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You could see the road to Odessa from Kiev was part of a centrally planned economy – the potholes were so uniform and frequent. Actually that is a little cynical, the road was not bad, I was able to maintain 80kph and there was hardly any traffic.

There were heavy rain showers and I try not to ride in them, but it was such a soulless landscape, flat, dour and nowhere pleasant to stop I pushed on. At times, I was the only vehicle moving as the Ladas and Kazam trucks ...

The signs were there. The sharp intake of breath by the Polish mechanic servicing the bike in Lublin, “ You are going where?” Then there was the three hour wait at the Polish border while they “fixed” the computor.

After that it was the Ukrainians pushing us forward in the line. Like lambs to the slaughter perhaps? At the border I met a Norwegian on a Harley. His name was something like Mogturd Mogturdson so I called him... Mog. He told me he was a Philosophy Lecturer ...

From Mostarrmy plan was to head for Sarajevo, then onto Banja Luka, cross the border into Slovenia and then head north to Prague.

Well that was the plan, Maureen, my GPS didn't do Eastern Europe. I had planned to download the maps but didn't get around to it. So it was back to maps and compass. But identifying towns and direction by using the cyrillic alphabet was pretty difficult Needless to say I got lost. Actually it was quite a pleasant time. Bosnia is heavily ...

Before I bang on about my travels north from Dubrovnik, I would like to crave your indulgence for a digression. No you say, well tough because I am going to anyway. I have a “friend” who sang in a band which for a nanosecond enjoyed some fame. Indeed , he was interviewed by then pop prince, Peter Sinclair and was amongst the first band members ever to wink directly at the camera on a local TV pop show. Actually , he was so taken by Peter Sinclair that he went to a barber asking for ...

The road from Bol Nuevo , Spain to Bari in Italy provided a glimpse some of the worst aspects of society.

It starts pleasantly enough, winding through the hill to Cartagena. From then on it just goes backwards. In the 70's this coast was the premier package holiday destination. To meet demand hotels were built and designed by architects and developers whose catch cry was “ Yes I know it looks cheap and nasty but the money I make from it means I won't have to ...

I didn't realise how much the daily joy of riding the bike had taken out of me. My first few days at my friend's home in Bol Nuevo were spent sleeping 10 hours a day. In addition, after having being solo for so long , it was hard to take in and concentrate on the many different conversations going on.
Glyn and Jan were lovely hosts. They had visited this part of Spain for over 30 years and moved permanently here in 2000. They bought the shell of their house and Glyn frustrated ...

I spent four days in Lisbon. I had arranged to meet a friend's daughter, the short but perfectly formed Ms Pinky . I arrived early so spent two nights in a campsite on the northern side of Lisbon, moving into a central hostel for the last two nights.
Ms Pinky is a real character. She had spent two years wandering the world, then decided she should go back to NZ and try to put down some roots, but the restlessness remained and she is off wandering again. Carrying a backpack ...

On the coast road to Lisbon, I began to feel like a traveler. Despite its clean by the Porto Vespa club, the bike was again dusty and bug splattered. My riding jacket was equally dusty along with my boots and my helmet had its own particular patina..

The road bumped between little coastal villages, then cut through a 700 year old man made pine forest. The scent in the early morning air was sharp and cleaning.

I spent two nights at Figuera da Foz ...