Scotland to Lake Como via Black Forest and Switzerland - Two Idiots Abroad

gog

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Myself and my friend Jon (‘python’ on UKGSer) had been talking about a trip to Europe on the bikes for some time. I had originally planned to go solo but only really because I didn’t know anyone else that was into bikes and could get the green light from work and family.

The summer before, we had taken a short camping trip to Glen Coe staying at the Red Squirrel site, and got very drunk at the Clachaig Inn. I had wondered how Jon would manage to get a tent and sleeping bag on to the back of a CBR600F, but I needn’t have worried. Where there’s a will, there’s a way:

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I have this photo saved and it never fails to make me chuckle. Cheers Jon ;)

I still don’t know what else was in that massive bundle of stuff, but I am certain that most of it was not necessary for one night camping in relative civilisation. This was a theme that would follow us both through Europe.

On that short trip we had put together a rough outline for the euro trip which was basically just to get the ferry from Newcastle to Amsterdam and then drive down to the Alps via the Black Forest. It was clear that Jon’s wee CBR wasn’t the right tool for the job and I convinced him he needed a GS - not that he needed much convincing. We went home (rather hungover) and ran the idea past our better halves. Surprisingly there was little resistance from either so before they could change their minds, the ferry passage was booked for June 2017.

Jon sold the CBR and got a nice R1200GS (via a short-lived KLE500) and we both worked through filling a ‘kit list’ (which I won’t bore you with here) and before we knew it, the departure date had arrived.

DAY 1 (6th June) - Scotland to Newcastle

Jon arrived at my house in Fife the evening before, after the long trip down from Skye. Typically it was absolutely pissing down, and we packed up the bikes whilst everything got soaked. During a quick stop for a McDonalds breakfast and to fuel up the bikes, I noticed that the aux lights I had installed 2 days before would not turn off, even with the ignition off, and realised that the cheap Chinese switch I had used was full of water and stuck on. It was too wet to mess about with it so it would have to wait until we were somewhere dry.

We headed south as the heavens unleashed their relentless fury upon us.

I had been lead to believe that even the most basic food in Switzerland would cost more than I had budgeted for the whole trip, so we stopped at a Chinese supermarket and I bought 20 packs of various noodles. They took up a huge amount of space in my dry bag, I don’t know what I was thinking, but I carried them through 7 countries and came home with 18 packs. This unnecessary stop for noodles almost cost us our trip.

By this point it had become clear that neither of our ‘waterproof’ gloves were standing up to the deluge. We were in Edinburgh anyway, so dropped in to the Motorrad in Dalkeith to see if they had any decent gloves. Both ended up with a pair of new ‘GS Dry’ and I also bought a pair of GS summer gloves. After a bit of a haggle, we were reluctantly given a 15% discount - result. Well it would have been had the ‘GS Dry’ gloves stayed dry for longer than 20 minutes, which they didn’t.

The rest of the trip down to Newcastle was uneventful, though slowed much by the biblical weather. Hitting a foot deep puddle at 60mph in almost zero visibility was interesting, as was being thrashed by a wall of water as a lorry hit it coming the other way. It looked like we were going to miss the ferry so caution went out the window and we hammered it without stopping again. We made it just as the last bikes were boarding, 5 minutes later and we would have been turned away.

There were a fair few bikes on the ferry and we set about stripping off our sodden gear and lashing the bikes down. Just ahead of us there were a couple of dwarves (or ‘little people’ as the now preferred nomenclature may be) on a specially modified bike and I couldn’t help but admire their ‘fuck it’ spirit to just get on with life. Their luggage was well stickered up and they had obviously spent much time travelling instead of sitting about, bitter for the hand dealt them.

Having now (hopefully) covered my arse from the ire of the PC brigade, here are some photos:

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Bikes safely stowed, I eventually managed to get my aux lights to go off by fiddling with the switch. I worried that they would come back on and drain my battery but I didn’t have tools handy to access the PDM60 to disconnect them so for now, I would trust it to luck.

We found our cabin and hung up the worst of our wet gear and got changed.

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We both agreed that a drink was badly needed. Jon produced a litre of Morgans and a pitiful amount of coke. It was far too strong but within an hour the litre was gone and we had both become quite drunk. Vague memories of an expensive (and shit) steak dinner are floating about my head but very little else before waking up, rough as a bears arse, about to dock in Holland. Jon had become violently seasick the night before and been confined to the cabin’s toilet floor. The less said about the outward crossing the better, I think.

TBC
 
Looks good! Looking forward to the rest! Going on from your noodle story not quite as bad but I took 5 tins of Heinz beans and sausages around Germany for a 2 week trip a few years ago haha. Some things seem like great ideas

Daniel
 
DAY 2 (7th June) - Amsterdam to Black Forest

Waking up with a mouth like the bottom of a budgie’s cage is not much fun at the best of times. Having to get in to (still) soaking wet gear, organise stuff and then depart a crowded ferry on an empty stomach makes things a bit worse. At least we will be on the road soon, always a quick route to a clear mind. Unfortunately a 3 hour delay threw a spanner in those works.

An hour late to dock, another hour waiting in the auto deck and a further hour queuing to get through passport control moving a foot at a time. If it had still been raining like yesterday I suspect it would have broken me. But despite threatening clouds it was dry, and just after mid-day we were through and clear and the trip could begin. Plan was to fuel up then find somewhere for breakfast, then put some miles under our belts via the shortest route possible, aiming for the Pension Williams in the Black Forest where we were booked in for the night. The sat-nav reckoned we would be there around 8pm, a comfortable and stress free trip. The bikes were running well and we quickly adjusted to driving on the right. We had not been able to sort our helmet comms out and had agreed to do it that night at the hotel, Jon was to follow me. What could possibly go wrong with such a simple plan?

It took 15 minutes for us to get separated. After fuelling the bikes at the ferry port station, we hit the motorway. After the second set of lights I checked my mirrors and couldn’t see Jon. Maybe he got stopped at the lights, I think, and slow down a little to see if he catches up. The motorway is fast and crammed with lorries, and I soon realise he isn’t behind me. Bollocks. The next exit was closed, so I came off the next one and stopped in Badhoevedorp. Thankfully when I called Jon he picked up. He had been forced off an exit on to a different motorway by a lorry, and had similar trouble to me getting off at the next available exit. We decided the best way to find each other was for him to go to somewhere that I could set the sat-nav to take me. Unfortunately this whole area was riddled with roadworks, but finally I get a text to meet him at a logistics park at Schiphol airport.

In to the sat-nav it goes and I set off. First roundabout I came to, the exit I needed was closed for work, and the one after that. I turned it off, rode for ten minutes on small roads in the general direction, and then asked the sat-nav again. This time she came through, though it was the first of many, many times the little witch would simply lie to us.

In the end we found each other again, and I discovered that even though the sat-nav was a devious, lying wee hoor, it could be programmed to find McDonalds. We ate and laughed (a bit) at our misfortune, and set off again towards Germany. We had lost another 2 hours, but the clouds had started to disperse and the sun was peeking through.

Anyone who has ridden down through Holland on the motorway will understand why this part of the report is sparse. We sat for hours on end and watched the fuel gauge go down and the nothing go by. At the border we stopped at services for fuel and a quick snack, and used the toilet out of trainspotting. With hindsight I would probably rather have just shat myself and dealt with that later. Turns out European long-distance truck drivers are not averse to crapping on the floor, or the walls, should the fancy take them.

Next stop was Leverkusen where we had lunch at a nice riverside bistro on the Rhine. The waiter spoke no English and my German is pitiful, but we were fed and watered. The sun had come out fully and the temperature must have been 30, and we both agreed that we were starting to feel like we were on holiday, finally. With high spirits we geared up and carried on, though it was now looking like our arrival at the hotel that night may be quite late.

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It was almost midnight and dark by the time we reached Seebach. It had been a long day and we had got lost more than I care to admit. We rang the doorbell of the pension. Nobody came and we started to worry that we would have to find a spot to set up tents, but on the second attempt the owner David answered the door, rubbing sleep out his eyes. After much apologising we were shown our room, unloaded the bikes and slept like the dead.

The next morning we ate breakfast at the pension and chatted to David, who took our late arrival well and chuckled at our tale of woe. I can heartily recommend the Pension Williams and will make a point of returning.

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There wasn’t a cloud in the sky and it was getting hot even at 9am, we had no plan other than to drive around the Black Forest all day. The feeling of having no plan and no set itinerary other than to ride our bikes around great roads and beautiful scenery in the sunshine is one that I had never experienced, but quickly realised that this feeling is exactly why we had come here.

TBC
 
At the border we stopped at services for fuel and a quick snack, and used the toilet out of trainspotting. With hindsight I would probably rather have just shat myself and dealt with that later. Turns out European long-distance truck drivers are not averse to crapping on the floor, or the walls, should the fancy take them.


Classic, made me titter :D:D
 
DAY 3 (8th June) - The Black Forest

Loaded the gear back on to the bikes, an easy task for me thanks to the excellent design of Vern’s Worldbeater panniers. All my gear loads in to a canvas Touratwat bag each side, which just lifts out and fits the space almost perfectly. Strap the two lomo roll-top dry bags to the rack behind the top box and ready to roll. Jon’s Varios were not quite so convenient and I felt bad watching him struggle to cram the stuff in and hold it there without it tumbling back out while closing the lid. They look great and are cleverly engineered, but give me a simple top-loading aluminium box any day.

We decided to head back up the B500 to Baden Baden, turn around and come back down again. The roads were nowhere near as busy as I had been told the B500 would be, and we really enjoyed the run up. The sun was beating down and it was starting to get really warm so we stopped at a picturesque area with a big organic type shop, Geroldsauer Muhle, just south of Baden and spent a while chatting to a group of English Harley riders.

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Just as we were about to leave I noticed splashes and streaks of liquid all the way down the right hand side of my tank and pannier. That can’t be good. Traced it back to my front brake master cylinder, which had clearly been leaking. The level was under half so I was going to need to find some fluid to keep it topped up, as a field repair was unlikely. I had installed a new piston and seal a few months previously, which had appeared to work, but I suspected that the heat here was making the leak worse. Pretty worrying as brakes are kind of important on twisty roads, especially when headed in the direction of the Swiss Alps.

Having cleaned the brake fluid off as best I could we carried on, stopping every so often to check the level which didn’t appear to be going down too quickly at all. The drip was still happening but I didn’t appear to be in danger of running the reservoir dry any time soon, and the lever was firm and brakes effective. Carry on, find spare fluid and keep topped up was the plan. I was soon to find out how difficult it is to find brake fluid in the Black Forest when you don’t speak German. After various futile attempts and failures, eventually stopped at a fuel station with a Bosch auto service centre, who understood my desperate mime act and sold me a little bottle of Dot 4 for not a lot of money. The relief I felt at having it in the top box was a weight off my mind, and we enjoyed a leisurely run back down the B500.

Chanced upon a nice spot for lunch at Mummelsee, a lake in the hills beside a lovely old hotel. It was packed with tourists and other bikers, and we stayed a while, enjoying the sun and excellent Bockwurst. Jon couldn’t resist some real Black Forest gateaux which looked nothing like the pitiful imitations we get in Asda back home.

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In no particular hurry to leave the Black Forest that day, we googled for somewhere to set up camp for the evening and decided on Campingplatz Kinzigtal which wasn’t too far from where we were and headed there.

The place looked nice, had a bar and wasn’t too noisy, so we went to reception to see if they could accommodate us. The guy on reception was another dwarf and we wondered if Germany might be somewhat of a sanctuary for them. As we approached he eyed us suspiciously, and we got the distinct feeling that we were not welcome. However he said he had a spot for us, we paid and another chap on a bicycle came out and lead us to a quiet pitch next to the camper vans. Notably though, nowhere near the other tents on the site. We also noticed that we were the only bikes there, and soon realised that this was very much a family orientated campsite. This may have explained somewhat the wee guy’s attitude towards us, but I also suspect that he must have been grievously wronged at some point in his life by unwashed, unshaven, sweaty Scottish motorcyclists. The fear and mistrust in his eyes isn’t something that comes without deep trauma.

We set up camp, cooked noodles, and set off to explore with unladen bikes. The roads around the B500 we found to be even better, and realised that we could spend the whole trip in the Black Forest and be completely happy. This trip we would spend seeing lots of different places, different riding styles in different countries, for short periods of time, learning how best to spend future trips and where to focus.

We headed back to camp and had a couple of (large) drinks in the bar, planning our route in to Switzerland the next day, then retired.

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TBC
 
Hahahahaha. I had forgotten I sent you that CBR pic. Fantastic write up and I'll add more soon although I can't add pics as I broke my phone
 
Great report so far and looking forward to the rest of it
By the way what bike were the little people on out of interest?
 
i cant remember tbh but ill look for a better pic.. I broke my phone so it will take me a few days to get a new one. I think it was an older suzuki
 
I'm on this ferry next week and done it a few times, can't understand how it took til near midnight to get to Seebach other than the three hour delay coming off the ferry. I'm staying in Buhl first night, which isn't that far from Seebach and done the BF a few times straight off the ferry and never got there later than around 4/5pm. Have I missed something ?
 
Me and the missus are doing Ely to lake Como via Reims, Black Forest, B500, Alps, at the end of July. And we are booked into Pension Williams en route for 2 nights.... now I really can't wait.... enjoying it even more as I will be tracing your footsteps it seems... :beerjug: especially if you went to wassen, susten, furka,grimsell etc. On the way to Como. Then stelvio and home via the French Alps and Lyon...:tarka:camping
 


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