...to Scotland [mostly and many photographs]

[Daniel Kalal]

I've trimmed it, but I fear this may still be far too much...  Do NOT press "reply with quote"!



Scotland had long been on my list of destinations; but, after riding to  Wales (2012) and Ireland (2013) it didn't seem so unreasonable.   All that was needed was to allow more time than usual to account for the  slower speeds of the narrow roads.
 
A second goal was to visit two of the more likely places in France  that my grandfather's regiment (the 348th Field Artillery connected to the  166th Brigade of the 5th Corps) was located during the closing months of  World War 1.
 
 

Italy
 
Where it always begins: Agostini of Mandello del Lario.   That's the owner Alby, followed by Luca and Staffano at the parts desk.
   
 
It's a Stelvio nearly identical to what I have at home.  It comes with  Metzler Tourance tires.  These are fine tires, but I know, too, that they  don't last long; I'd be keeping on eye on them.
 

 
Switzerland
 
I had a long way to go, so I didn't have any plans to wander along the  little back-roads to get there.  At least, not in the beginning.  For  the first time, I rode through the Saint Gotthard Tunnel.  This was at one  time the world's longest tunnel, and today it's still the third longest at 10  1/2 miles.
 
Tunnels are unpleasant for a variety of reasons.  The Gotthard  tunnel has only two lanes (one each direction), so there's often a very long  line of traffic waiting  to properly space  itself before entering  the tunnel (where spacing and speed is strictly monitored).  There's a  traffic light that slowly changes from red to green as it allows one car at  a time to proceed.
 
It was cool at the tunnel entrance (luckily it wasn't raining during the  wait), but by midway through it was nearly 100 degrees F and pretty uncomfortable.   Then it got colder and colder as I reached the exit running out of a sweaty  sauna and into the frigid Swiss air.  Car drivers never know what   they're missing...
 
Lake Lucerne.
 

 
Rivella is something of the Swiss national soft drink.  I always  have a bottle.
 
 
Rarely have I managed to get through Basel without messing up.   There's a key exit you need to take, but coming out of a long covered  freeway, your GPS won't give you much warning.  On this day, traffic had  been brought to a stop-and-go crawl by the normal Basel commuters, so I had  plenty of time to think about where I needed to be.
 
France
 
Schirlematt, France
 

 
A memorial at the location where members of the French resistance were shot  in 1944.  I saw the simple road sign, and turned off on the single-track  road to the memorial, which includes all the names of those who were shot.
 
 
 
Épinal, France was one of the French towns were my grandfather's unit might  have been located (or at least the headquarters was).
 
 
Moselle River
 

 
 
It's not hard to tell that some of these old churches have been through some  rough times.
 
 
My dinner for the night.  Sigh...  I may give up ordering Buffalo Mozzarella  with Tomatoes anywhere outside Italy.  It should be a very simple thing, but  it's often messed with (outside Italy) by adding too much other stuff.
 

 
 

Just south of Épinal is an American WW2 cemetery.  It's a beautiful  place; my respect to the people who take care of it.  Nothing is out of  place.
 

 

 
 
Preparations were underway for Memorial Day.  I learned that many  (perhaps most?) of the graves have been adopted by local French people, so  even when there are no relatives to attend these events for every grave,  every grave is looked after with real care and dedication.  The  posters and letters of thanks (below, left) are from French students.   As is possible, the history and photographs of every soldier buried here is  being assembled into a database.
 

I was making good progress and was able to move off the multi-lane highway  (which is not a good way to see anything in any country) to ride the smaller  roads.
 

 
A guilty looking fox...
 

 

 
Rarécourt, France.
 

 
Charpentry, France.
 

 
Épinonville, France is the other town in France where my grandfather was  likely to have been.  Épinonville was too close to the front lines  and very likely not any of the buildings you see today date from before the  war.  Apart from the school and the church, there isn't much  here, now.
 

 

 
Montfaucon-d’Argonne, France is just a few minutes from Épinonville.   This was the site of one of an important American victory during the  Meuse-Argonne offensive.
 
That tower is a monument to the American soldiers who eventually took the  hill.  It's worth noting that during the battle, the hill wouldn't have  had any trees left standing.  The town of Montfaucon was once on that  town.  Since the war, it was rebuilt down below it.
 

 
 
From the top of the tower, looking at what would have been the front lines in  November of 1918.
 

 
All that remains of the old town is what is left of the church.
 


American WW1 cemetery near Romagne-sous-Montfaucon.  This is the  largest American cemetery in Europe with 14,246 dead.  As are all American  cemeteries, it is maintained by the American Battle Monuments commission.
 

 

 
 
 
I brought my electric vest (much needed) but it wasn't working.  It  seems I wasn't getting power from the aux outlet on the bike.  Rather than  try to sort that out, I wanted to create a new extension cord and wire it  directly to the battery.  I would use my existing cord that plugged into  the aux outlets by chopping off the plug at one end and splicing in more wire  and keeping the powerlet (BMW) socket that I needed on the other.
 
But, I needed tools and I needed connectors.  I stopped at this  likely Derbi shop and was introduced to the diesel mechanic next door.   He didn't speak English, but he took care of everything.  When I  tightened down the connecter to the battery, he shook his head and re-did it,  this time making sure the wire to the battery was precisely aligned with the  edge of the battery.  It was all shrink-wrapped and made very tidy;  everything in its place.  No charge.  Au revoir, and thank you!
 

Reims, France.  I normally shy away from larger cities, but I was   riding through the middle of it anyway, so stopped for the night.
 

 
I need to include at least once photograph of my every-evening routine of  doing laundry in the sink.
   
 
The St. Louis Cathedral was where kings of France were once crowned.  It  is an amazing building.
 
 
 
An Andrew Carnegie library here?  Yes; they're everywhere.

 

 
When one hanging plant from a window balcony just isn't enough.
 

Paars, France.
 


Forest of Compiegne.  World War 1 ended here in this clearing in the  forest.  Two trains stopped on parallel tracks; Germans in one, and French  in the other.  This isn't the place for massive monuments; it's still a  quiet place in the forest.
 
 

Marseille-en-Beauvaisis, France.
 

 
Feuquières, France
 

 
I'm riding towards the coast.  If the timing works, I'll cross to  England this evening.  If not, I'll cross the next morning.
 

 
Lucy, France
 


Dieppe, France.
 

 
I was here with plenty of time.  I bought my ticket for the crossing  and joined the other people (mainly bicyclists from England) waiting until  we were allowed to board.
 
 
I carry tie-down straps with me, but they were not needed on this boat nor  the three other longer crossings of the trip.  This team was very professional and fast  and did a nice job securing the motorcycle.
 
 

 
You could order a full meal, but a ham sandwich and some “strong cheese &  onion” crisps seemed about right.
 
 
 
United  Kingdom
 
England
 
Newhaven.  Arriving very late (that glow in the sky not withstanding)  isn't something I wanted to do.  It isn't always easy to spot hotels and  B&Bs in England (never a flashy sign out front).  But, my first thought had  to be:  keep left; look right.
 
The ferry entering the Ouse River.
 

 
That's my B&B in the center (you can just see the hanging sign in front).   My room is in the garret (actually, it's quite nice).  With a car, parking would  have been impossible, but I'm squeezed in the back alley without much trouble.
 
 
On the road the next morning.  I'm heading in a general west and north  direction with the aim to avoid congestion from larger cities and to end up  generally towards Liverpool
 

 

 
Rogate, U.K.
 

 
Cricket at Cokethorpe School in Oxfordshire.
 

 
Riding through the Cotswolds.
 

 
The ground is soft, so I hunted for a nice piece of yellow Cotswold stone  to keep things level.
 
 
Broadway Tower was built in 1798 more as a romantic notion of what a  Saxon tower should look like than for any practical reason.
 

 
Evesham, U.K.
 

 
I had intended to stay the night in this area (more-or-less) prior to riding  into Liverpool for the ferry to Isle of Man.  But, as I was making pretty  good time, I decided to keep heading west towards Wales.  I still planned to  be in Liverpool the next day.
 

 
 
Abberley Clock Tower (at Abberley Hall School).
 

 
Tenbury, U.K.
 

 
Ludlow, U.K.  This is an old market town, and therefore an excellent  place to stop (they're always interesting).
 

 
I stayed at the Church Inn.  There's a good-sized pub on the ground  floor, with several rooms on the next two floors above.
 
I did a very  good job of keeping my head down and away from low beams.  That is,  until I made the final turn to leave the room for the last time the next  morning and walked square into the door lintel.  The building is at  least 700 years old, so I'm probably not the first to hit my head.   There's not a square corner in the place.
   
 

 
 
The choir was practicing; they were very good.  In between the bits of  music their director would tell stories of what Bach was doing when he wrote  what they were singing (I was the unnoticed, quiet mouse in the back).
 

 
 
 

 
I almost always order whatever the special is.  I'm guessing that this  has been the special for many, many years.
   
 
   
 
The view out my breakfast window, the next morning.  It's obvious why  this is called the Church Inn.
 
 

 
Wales

[Daniel Kalal]

A very changing day.  At times the sun would be out, but then more  clouds would move in.  It rained and then it didn't.  Sometimes the  temperature would dip down to around 40 degrees, and then it would rise to  around 50 (which is a nice temperature for riding).  On the open hills, the  wind was always blowing, but the valleys were generally calm.
 

 

 
 

 
Llanfyllin, Wales
 

 
Once Wales was dotted with active coal mines, but those have all been closed.
 

 
These are the moments you ride for.
 

 
Bala, Wales.  It's funny; some towns were full of tourists (like Bala,  here), but mostly the roads were empty.  I'm thinking that people are just  following the guidebooks when deciding where to go, while leaving the  unmentioned places clear for me.
 

 
The Afon Mawddach and Barmouth Bridge (which is mostly wood). I've gone  as far west as you can go without getting in a boat.  It's time to turn  north.
 

 
Cold and misty and I'm having a hard time seeing through my visor for all the  fog.  It's time to stop at the next tavern and wait for this cloud to lift.
 

 
 
These are all mostly single lane roads with an occasional pull-out for when  two cars meet.  Of course, on a motorcycle, it's not anything to bother  about except when oncoming cars don't even try to give way.
 

 
Pentre-Foelas, Wales
 

 
There's no end of good sturdy stone fences (to keep good sturdy sheep where  they ought to be).
 

 

 
Denbigh, Wales.  A number of castles have been built (and then  destroyed) on this spot.  It was last conquered during the English  Civil War (Charles 1st was here in 1645) and was then completely abandoned  in 1660 after the restoration of the monarchy by which time thick walls were  no deterrent to big guns anyway.
 

       
 
alt="">  England
 
Liverpool, England
 
My plan was to spend the night here in Liverpool, and then catch the  ferry the next morning to the Isle of Man.  It seemed a good plan.   Trouble is; the ferry was booked full.  So, I'd have most of the day in  Liverpool and then would catch the late-afternoon ferry.
 

 


And, away.  These fast catamarans are impressive (and all of them  were built in Hobart, Tasmania).
 
   
 
It's become something of a traditional ferry meal for me.
 
 
  Isle of Man
 
Douglas, in the evening.  I wouldn't have far to ride.
 

 

 
I'm parked on the sidewalk outside my hotel.  Motorcycles are  welcome everywhere in Man and there's no thought of any problem with parking.
 
 
 It's like Wales only perhaps a bit greener.

 
Agneash, Isle of Man.  This was unexpected; I started up the  single-track road (above) but, when I reached Agneash (below), the road ended.   I guess I'll turn around.  I'm on this road in the first place because  I wanted to see the Laxey Wheel from above.
 

 
The Laxey Wheel was built in 1854 to pump water from a mine.  A  waterwheel using water to pump water is a symmetric idea (Man doesn't have  coal).  These days it still turns, but it does no real work (the mines  closed years ago).
 
 

 
Andreas, Isle of Man.
 

 

 
The Isle of Man is perhaps most famous (apart from the Manx cat) for hosting  the Isle of Man TT motorcycle races.  The course follows existing roads.   Not surprisingly, although the races wouldn't start until the week after I was  gone, there are a lot of motorcyclists out on the course seeing what they can  do.
 
I did my best to avoid being on any part of the circuit when I was there.   The other roads were mostly empty.
 

 

 

 
I stopped to take a photograph (above), and these two sheep came trotting  towards me.  You can just see them down the lower part of the road.   They're moving quick.

 

 
Snaefell mountain is the highest peak on Man.  There's an electric  railroad that takes you to the top (starting near the coast), although I had  no plans to take it.  But, when I happened to arrive at this crossing  at the same time the car was coming up the hill, i took the opportunity to  hop on board.
 
 
The view from Snaefell.  It's windy and quite cold up here.  I'm  still wearing my riding suit, so I'm in better shape than many of the  under-dressed tourists who were there with me.
 

 
I'm beginning to rely on a scone with jam and butter for lunch each day.   It's a perfect meal.  This is the little shop and cafeteria at the top of  Snaefell.
 
 
Driving an electric tram is not a difficult job.  You go; you don't go.   There aren't a lot of other options.
 
 
Part of the mountain course of the T.T.  The record avereage speed around the 37  mile course is 132mph.  It's mostly a series of high-speed straights and  gentle turns, but with crazy-dangerous sharp turns with stone fences along the  border.  There are some two-hundred corners and any racer (who expects not  to hit a stone wall) would need to  have all of it memorized.
 

 
Some of the limited padding on the course.  It's still a stone wall  behind the padding, but I suppose this will help a little.
 

 
Tynwald Hill (in St. John's).  Each year, all new laws are read to the  public.
 
 

 
There aren't too many pull-outs on this road, so if two cars meet, somebody  will be backing up a fair bit.
 

 

 

 
The Irish Sea.  I'm on an amazing walking path.
 

 
Castletown, Isle of Man.  Until 1869, this was the capital of Man  (now the capital is Douglas).
 

 
 
And, we're back in Douglas.
 

 
I'm afraid I know nothing of George Formby, beloved English ukulele-playing  comic who died in 1961.  Evidently, in 1936 he made a movie which featured  the Isle of Man TT Races in which our beloved George competes in his “Shuttleworth Snap”  (perhaps it's a movie worth looking up?).
 
 

 
A sad dog waiting at the pub.  These bears are just part of what  this residential yard looks like.  Some people like roses, and some  like having tea-parties with their friends.
 
 
This is a city street in Douglas, but it is also the start/finish of the Isle  of Man TT race.
 
 
It's early morning, and time to return to England.  The sprinkle on the  cappuccino is a nice touch.
 
 
It won't be a high-speed boat this time.  And instead of returning to  Liverpool, I'm heading north to Heysham.
 
 
  England
 
My plan is to run up the cost a bit towards the Lake District, and then  continue into Scotland.
 

 
Morecambe, U.K.
 

 

 
Beetham, U.K.  Sort of funny:  a car and caravan (camping trailer)  had managed to get itself jackknifed in this road, just around the bend.   They were trying to back out of a drive, and it all went wrong.  Of course,  their best bet would be to hand the wheel to somebody with some experience with  a trailer.  They didn't block my path (up and over the curb), so I  didn't stick around to see the outcome.
 

 
Windermere, U.K.
 

 

 
Riding through the Cumbrian Mountains.
 

 
 

 

 
I had every intention of stopping in Keswick to see the home and museum of  author Hugh Walpole, but is was so ridiculously crowded this day that I just  carried on (and the crowds vanished).
 

 
If you get away from the major roads, things revert to around 1910.   This is not a road sign for a highway full of fast cars; it's more suitable  for the carriage driver or horseback rider.
 
 
Skiddaw (mountain) in the distance.
 

 
  Scotland
 
I covered quite a bit of ground this afternoon by riding the M6, but then  took the exit and slowed down in Moffat, Scotland.  I would avoid motorways  going forward.
 

 
I'm at the top floor, but they don't seem to have put rooms in the attic,  so I didn't need to keep my head down.
   
 
 
 

 
That's Robert the Bruce on the roof.
 
 
Yorkshire pudding in Scotland?  I don't see why not.
       
 

 
Leadhills, Scotland.  There is some debate weather Leadhills or  Wanlockhead is the highest village in Scotland.  Certainly, Leadhills has  the highest hotel since Wanlockhead doesn't have one.
 

 
Wanlockhead, Scotland.
 

 
Grouse Moors.  A beautiful area.
 

 
Sanquhar, Scotland.
 

 
Mauchline, Scotland.
 

 
Robert Burns lived in Mauchline, and his house is now a museum.
 

 

 
 
Jean Armour, his wife, is from Mauchline.
 
 
It's another Robert Burns memorial just outside Mauchine, but to what  purpose, I'm not sure (it isn't open).
 
 
Dairy, Scotland is one of several places I stopped to see if I could exchange  an old (but, not that old) English £50 note (from a previous trip) for a fresh  note that would be acceptable.  Who knew that paper money expired?   Eventually I found a teller at the Royal Bank of Scotland who said she would do  it for me (“just this once”).
 

 
 I hit the ferry at Gourock perfectly.  I rode down the ramp, and  minutes later they cast off.  By taking the ferry I avoided any congestion  getting through Glasgow.  This crosses the Firth of Clyde to Hunters Quay.
   
 
The River Fyne entering Loch Fyne.  When is a loch a firth?  There  seems to be no rule (or at least there are plenty of exceptions to that rule).   Additionally, some lochs have fresh water, and other lochs are open to the sea.   They are what they are.
 

 
Inveraray, Scotland, the ancestral home of the Duke of Argyll, leader of the  Campbells.
 

 

 
Loch Awe and Kilchurn Castle.
 

 

 
Loch Linnhe and Castle Stalker.
 
You might think that every Loch that has a remote island will also have a  castle built on that island--you'll not be far off.  In Monty Python  and the Holy Grail, this castle appears at the end of the movie as “The  Castle of Aaaaarrrrrrggghhh.”
 

 
Bidean Nam Bian (Mountain).
 
 
Loch Linnhe.
 

 
Fort William.  Riding into Fort William, I was becoming concerned that  there might not be any rooms here or further along.  Every B&B I saw  and every small hotel had a sign out front saying they were full.
 

 
And, there didn't seem to be anything in Fort William, either.  I  returned to one of the larger hotels in the town just to ask for their help  in finding a room.  Perhaps the clerk took pity on me, but he said he  did have a room and would I want it?
 
 
I had more beds than I needed (perhaps that's why it was available--there  might have been a group cancellation), but I was only charged for a single.   I'll include one shot of my typical  outfit each day (not counting the  riding suit).  That's an electric vest, which was absolutely necessary  these last few days, and there's a silk scarf around my neck.
 
 
We're all looking out the window at the rain pouring down.  I have a  more direct reason to hope it isn't still raining tomorrow morning.
 
 
They've done a nice thing, here.  This is a collective memorial to  Scotland soldiers who served as commandos.  Adjacent to the statue is a  large stepped ring where anybody can leave their own memorial to individuals.   this keeps the primary statue clear, while the ring has turned into a more  personal memorial for families.
 
 
Ben Nevis (Mountain) is the highest peak in Britain.  I'm pretty sure  that's it; but, if it isn't, the real thing can't look too different.  Too  many clouds, and too much rain.
 

[Daniel Kalal]

Highland cattle.  I thought they came only in the one color, but I read  that black is common, too.
 
 
Loch Cluanie.  Shouldn't there be a castle on that island?  I'd  almost bet that if you looked, you'd find the remains of one.
 

 

 
It's cold and windy and raining half the time, but what a great day and great  location for riding.
 

 
Loch Duich and Eilean Donan Castle.
 

 
River Carron (flows into Loch Carron).
 

 

 
Charlestown.  It's raining pretty hard, so now's a good time to stop for  some fish cakes.
 
 
Loch Maree.
 

 
 
Gruinard Bay.  I wasn't expecting to find such nice sandy beaches in  Scotland.  You'll likely have the whole thing to yourself.
 

 
Dundonnel River.
 
 
Ullapool, Scotland and Loch Broom
 
I learned my lesson at Fort William, so I stopped early in Ullapool to  make sure I had a room for the night.  Looking at the map, it

wasn't clear that there  would be many opportunities heading north.
 

 
The Caledonian Hotel is a nice one.  The scent of burning coal is  pleasant.
 
 
Cam Loch.
 

 
Loch Assynt.  And, yes; there is a castle on that island.
 

 
It isn't always clear if a loch is fresh water or open to the sea.   Check the shoreline for evidence of tides.
 

 

 
Scourie.  I was wondering if there might be fuel along this road.   There is.  The Stelvio has a large fuel tank, so I would have been

fine,  but that yellow low-fuel light is annoying (I put tape over that light on my own  bike).
 

 
Laxford Bridge.  I only assumed that since Laxford Bridge was identified  on the map that there'd be a town here.  No.  There's a bridge

 (probably named Laxford).
 

 
I had to decide if I wanted to continue up the coast and then east  towards John o' Groats, or if it'd be more interesting to cut

diagonally  across the top of Scotland.  Time-wise it didn't really matter.  I  decided to make the cut.  That skinny little line on the

map looked  interesting.
 
 
Loch More.  This is another nice example of a typical single-track road.   There are occasional pull-outs for cars that meet.  On a

motorcycle, of  course, you don't need to worry about it.  No matter; there were very few  vehicles of any type.
 

 

 
River Shin.
 

 
Lairg, Scotland.  I departed from my normal scone with jam and  butter and had a toasty.
 

 
Comarty Firth.  I'd be crossing that bridge.  This is the route to  Inverness, but I'd be doing my best to avoid that larger city.
 

 
The Battle of Culloden, 1746.  The deciding battle of the Jacobite  rising of '45 was fought here.
 
There's an inevitability of the thing when you read the history of Bonnie  Prince Charles and the Stuart cause leading up to this point.

 This is  a sad place.  Fifty men were killed on the government side and around  2,000 were killed on the Stuart side.  This was the

last battle fought  on British soil.
 
They've done a very nice job with the battlefield; not the least of which  is to keep it clear.  The visitor center isn't obtrusive, and

the  battlefield probably isn't much different from what it was then.  That  has taken good planning.
 
Red flags are used to indicate the line of government troops, and blue  flags show where the Jacobite line was (this was not a case of

Scotland vs. England).   It's an effective technique as it lets you know how things stand from all  points of the field.
 

 
People still have strong feelings for this place (lost causes will do  that).  The clans fought together, so you'll see markers with

their  names.  Soldiers were buried where they fell; it has more a feeling of  a large cemetery than a battlefield, and is treated that

way (signs advise  people to please conduct themselves properly).
 
 
 
Work continues to return part of the field to the wetlands that it was, and which  played such an important role.  The full scope of the

battlefield is still  cut by a nearby highway--perhaps someday that, too, can be fixed.
 

 
This stone wall was a significant feature so it has been rebuilt, just where  it stood (although not as tall).
 

 
Back at the visitor center figuring out my next direction.
 

 
Elgin, Scotland.  I've been to six different Elgins in the U.S.   It's nice to visit the original.
 

 
 
The number of single-malts available at the bar is astonishing.  The  photograph shows perhaps a third of the back wall.
 
 
 
The Elgin cathedral dates from 1224.  It was abandoned at the time of  the Scottish reformation of 1560.
 
 
 
Breakfast the next morning.  I know I'm going to miss this kind of breakfast,  but I don't know that a person should be eating this way

every day...
 

 
The distinctive pagoda roof of a malting kiln indicates a distillery.   But is it real?  Many distilleries don't do their own smoking

with peat,  but probably all of them sport that pagoda roof.  And, they don't all have  visitor centers.  I didn't see any label for

this one.
 

 
That's the John Dewar & Sons distillery (and there's the pagoda, which  I'm sure is not used).  You  won't find a sign indicating

visitor parking.
 

Speyside Cooperage (Craigellachie) is open for visitors and was really quite  an interesting place.
 
It's all about the barrel.  Most of what they do is repair the  millions of barrels that are already in circulation.  Good Kentucky 

White Oak is what they use.  Other woods have been tried, but Kentucky  Oak is what they return to.
 
 
 
It takes a lot of hand work and skill, but there are machines to supply the  high forces needed to push the iron rings down.  The

barrels are  leak-checked with water and air.
 

   
 
I didn't check to see if today's crew also kept a cat.
 

 
I asked about the red shirts and was told they probably found a good deal  on a package of a dozen shirts and all went in together. 

They're known  to be a  frugal bunch.  They're paid piece-work and can do very well for  themselves.  This same company also works in

Kentucky.
 
(By the way, don't mention “stainless steel.”  You'll get nasty  looks)
 


On occasion I was riding into the thirties.  Cold is cold and 38 degrees  is cold.  Checking the weather, I was confident that this

wouldn't go on  for more than another day, and as I dropped south, things would only get better.
 
 
Tomintoul, Scotland.
 

 
You'll find home-made tablet on most every cashier's counter.  What is  it?  Best I can tell, it's condensed milk with Demerara sugar

which is then  cooked.  Yes; it's sweet.
 
 
When it's too cold for riding, a hot frothy coffee drink (I never was sure  what I'd get) along with the fresh scone with jam and butter

is perfect.   Add a fire, and you may not want to leave for an hour.
 
 
Conglass Water.  These are beautiful hills.
 

 
Sigh.  Tree farms are hardly ever attractive.
 

 
Corgarff Castle.  Last time I was here, the castle was covered in  scaffolding.
 

 
Kildrummy Castle
 
The holding of the Earls of Mar for centuries.  But, in 1715 the  Earl supported James Stuart (the old pretender) and that was that.  If

 you support the wrong king, the consequences to you (and your castle) can be  severe.
 
 
 
Craigievar Castle was the seat of the Forbes family until 1963.  It is  now owned by the National Trust for Scotland.
 

 
If you're in Scotland you should at least try a of bottle of Irn-Bru.   It's orange, but don't imagine it will taste anything like an

orange.  Think  “iron and rust” and you'll be closer  to the mark.
 
 

 
Just beyond those hills, but obscured by the clouds is the North Sea.
 

 
Fettercairn, Scotland.
 

 
I guess we should all reflect on our priorities from time to time.

 
Carnoustie, Scotland.  Golfers will know this place (I'm not a  golfer).
 

 
I stayed at the Station Inn...
 
 
...which gives you a clue to what I was hearing until late at night.
 

 

 
They have a nice World War 1 memorial.  It looks like they're preparing  the flower beds.
 

 
Two VCs from a town this small is remarkable.
   
 
Order the steak pie.  It's the best I've ever had.
 
 
An Arbroath smokie for breakfast.  In this context, a smokie is a  haddock.  The name “Arbroath smokie” is a protected EU name, so you

can't  call just any old smoked fish an Arbroath smokie.  It's very, very good.

 
Dundee, Scotland and the Firth of Tay.  You cannot take a photograph of  Dundee without those big white buildings getting in the way

(who approved  them?).
 

 
Kellie Castle in Arncroach is not far from St. Andrews.  The Scotland  Trust received ownership in 1970.
 

 

 
Firth of Forth and a good time for a break.
 

 
Some towns take advantage of the available space in round-a-bouts to do  something interesting (Austria is especially good at this). 

I'm not sure  what this one means, but it's well done.
 

 
The Tower House in Alloa is one of the largest and best preserved in  Scotland.  The same family we met earlier, the Earls of Mar owned

this  one.  But, after the failed support for the rising of '15, the house  remained in the family (even if the Earl did not remain in

Scotland).
 

 
It turns out that interior photography is not allowed (so, I won't sell  these for profit).
   
 
The once famous grounds and gardens are now replaced by a Tesco and its car  park.  This is the view fro the top of the tower.
 

 
Forth, Scotland.
 

 

 
Ouch.  A couple of local riders on a nice empty bit of road.  One  inexplicably turned off the road before the big lefthand curve and

went through the wire  fence (hitting only the lightweight stakes, and missing the very heavy posts).   I helped push the bike back onto

the road.  The rider was fine, the bike  not so much.
 
 

 
Peebles, Scotland.
 

 
River Tweed.
 

 
Melrose, Scotland.
 

 
I've stayed at Burt's hotel before.  You cannot go wrong.
 
 
The Scottish protestant reformation of 1560 was not kind to Melrose Abbey.   The heart of Robert the Bruce is buried here.
 

 
 
Kelso, Scotland.
 

 

 
  England
 

 
The battle of Flodden Field in 1513.  This one is heartbreaking. 
 
While Culloden was not England vs. Scotland (it was more a case of one  branch of a royal family against another) the battle of Flodden

Field was  clearly England vs. Scotland (with France in the background).
 
There were 60,000 soldiers on this field.   Some 12,000 Scots  were killed and 1,500 English.
 
In the photograph (below), the Scots charged down the hill I'm standing  on, and the English came down that hill opposite.  Presumably,

they  met at the low point.  The dead included King James IV of Scotland and  members of most every major family of Scotland.
 

 
The monument  is fairly recent (1910).  That's the nearby village  of Branxton.  I'm glad there is no visitor center.  You've got to

find this  one on your own.
 
 

 
Rothbury, England.
 

 
It's very windy,  but it's not cold.
 

 

 

 
I didn't see any explosions.
 

[Daniel Kalal]

Otterburn.
 

 
I'm not sure an Italian Moto Guzzi isn't the wrong bike for this road.   I should be on a BSA Gold Star.
 

 
Hadrian's Wall.  Those Roman soldiers were told to build a stone wall  across Britain, so that's what they did.  Even if it doesn't make a lot of  sense when the natural features would work just as well.
 

 
Two sheep walking Hadrian's Wall.  How will they get down?  Perhaps  they don't care; the grass is good on top.
 

 
Haltwhistle, England has had a violent past as have many of these border  towns.
 

 
I stayed at the Manor House Inn.  This building has some seriously  heavy beams holding it together.  The local ale is very good.
   
 
 
 
Crossing the Dales.  This day would include one final blast of cold air.   The temperature never reached freezing (for which I am glad), but I was riding  in the thirties more than is comfortable.
 

 

 

 
Alston, England.
 

 
Lead mine (Whitesyke & Bentyfield).  All the mines that were active  in the Victorian age have long been closed.  You would have seen a lot of  children working this mine.
 

 

 
Rolling down from the barren hills, things warm up to the mid-forties.   That's much better.  I'm managing to stay on the 'B' roads most of the  time.
 

 

 
 
River Tees.
 

 
Northallerton, England.
 

 
Thirsk, England is home to James Herriot (real name, James Alfred Wight)  where he was a practicing veterinarian as well as an author of several books  (collectively known as “All Creatures Great and Small”)
 

 
I once thought that I could park the bike at the Hull docks and go off to  explore Hull.  That was foolish.  The docks are not within any kind of  walking distance to Hull, and there's not much else to see.
 
After convincing the man that I wanted to buy a ticket and didn't just  want to check in, he did set me up.  It seems few people do what I'm  doing--show up at the counter prior to a sailing to buy a ticket.  Most  evidently buy them online ahead of time.
 
 
The ferry on the River Humber.  This is a good sized boat.  Most  every passenger will have cabin for the night crossing (as do I).  There  were some poor students who spent the night on benches, and they all looked  horrible the next morning.
 

 
This time each rider was responsible for tying down their own motorcycle,  but good quality straps were provided.
 
   
 
The North Sea.  It was a very rough crossing (lots of crashing noises  and rolling and pitching, and occasionally feeling a little weightless off the  bed), and I  thought about my helmet that I left perched on the mirror  (thinking that I might find it rolling about the deck).  It was fine, though.   The sea was so rough that the crossing was extended by three hours.  This  would be my last English breakfast--probably for the best.
 
 
  Belgium
 
Koolskamp, Belgium.
 

 <p class="auto-style15">On the Kanaal Roeselare-Ooigem trying to figure out  where to go next.
 
 
Wortegem-Petegem, Belgium.
 

 

 
Ellezelles, Belgium.
 

 
I don't know what connection Ellezelles has with witches flying on brooms,  but that image is everywhere.
 
 
The Battlefield of Waterloo.  This is the 200th anniversary of the  battle--almost to the very day.
 

 
That's the Butte du Lion.  A lot of dirt was moved to create that  observation point, which then changed and smoothed what the battlefield really  looked like.  It's better to leave these things alone.
 
 
The new museum is nearly all below ground. It uses multi-media and clever  computer-driven effects to an extent that I've never seen before.  What  might seem to be framed paintings are really moving images.
   
 
Many soldiers from many armies and countries took part.  No doubt  they've got an accurate reproduction of all of them.  The attention to  detail is remarkable.
 

 
The panoramic movie is in 3d.  It's quite effective.
 
 
Touch the table-top image and slide the aerial photographs of the  battlefield.  I've never seen a touch screen so large.
 
 
But, for all this technology, the battlefield didn't have nearly the same  impact on me that I got from Culloden or Flodden Field or Montfaucon.
 
Marche-en-Famenne, Belgium.
 

 
I stayed at the Alfa hotel.
 
 
 
 
 
The first plaque is dedicated to the American 84th division, the second is  for the English, Scots, Welsh and Canadians that liberated their town.
 
 

 
A dedication to the 951st Field Artillery.  Memorials such as this  are scattered throughout this region (the location of the Battle of the  Bulge).  It's common to see American (and British) flags flying.   Some newer ones date from the 50th anniversary of the battle.
 
 
 
Salmchateau, Belgium.
 

 

 
Oberhausen, Belgium.
 

 

 
The ceremonial location of the creation of the European Union.  This is  where the borders of Germany, Luxembourg and Belgium join--it's an area that has  been fought over for centuries.  It makes sense that the dedication was  here.
 

 
  Luxembourg
 
 

 
Imagine divisions of German tanks moving up this valley to begin the  battle of the bulge.  This was a violent place to be.
 
 

 
  Germany
 
 This bridge, built by the Army Corps of Engineers, was terribly important  during the break-out.  The plaque (and photographs) are on the German  side of the River Our, and are entirely in English.
 
 
 
Imhausen, Germany
 

 
Plütscheid, Germany.
 

 
Malbergweich, Germany
 

 
Malberg, Germany
 

 
I'm doing my best to stay on roads like this.
 

 

 
The Mosel River near Urzig.  There's a new bridge being built (you see  the supports) so in a couple of years you won't need to wind down the steep  hillside to cross the river.
 

 
Vineyards on all the hills.
 

 
Traben Trarbach, Germany.
 

 
I only stopped for a brief break, and didn't walk this trail much more  than a quarter mile.
   
 
Worms, Germany
 

 
 
Worms is an important city--particularly as relates to the reformation and  Martin Luther.  It has been badly damage and virtually destroyed on a  number of occasions in its long history.
 
A “Lindworm” is a dragon (Norse), so you'll see lots of dragons in  images and statues around the town.  That's not probably where the name came from: either Siegfried killed a dragon here or it's shortened from  the Celtic word for “settlement in a watery area.”  I prefer  the dragon story.
 
 
 

 
The cathedral was badly damaged during the war; but,  repairs were made.
 
 
 
Street names from the past have returned.  The history of this part of  town is grim.
 
 
 
I liked this kinetic sculpture.  It's a wheel-of-fortune that slowly  rotates with water.  On one side are the horrible events that have happened  to the city (including the last war), and on the other side are people carrying  on as they always have.  Notice the dragon at the base.
 
 
Back on the little roads.
 

 
Ersingen, Germany
 

 
I was told that today was a religious holiday for this part of Germany.   I'm not sure what the day is, but  I saw a number of these religious  displays that cover part of the road.  People were walking along  looking at each display.
   
 
River roads are nice.  Gentle curves; no surprises.
 

 
The Nagold River.  Is he catching anything?  I saw no fish in the  water, but, I'm not sure it matters.  It's a beautiful day.
 

 
This was annoying.  Road after road was closed to traffic and I was  starting to wonder if I'd be able to get anywhere.  With each closing,  I just turned on any available road that took me in the right direction.

 
Wart, Germany
 

 
This orange cola drink might be the most popular soft drink in Germany.   Anyway, it's the most commonly seen (as with Fanta in Italy)
 
 

 
Horb am Neckar, Germany.  This shows a common theme in many of these  villages.  The old  town is on the hill, but in the late 19th century,  the coming railroad moved the business core down into the valley.
 

 
There's likely an Autobahn not far away (there always is), but this is so  much better.
 

 
I hate Autobahns.  Here, I didn't have much choice, but just as soon as  I could I took the exit at Engen.  I think there was an accident ahead,  which brought the system to a standstill.
 

 
  Switzerland
 
Stein am Rhein.  This is the perfect-post-card town that people might  imagine when they think of Switzerland.
 

 
Two windows looking over the Rhine.  Nice.
 
 
The hotel I stayed in has been there a very long time.
 
 
 
 
 
 
Fish soup followed by fish.  It's all local.
   
 
A beautiful warm day in Switzerland.
 

 
  Liechtenstein
 
Crossing through Liechtenstein doesn't take much time.
 

 
  Switzerland
 
Davoser See.
 

 

 
There are a couple of Alpine passes I've not been over.
 

 

 
I'm generally pretty cautious on roads like this, but there were plenty of  other motorcyclists who have faster standards than I do.  I was passed by  many (I know I'm not upholding the honor of my Italian license plate).
 

 

 
  Italy
 
Tunnel Munt la Schera comes through at the far end of this Alpine reservoir.   It's a very long single-lane tunnel (and not especially well lit) so you'll wait  for the green light before proceeding.
 

 
Livigno, Italy.  This is a tax haven for shopping and for buying  fuel.  I bought nothing.
 

 

 
Now, it's down, down, down to the Italian valley below.
 

 
I return to Mandello del Lario.
 
 

 

[Gino]

Brilliant write up, next time in Scotland give me a shout, you missed some good bits. 

[oldbike54]

 Deke , that is probably the first non commercial pic I have ever seen of Liechtenstein . Amazing as always , thanks for taking us along 

  Dusty

[nick949]

I'm exhausted!  I need a holiday after following your trip.  Terrific pictures, great commentary. 

Nick

[malik]

What a trip! Many thanks.

Mal

[injundave]

Wow! Amazing pix, thanks so very much.

Two further comments: the fast catamarans were made in Hobart, Tasmania, Australia, not New Zealand. The film starring George Formby is called No Limit and is a hoot. Well worth a look.

Dave

[Daniel Kalal]

the fast catamarans were made in Hobart, Tasmania, Australia, not New Zealand.

Oh man!  good catch of that stupid error.  I've been there...

[nick949]

George Formby - master of the double entendre

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8KQ6Wmbi5ig

[jackson]

Thanks for posting these.  They ARE fantastic!   

[balvenie]

Thankyou, is a grossly inadequate expression for this Epic work, Daniel

[krglorioso]

It's a very nice day in Northern California.  I sit at the computer, riding along on this journey with Deke. 

Karen says, "Why aren't you out riding?" 

"The Guzzi group has a Daniel Kalal travelogue and I'm reading it".

"Oh..him again".

Ralph

ps:  Thank You, Daniel, for yet another adventure.  I always feel I'm along for the ride..

[injundave]

Oh man!  good catch of that stupid error.  I've been there...

I kinda suspected you might have been....

[StuCorpe]

Enjoy both your pictures and your travelog. Thanks for sharing.

[LowRyter]

whoa Deke.   You went to a barrel factory but not a distillery? 

What a great journey. 

[Daniel Kalal]

You went to a barrel factory but not a distillery?

I've been to a distillery before (Glenfarclas).  But, frankly, there's not a whole lot going on--you can watch "heat" and "time" but that's pretty esoteric.  Nothing moves.  The cooperage, on the other hand, was a bundle of activity by comparison, and with genuine skill involved.

Now, if you're wanting samples of the product, you can hardly avoid that anywhere you turn in Scotland.  The locals will be drinking "The Famous Grouse" blend, but there will be plenty of single-malts available for the Americans coming through.

[Muzz]

Wow, what a fantastic trip. Thanks so much for taking the time and energy to present yet another of your fantastic travelogues.

When they have "The famous Grouse" on special out here it is one of the cheapies that I drink.

[lucydad]

Daniel,

Thank you so much!  Europe has always impressed me with the beautiful landscape.  We rarely got out of the big cities when we visited a lot when living in Tunisia.  Your touring, photography, and descriptive skills are first class.  History is a big interest of mine also, as I had a great uncle KIA in WWI and he buried in an American Cemetery near Bony, France. My dad served in the European theatre and toured France, Belgium, Luxemburg, Holland and into Germany via truck and foot and tent.

What a ride!   

[Rich M]

Looks like an awesome time Daniel and Thank you very much for sharing with us....

[jcctx]

Thanks for sharing this great trip!!!

[O]

What a breathtaking trip!  Thank you for taking the time to post and document it for us!  I spent entirely too much time staring at your pictures today during extended breaks from work.  The little details you provided brought us on the trip with you.  Thanks again!   

[lorazepam]

thank you so much for the wonderful pictures and commentary. So much history and beauty is awesome to see. My father was part of the liberating force at Antwerp, and moved east as they advanced on Germany.

[Lash]

Superb! Many thanks for sharing.