Looking back at 2021¹: England in view, and corona on the neck. Traveling to more or less distant countries becomes a matter of luck, because each country cooks its own little soup of entry regulations. And the British have served up a very special broth. Corona test on entry, again after a few days, and again … and only British tests are allowed at an outrageously expensive price. One day before departure my destination therefore changes to the more relaxed Scandinavia. Bye‑bye, you funny Brits! 2024: So now after all Britain! Where in economic crises you hustle coconuts and on Chamelot the TV reception fails. My vehicle (Simson 425 Sport / AWO / junk‑box / coolest ride in…

Until 9 I still keep both eyes shut and head to the cereal, fat the boots, and Offjerechtsein to the ritual farewell coffee with Master Lutz in the workshop. Master Raik also drops by as a wink element. By my standards I get up incredibly early and say goodbye shortly after high noon towards Leegebruch. First, warm‑up with a good 200 km. Or we could say hot‑up, if you like, the midsummer is in full bloom and by the time you put the helmet on you get the first little sweat burst. Theory: One go through the B2 via Heide and Fläming, then west around Berlin, and Scholle is already waiting…

Laase, the smallest yet finest AWO meeting, is back on the program for its ten‑year anniversary, after I had to miss it last year for reasons. My conscript will correct me at this point, because it’s not an AWO meeting but a gathering of types. And he’s absolutely right! You do meet a few types there… The route takes me this year west of Neubrandenburg toward the north. After Penzlin the side road turns into Plattenweg, not fast to drive, but decidedly rambling. Demmin, on the other hand, seems trapped in a 1990s time loop. Or perhaps it’s designated as a museum village and they’re trying to preserve the charm…

After not even 24 hours – far too short for this spot – I say goodbye to Laase again and set my sights on Eckernförde. My AWO still drags Ulla’s Ural for a while, until our paths also split on the A20. The rest is more transit, so just keep moving fast. Only in Lübeck do I want to take the ferry toward Travemünde and Timmendorfer Strand. However, despite the GPS, I miss the ferry and end up in front of the toll tunnel. So I make a U‑turn onto the bike path and am forced through the city. Unfortunately there’s nothing worth seeing there and I’m glad to be…

The night was too short, yet a self‑imposed goal forces me to get up. Primarily I want to get considerably closer to Rotterdam so that tomorrow I have enough breathing room for the check‑in. Means: a little after the corner we hit the highway and then we’ll see. At Volker I’ll nick a shrink‑fit bushing for the gearbox, safety first. So I’m zooming around on the highway. Snail‑pace through the Elbe tunnel and a snack‑ and fuel‑stop just before Bremen. At some point I leave the A1 and turn onto the B214 heading west. In Holland I’ve chosen a natural camping site. Only, the breaks become more, my back aches,…

A grim, cool morning. The sun glimmers weakly through the morning mist. Even without rain the tent is soaking wet. During an extended breakfast the sun fights its way ever stronger through the fog, drying most of it out. After packing comes checking the route. A glance at the Dutch road network tells me I won’t even try the country roads. Only just before Rotterdam will I decide whether to turn into the countryside or head straight for the ferry port. Holland from the highway is, let’s say, indifferent. The closer you get to the Greater Amsterdam and Rotterdam areas, the more lanes the highways have and the denser the…

Yes, yes, I did close my eyes last night, but that doesn’t mean it was a restful night. It was pitch‑black, because I was in the interior cabin. An incessant vibration from the ship’s diesel engine rumbled through the whole vessel, always irregularly. At 5:45 the alarm goes off. Get up, freshen up, and off to breakfast. It’s empty. I ask a rushing staff member about breakfast and they tell me “6 o’clock”. “Just eat then,” I think, and look at my phone. Suddenly it says 5 a.m.! I’m going crazy. A bad night, and then it’s too short! What are you supposed to set the alarm for when 5:45 am in…

What a stormy night! In hindsight I’m really glad I didn’t pitch my tent last evening. Sleep would have been out of the question. My cabin was warm and safe, yet I woke up a few times to the howling. Now, in the morning I notice that my nose and throat are blocked. A harbinger of the classic “man’s cold”? I have to endure the rain until nine, then it clears up dramatically and the wind eases noticeably. Today’s goal is the ferry from Aberdeen to the Shetland Islands. In the sunshine I head a few kilometres behind the campsite onto Scottish sovereign territory. The English, however, managed the border…

First, the negatives: a reclining seat is nonsense for the night. Whoever can lie on his back for eight hours with slightly bent hips and knees is either dead or suffering from a disease. On the way back I immediately hit the floor, at least you can stretch your legs or lie on your side. I lose myself again in trivialities, although today was actually extraordinary. The rising sun smiles over the sea through the cabin window. That awakens the spirit of life and I set my sights on the breakfast buffet. Very late I now write to Colin from the motorcycle friends on the Shetlands, with whom I had…

Today, unfortunately, it’s time to say goodbye to Shetland again. Until the ferry in the evening I’ll still swing a few hooks over the island. Northwest of Tangwick Colin recommended Dore Holm to me, a steep rock formation with a hole, or a doorway, basically. Even more impressive was the area around the nearby lighthouse just around the corner. A jagged cliff and a good spot to watch seabirds. The landscape and the weather at this moment put on a real show of impressiveness. Back on the motorcycle I have to bite my lip. I noticed a light oil film between engine and gearbox. That was not going to impress…