It was hard, relentless, and persistent; the sort of rain that tested waterproofs and enthusiasm to the limit. It made not one iota of difference to the band of motorcyclists gathered at the A1 services on that first morning, we were heading south, Slovenia.
Always a bit of a chore, the ride down to Dover was enlivened with a slap up breakfast of the sort that Doctors despair and motorcyclists love, a chance to show filtering skills and cast commiserating glances at the car drivers going nowhere on our overcrowded highways, and four hours later, join up with the rest of our party for the ferry.
We hoped that the weather encountered in France was going to set the scene for the rest of the tour, 
as we sat in the town square in St. Omer, a warm summer evening, pleasantly fed and watered, people watching, beer drinking, and anticipating the days ahead.
Mick always encourages riders on these tours, if they want, to make their own way or ride in smaller groups, and at their own pace. Our larger group of nine motorcycles used the drop off system with Rob and Jo on their BMW K1200RT at the rear. We all insisted that he kept his waterproofs on to ensure a dry ride because whenever he took them off it rained! We made good progress through northern France and the Belgium Ardennes to our hotel in the Mosel Valley and it was a noisy group that met up once again for drinks before dinner. The drop off system worked well, except for one instance when finding no one behind us, we pulled up to wait for someone to come into view. George, with 
Dorothy hanging on for grim death came howling past at 90+ mph. His grin was clearly visible beneath his helmet, his eyes gleaming as he saw his chance to ‘open her up’ and try to catch the others – who were now behind him! Mick set off after him, with me doing a Dorothy, believe me he took some catching!
This was my first experience of being a ‘long distance’ pillion. My accident earlier in the year resulting in a broken wrist (scafoid) saw me sitting on the back of Mick’s BMW Adventure for the 15 day tour. It took some getting used to, I kept looking up the road, looking
at the rev counter, prodding him when I thought he should change gear, grabbing unmentionable bits when I thought he should slow down. Many thanks to Jean, Dorothy and Jo for the hints and tips ofhow to stay calm and collected!
The Schwarzwald Hochstrasse Funfhundert, or Black Forest Highway, the B500, wasa disappointment. It was Sunday. Yes, the weather was superb, but the sheer volume of traffic was a good ride spoilt. The only thing to do was admire the scenery. What a change to the ride on the route back, mid-week and quiet, the bikes were used to their full potential on the fast sweeping bends, where the riders exercised their superb bike handling skills, and the pillions their anal sphincter muscles!
It was agreed by all that the Hotel Waldblick in the Black Forest was worth a return visit, and we shall be running a tour there in 2007, the welcome was superb. Not so at the Hotel Konigsee, where in Fawlty Towers tradition the welcome was rude and abrupt, the food abysmal and the bar was closed at 9.45pm. This was the only hotel that was an unknown quantity and despite Managements valid attempt to atone, with the à la carte menu and free schnapps on our return visit, we will not be using them again.
The trip to Hitler’s Eagles Nest at Kehlstein went well, though ask what people will remember, it will probably be the workman peeing into the river from the bridge in the middle of Berchtesgaden!
The view from the Bikers meeting point on the Groß Glockner was obscured with low cloud, several of our riders wished the road had been obscured too – with the cobbles on steep hair pin bends, little did they know this was just the start of the interesting road conditions!
Into Italy and the steep alpine pass cut into the overhanging rock – surely that can’t really be a car and caravan coming towards us? If we thought that was close you should have seen us when we encountered a bus! The bridge repair and subsequent diversion in Slovenia that had us ‘off roading’ for miles on steep gravel tracks in the mountains, the delights of the Vrisic Pass, hairpin after hairpin, with the odd herd of goats thrown in for good measure.
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Taking everything in their stride these hardy bikers fought through mountains of food as diverse as roast suckling pig to warm blue berries and ice cream, they sampled local brews, took up the challenge of white water rafting where they plunged into icy cold water ‘for fun’: rode the challenge of the Russian road, high up in the mountains. The four days in Slovenia were exhilarating and left some of the party planning to return with off road bikes to explore the unmade roads where there is still free access.
All too soon we had to start our return journey, the heavy rain overnight at Winklern in Austria, fell as snow in the mountains and the Groß Glockner was closed to motorcyclists. A detour via Innsbruck saw us back onto ourroute 
north;using the same hotels but different roads there was still plenty to see.
With no accidents bar one of our riders dropping his bike when stationary, and with no breakdowns bar the same rider having his headlight fail (how many men to change a bulb?) overall it was a fantastic tour, with friendships made/renewed and cemented in good food, excellent beer, beautiful scenery… and good craic!
Sue
