Despite the economic crisis I never saw an Englishman slamming coconuts together while driving down the road. And no voice told me to look for the Holy Grail, because I was already sitting on it. I have endured many thousands of kilometres of left‑hand traffic, even though there were a few moments of breath‑holding. I have experienced British weather from its, well, not‑so‑best side. And I have made my way through all the lands without ever holding a real penny in my hand. There were occasional payment‑card issues at petrol stations, but because stations are so common it never became a major problem. Above all, I met helpful and friendly…

After 4 weeks, 3 days, and 5 hours the ring, or circle, as they nicely say, closes. It was the expected hardest day of this tour. Just home now. Freely adapted from Achim Reichel’s lyrics from Aloha heja: It was a hard crossingEight hours just grinding the railsCursed the worldSpat into the windAnd swallowed a bit of rainAloha heja … At this point no further text, the summasummarum will follow later. From now on I disappear indefinitely into the Bermuda Triangle consisting of bathtub, bed, balcony‑ia. In random order.

Traffic in front of the window was decent until after midnight, but I still didn’t catch much. In the morning the usual rhythm: pack coffee, get dressed, hit the road. As fast as possible toward the Ardennes, then cut across to Luxembourg. According to the map, this must be the famed meandering valley. And I can confirm, on the upward‑open meander scale this is absolute top‑league. If only it weren’t Sunday and the sun were giving its best. That means there was a lot going on, but still acceptable. Only the cafés were all packed to bursting. So my plan was to find a nice spot and make my own…

The night temperatures these days drop to around 5 °C. No problem, as long as I stay in a sleeping bag that is quite comfortable down to the freezing point. A good piece, which I stole from Bernde back then for my first North Cape tour. The cold, however, makes everything that isn’t in the tent soaked through by the next morning. Today I only had to wait for the sun and calmly made myself a coffee and enjoyed my jam with French bread. In the process I had to note that my petrol stove is now also falling apart. It drips on all edges and corners. Hopefully the thing doesn’t…

… it didn’t turn into a black Friday. It also wasn’t especially great, especially in the second half of the day. First of all there’s a cozy breakfast in this beautiful country house. Before I mount up, I chat a bit with the landlady and then set off in good spirits. The landscape is criss‑crossed with more or less large hills, so I meander without haste through the area. I think I belong to the species of meanderers. The sun is almost constantly beaming into my face today, but the cold wind pulls and gnaws at the nerves. So time for a coffee and a slice of cake. Yes, two,…

The light and the announcement ripped me out of sleep. Still an hour until the ship sinks or something. I force myself up, shuffle to the toilet, splash some water on my face and get coffee. No, lie, that wasn’t coffee, maybe brown water. A look out the window, and wow, it looks great. Sunrise and beautiful light with the clouds on the horizon. Out onto the deck, and it feels mild to me. Maybe I’m not fully awake yet. But it feels like a nice morning, and maybe a nice day will follow. When leaving the ferry the passengers are greeted by a huge rainbow. And while everyone is…

No, the title isn’t a reference to the British TV series. Rather, by circling Britain including Ireland with the AWO I made it a bit smaller than it might already seem from history. So now the last leg in left‑hand traffic, which I’ve managed pretty well despite a few small exceptions and all the worries. For example, I enter roundabouts dutifully clockwise, but perhaps I should still glance to the right now and then to see if something is coming from the side. I think I’ve caused a few wide‑eyed looks once or twice. Something I’m not used to is crossing the street as a pedestrian. It always felt odd…

The calm before the storm cradled me to sleep, the storm itself then bent the tent. The rain falls heavy from the sky, the steppe hardly seems to like it. I think I had a tooth pulled today. Even though there was nothing to see, I kept heading north into the Eryri National Park. Only in the afternoon, after I warmed myself up with a coffee and a soup, did the clouds slowly part. Here and there the sun blinked through, without the temperature rising even a bit. But at least I could see more of the spectacular landscape again. Somewhere in the mountains, after I’d already made the turn…

Slept well, had a good breakfast, and now we come to the not‑so‑good part. The side stand can no longer hold. Better than if I couldn’t hold it any longer, but from now on the use of this soft iron is prohibited. Mark, who happens to be the manager of the Ivybridge Guesthouse, rolls up his sleeves for me and arranges a workshop 8 km down the road. There I explain the problem to the boss, who gives the impression that he hasn’t had to work in a long time (so because of retirement, not for lack of money). I’m assigned an employee, and in a good hour the side stand…

“Do you like Irish breakfast?” someone calls out to me from the side as I come back from the morning toilet. I don’t say no when the campsite neighbors invite me. Real, authentic Irish people from the middle of the country. We had checked in at the same time last night and the man of the family already had an eye on the AWO. I said, “If you do that again, you’ll go blind.” Sorry, a joke. So I accepted the invitation and we talked a bit about Ireland, the relationship with Northern Ireland, and Ukraine. I tried to steer away quickly from the last topic. Please, no such topics…