A Tiger chases a Panzer through Europe.

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killboy

Pack Dog
Joined
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Location
London/New York/Joburg
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Triumph 800 XC
Browsing the for sale section got me into browsing the forum again, and next thing you know I'm in the global reports section. A mate of mine and I did a trip middle of last year I never shared here, so here is page 1. If you guys are interested, I can continue, but I never finished writing it so maybe this will force me to.

Day 1: London to Metz.

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Attempting to pack, and get any sleep on Thursday evening was near impossible. I’d picked up most of the gear I’d need for the trip (camping pillow, towel, etc) that we identified on the test trip (Hogroast weeked) during the week, but now sat with the issue of fitting everything into one tail bag and one tank bag. As usual, I couldn’t pack fully until everything could go in at once (things were charging, and I’d need still need my toiletry bag). So when the 4:15 alarm hit me on Friday (..Its Friday, Friday, gotta get down on Friday…… sorry for that), I started feeling pretty sorry for myself, hoping I’d survive on under 4 hours of sleep for 800 odd KM. It was a tight squeeze.

My packing:
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Packing and racking the bike took longer than expected, and I had to meet JD at the Maidstone Services just before 6. London’s parting gift to me was a light shower. Great, start the trip wet. At the Maidstone Services, we tanked up, and did the last minute planning. This entire trip had a grand total of around 2 hours planning – gotta love last minute winging it. Day 1’s destination was Metz, through Belgium and Luxembourg to avoid French motorway tolls.

Couple ciggies later, GPS points set, we headed for Folkstone to catch the Tunnel. We missed our original booking (surprise) and were put on the next train. This was the first non-commercial Eurotunnel trip for me, and was pretty excited. Something strangely cool about sitting in a tin box with your bike, knowing you travelling under a massive expanse of ocean. Funny thing was, we never had to show our passports, and for us South Africans, we just used to getting grilled.

Waititng to board the Eurotunnel Train.
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On board
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Calais to Brussels was fairly uneventful and largely boring road, made only slightly interesting by fighting massive cross winds along the French sections – must look like we drunk with the lines we were randomly blown in. We had one small stop for a stretch, fuel and a few more ciggies.

Bypassing Brussels central we head towards Luxembourg, and had our first major stop in a town called Namur. A cute setting (although parking was a small issue like with most European cities), and after a quick lunch of Croque maussure we were heading off again. Not much really stuck out, although we didn’t stick around to find anything either.

Namur (I think?)
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Next stop: Bastogne. Roads were getting slightly more interesting as we started getting off major routes. Bastogne is a town that if not for a tank and some WW2 history probably wouldn’t exist. Having a look at the tank, its one seriously massive piece of machinery, but more mind blowing was the hole in the rear. I’d hate to see the shell that punched through 3 inches of steel (could it be 88mm?). We spent about half an hour here, having a coffee, and relaxing by the tank and jeep. Its clear this is an American tourist destination too, and there were a few bikes around including some sexy Aprillias and other sports bikes.

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Note the hole in the tank
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When we left Bastogne, we were fed up with the highway riding, so I hit the GPS to give alternates, and a then a further alternate. We ended up on B roads that weaved back and forwards to Luxembourg, and what must be the scenic route in. Some fantastic corners and switch backs had our boredom cured, and we were finally doing what we set out to do: ride great roads.

The backroads into Lux
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Only on reaching Luxembourg did I realise I had been there before on a previous Eurotrip (I blame alcohol for my poor memory at times). An absolutely beautiful city, topped off with probably some of the best looking women of the trip. All dressed and styled to perfection, seemingly friendly from the waves we got. It reached 5 o’ clock traffic when we were leaving, and as bad as traffic was, it was nearly a pleasure with the quality of scenery.

Luxembourg… definitely a city I could live in for a bit.
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The final stretch to Metz was more motorways, and made good time. My close call for the trip happened taking the highway exit, and I miss-understood the GPS briefly, and at the last minute changed the off ramp split I was taking, involving a quick off road excursion, which could have ended badly but thankfully didn’t. We hit up the camp site, pitched the tents, and then went in search of beers and food, resulting in Pizza, so we sat in the darkness of the camp site eating and drinking. Later that night, V was about to fall asleep, when the neighbouring girl screamed out in orgasm, to what was later theorised as some heavy fisting by a dodgy looking Frenchman. I real pity really, for in the light of the next day, she was actually a pretty girl, just shamefully fisted beyond girlfriend material. But this was the first of our campsite encounters we’d soon find out.

The Campsite
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