Three months around Europe

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 – where the broad beach was bisected by rocky outcrops making for several excellent surf breaks. I stayed in a pine forest camp, the only resident , with a hammock supplied for an afternoon siesta.

From this base I went into the monument strewn hinterland. Castles, Roman mosaics, cathedrals, natural gorges and rivers.

Sunday morning is a lovely time to ride. No commercial traffic, the locals having a coffee on their way home from church. Nothing moves fast, only the cyclists out on a training ride.

Negotiating a cobbled backstreet in Batalhya I hit a pothole, bounced off the curb, swerved to miss a car and gracefully slid on my side to a halt.

I was unhurt and so was, superficially anyway, the bike. But it would not start. I checked the fuses, the sensor switch on the stand, the starter motor switch. Nothing.

My insurance gave me roadside assistance , so I called the RAC. One hour later, the bike was on its way to a secure lockup and I was sitting by the pool
in a four star hotel – lunch and dinner supplied .

The next day it was off to the local Suzuki dealer , where they quickly found the clutch sensor switch was faulty. Two minutes later , the bike was running. Cost $15.

I then found that the radiator fan was shorting out, so I borrowed a multimeter found the fault - a bolt had rubbed against the insulation - and ran a new wire. Then I changed the back brake pads and after two hours of labour rode back to my courtesy hotel for a beer , swim and dinner in the company of some English tourists who were doing a cycling tour of the region.

I entered Lisbon with the commuter traffic. Riding alongside people who do the trip daily and have built up a familiarity with the route can be challenging. They look at the bike loaded with luggage, GB plates and NZ sticker and I look back , nod, they smile back and often give the thumbs up. I wonder if they want to swap places. At that moment you feel terribly lucky and privileged to be able to wander like this. That was when I felt like a real traveler.

Till next time

Safe riding