was very proud of Misa, reliably going to work each morning in the village shop, and even more so when I walked down one morning hoping to be served by him when buying Motorcycle News.
Misa was out the back when I arrived, but on announcing who I was the shopkeeper expressed how highly he was regarded and how pleased they were to have this kind and polite young man helping stock the shelves and serve customers.
My pride increased even further when Misa came to serve me – proudly handing over the Motorcycle News that he’d already put by to buy and bring home. A lovely moment, as was then handing over the money for it and a packet of his grandfather’s favourite biscuits and having him ring them up on the till.
On completing his time there Misa was given a completely unexpected and generous sum of money and a lovely handwritten card of gratitude that we think he will keep forever.
Steve
A second night at the Hotel L’Univers in Arras was followed by a early breakfast to permit one more visit before Eurotunnel beckoned; La Coupole.
My memory jogged by a Google search for “Second World War history near me” a couple of nights before, I remembered that La Coupole was somewhere I had long wanted to visit and was bang on our route. Perfect.
Quite literally “The Cupola”, it was built by slave labour under German occupation in the latter part of the war as a V bomb factory and launch site. The location was chosen not only because of being an open cast mine with adjacent hill suitable for constructing a factory in a rabbit’s warren of tunnels, but there was a railway line on which to supply parts and it was inside the relatively short range of V1 and V2 rockets for hitting London. It was just days from being operational when after multiple unsucessful attempts by the Allies to destroy it (the thick reinforced concrete Cupola itself withstanding direct hits from enormous ordnance), the liberation of Northern France thankfully put paid to the German plans. The Wikipedia page on the facility is well worth reading.
A final ride on flowing roads with light traffic followed, before in seemingly no time we were at Eurotunnel in truly scorching heat, queuing to enter. Thank heavens I had put sun cream on my neck, this being the only exposed skin when riding.
After 40 minutes or so we were checked in and with the offer of an earlier train accepted – which meant riding straight to the boarding lanes rather than a pause in the holding area. The heat coming off the tarmac was phenomenal itself, never mind the sun itself beating down, so with the engine water temperature needle above where it normally is although still well below the red zone I decided to switch the engine off in the final queue to board.
Several minutes later it was time to move. No matter how much the starter motor cranked, for the first time ever the engine refused to start. Heat soak meant the fuel had evaporated from the four carburettors and I had made the schoolboy error of leaving the ignition live and the headlamp and tailamp on whist we’d waited, draining the small battery of precious juice.
Another Grand Tour Moment – and I could even hear James May saying “Oh cock!” in his inimitable style.
With the cranking speed now tailing off rapidly I decided to stop trying and still sitting astride the saddle, paddle the bike with my feet for the 100 metres to the boarding ramp. Having already been cooking hot before starting, you can imagine how I felt at the end of it – never mind the sight we must have looked for people in the the long queue of cars behind! I was impressed with the speed we picked up though – about 4MPH / 6KPH!
At the top of the ramp I stopped to allow the vehicles in front to leave, and then with the bike in first gear, the ignition on but the lights all off, freewheeled down until I had a good speed and then fed the clutch in. Phew. The engine started within half a second – and the queue in front meant I could leave it running to put some juice back in the battery.
Would it start in Dover? Yes. On the button!
A largely motorway ride home followed before the final fun through the countryside and journey’s end at 16:25hrs on July 23rd. 2,721 miles / 4,379 km safely under the wheels, we were back as planned in time for Mum’s birthday the next day. Before then, cleaning the trusty bike with a willing helper and then enjoying a delicious welcome home dinner with Mum and Dad.
What an amazing, amazing trip within our European trip from Sri Lanka. Misa and I are still high from it over a month later and planning the next one.
Steve
The Reims-Gueux circuit in the Champagne region of France was a grand prix motor racing venue on public roads from its opening in 1926 until closure in 1972. Famous for its long straights, remnants of the infrastructure still stand today like ghosts of the past and walking in the buildings brings an eerie feeling of noise, colour, spectacle and danger, imagining what it was like and who had trodden where we now were.
I’d been once before with Rennie in the summer of 2018 where arriving just before sunset had amplified the eerie feeling, but this time enjoyed arriving by motorcycle with my son and explaining a little of the history.
Another priceless memory.
Steve
In the middle of nowhere deep in rural Northern France, the first I knew that I had missed a turning was when I caught the tail end of a spoken sat nav instruction after Misa and I had finished talking; the intercom is configured so that streamed audio takes second place behind rider and pillion conversation.
“Never mind”, I said to Misa, confident that we would swiftly be re-routed – and we were. What we didn’t yet realise however is that with few roads to choose from, Google Maps had chosen a road that quickly became a cobbled lane, and then a stony track, followed by a grass track across a field. At this point it was amusing, but on reaching a turn in the track and finding what amounted to a forestry track – deeply rutted from huge tractors and covered in slippery sawdust, bark and hay as well as grass – I came close to a sense of humour failure!
As you will also find in the video though, I have a lovely son who continued to see the funny side, hopped off to help stability as previously hot and sticky sportsbike tyres had now attracted a lot of the slippery sawdust, and ran alongside filming his version of what he likened to Amazon Prime’s Grand Tour with Clarkson, Hammond and May!
Looking back, it was a highlight of the holiday – so see what you think!
Steve
