WINE ROUTES

 England, especially in the south, has a lot of vineyards. Vineyards are pretty and usually out in the countryside, down reasonably good and scenic roads, and a lot of them have some species of cafe or shop on site, as clearly wine alone isn’t going to pay all the bills. Part of this could be because there is a very old and inexplicable extra tax on wines produced and bottled in the UK, which makes them more expensive than those from regions abroad. This seems, from a Buy Local perspective, singularly self-defeating.

This summer, I will be visiting a selection of these vineyards - not that I can drink the wine when riding. So I shall have to judge them on other essential criteria - parking, access, coffee.

HOG IN MUCK

 During my Schengen sojourn, the bike was happy as a hog in muck - and, of course, got muddy to the headlight. I did what limited cleaning I could on the run (including debugging the headlight and indicators on a daily basis) but there are limits to what can be accomplished on the road. 

Before

A thorough cleaning was high on the list when I got back, if only to get the rest of the bug guts out of the working parts. Bikes tend to have rather exposed engines, after all. 

It took some time, and quite a lot of scrubbing and polish - but I have debugged the bike and also managed to get most of the rust off the kickstand. 

Of course, it’s now spring. So as soon as you ride 5 miles, you once again have to clean the bug guts off the headlight, the forks and the back of the mirrors. The cleaning of a bike is never finished. 

This is annoying, but a relatively small price to pay for riding in no more layers than jeans and a jacket. 

After

AT THE VINEYARD

 

AUSTRIA

Germany likes to build bridges. It’s very proud of its bridges, and likes to tell you the name, length and height of the bridge before you cross it. Austria, on the other hand, has more mountains per square kilometre than its larger neighbour, and prefers to build tunnels. Of which it’s very proud, and likes to tell you the name and length of the tunnel before you enter it. 

I crossed into Austria on Day Three, after a slightly troublesome start with a strap on my bag breaking off completely, which caused a rethink about attaching my luggage and subsequent resumption of paranoia about the subject. 

I had sorted my digital vignette in good time, at least. The advantage of a digital vignette is that it no longer matters that I have no screen or similar location in which to stick one. 

However, I made it to southern Styria in one piece, all straps still strapped and all luggage still tightly attached. Weingut Tauss, where I was staying for a few days, was absolutely lovely, and welcomed me with a much appreciated glass of wine in the garden. 

After a couple of days there, I headed up to Salzburg, where a prevalence of roadworks and detours meant I arrived at my hotel later than planned and rather disorientated. Salzburg is a beautiful stop to make and a bike friendly place - roadworks notwithstanding. 

AUTOBAHNS AND OTHER ROADS

On Day Two, I crossed over into Germany. I like the autobahn system, with its wide, smooth lanes and regular services and rest areas, and general rapidity. I wasn’t going all that fast, of course because a) I don’t have a screen and b) I was wearing an open-face helmet, which the wind (see point a) kept trying to remove. 

I tightened the strap at every other petrol stop, which helped a lot, but I would still have been better off with more between my eyeballs and the wind. I also cleaned my visor every stop - the European insect population is extremely healthy, if somewhat suicidal. 

I like riding through Germany. For a start, most Schengen countries are more bike-friendly than the UK (not much of an achievement, but still). Secondly, Germany has very nice A and B roads. Not as fast as the Autobahns, but well maintained and reasonably quick and well sign-posted (assuming you know the names and relative positions of the villages). They’re not great for signposting petrol stations, but you can’t have everything and that’s what smartphone mapping apps are for. 

FLANDERS FIELDS

 I can’t ride through northern France or Belgium without thinking of Roger McGough’s war poem about “In Flanders fields in northern France, they’re all doing a brand new dance.”

Of course, on arrival in France, I couldn’t ride at all. I stopped for petrol, and clearly picked the wrong pump at the wrong time, because the bike ceased to speak to the key fob and refused to start. When I tried to roll it out of the way, it yelled at me loudly. 

Once I had tried repeatedly to start it, called the dealer for the override code and managed to move it away from whatever was blocking the signal, it did start up quite nicely. The only conclusion is that it is not the keyfob battery, but an active cell tower. 

Problem One, solved. 

Problem Two was a Porsche trying to ride pillion and flashing his lights at me. I pulled over, largely to get out of his way, and realised he’d been trying to tell me my bag was slipping badly. The vibrations on the train had jiggled things a bit loose. So, there at the side of the A16, I reorganised and re-strapped everything and ceased to think nasty thoughts about entitled sports car drivers. This was the point at which I realised I hadn’t packed any hi-vis, or a few other heavily recommended bits for travel in Europe. This incident induced some paranoia about my luggage for the rest of the day. 

LE SHUTTLE

 This is now, post-Brexit, even more an exercise in French love of bureaucracy meeting British tendencies to get tangled in red tape. The doubling up of Border Controls at both ends being a case in point - there are many gates at the French line for EU/EEA/CH passports and only one for All Other Passports - which now includes the UK. The UK line reverses this, which doesn’t help because you can’t move between queues in between the two sets of gates. 

It’s all very stop-start - not good for a bike engine or battery. Just FYI. 

Also, the terminals leave a LOT to be desired. They could afford to be more airport-esque, in terms of facilities. 

However, once checked in, checked through all passports gates with accompanying removal and replacement of buff, glasses, helmet etc (it’s an open face helmet, people, which shows my whole face, so seriously, what, other than a jobs-worth power trip, is the point in holding up the whole queue by making me take it off and put it back on again?)

They always put all the bikes together on the train (and try to tell you how far over your bike leans. Somehow I think bikers know their bikes better than random rail workers), so you do at least get to chat and swap route tips. And returning from Calais to Folkestone has the added kick of arriving before you leave. 

BREXIT

 I recently went for a road trip around several Schengen countries. The last time I did this was on a previous bike and as an EU citizen. So you might reasonably say it’s been a while. 

Initially, my bike had a solo seat, which had to be changed before I could anywhere that involved luggage. One needs to attach it to the bike somehow, after all. 

Also, I don’t have a screen on my current bike. And then Covid happened, and nobody was going anywhere for some years. 

This trip began with the question of where in Europe to go, then how to get there and how many days would that reasonably require. There is a lot of logistical and administrative bumpf to consider when doing these things, some of which I’d completely forgotten about and some of which is New Since Brexit. 

Then the question of pre-booking accommodation or simply taking my chances in the evenings - I’ve heard both schools of thought and usually come down on the chancing it side. This time, I pre-booked, in order not to need a satnav or have to install comms in my helmet. 

When the day dawned, I strapped my bag onto the bike and headed for the Eurotunnel.