Merry xmas to me...

As is traditional, instead of waiting for someone else to buy me an entirely inexplicably festive pair of socks, I got myself something much, much better for xmas. It's also entirely non-sock based:

Gosling One. She's back, and her goose has not been cooked for xmas

After a good few years of being stashed away in a friend's shed gathering dust and spiders, Gosling One has finally been released into the warm, welcoming air of Western Australia. I like to think she was happy to see me, despite my abandoning her here to return to the UK on the completion of my original, round Oz epic. She might be plotting her revenge, but it'll have to wait until she's officially back on the road.

The only obstacle between more motorcycle shenanigans remains getting her a new "rego" from the W.A highways people. What could possibly go wrong, it's the festive season after all. With the battery charged and a bit of fresh fuel in the tank, Gosling One did not even remotely give a damn about her period of inactivity; firing up and thumping away without so much as a "where the bloody hell have you been?"

Next week for the "pit" inspection, so until then, goodwill to Goslings and all that.

Happy festive season y'all!

City lights, city bikes..

This will be the penultimate entry with regard to this Sydney to Melbourne jaunt, as we've arrived in Melbourne and delivered the bikes as promised. Not a great deal to report other than cleaning up Broomhilda wasn't as much fun as I had thought it would be, there's a lot of places on a bike that size that dirt can hide.

We motored in to Melbourne from our overnight spot in Anglesea early this morning, held up briefly by a log jam of traffic crossing the bridge into the centre of the city. Doesn't seem to matter how bloody big the motorbike you're riding is, car drivers (for the most part) just choose not to see you. Mark had decided to opt for the factory fitted BMW satellite navigation system on his bike, so getting lost in the urban tangle was luckily only a minor possibility.

That's official BMW tape that is

We made it to our R.V point with little more than a few clenched fists to show for the ride through the thronging streets, so I thought it would be nice to treat Broomhilda to a little shopping:

She's a 1200 double C

Ludicrously early start tomorrow morning, so I'm off to bed. I'll post up some more images when I get back to W.A and have a chance to sift through the memory card at leisure, there might even be some interesting ones in there somewhere.

Stay tuned!

Wales...no wait, Victoria in Australia...

As it turns out, and here's a tip for all you would be campers out there, a yellow tent and neglecting to zip up said domicile whilst camping on the Victorian coast; means the fly-sheet, becomes exactly that.

After clearing out those flies I could from the tent, and murdering with extreme prejudice those that failed to evacuate my bedroom within the allotted time, I finally managed to get some sleep. Which is exactly what was needed after the 560km from the previous day.

Today was a relatively short hop from the coastal town of Port Campbell at the western end of the Great Ocean Road, to Anglesea in Wales, erm I mean at the eastern end of the Great Ocean Road. Short in terms of distance, but long in terms of time thanks to the ludicrous number of natural attractions along the way. The list of things to see could fill a book, and indeed a few have been written on driving the G.O.R, but I reckon it's best to just get out there and have a look yourself. Or if you can't do that, just read this blog instead!

Consumate professionals these Bike Round Oz chaps

I'd actually ridden the G.O.R (we're on acronymic terms already) before, going in the opposite direction whilst on my round trip (the whole of Oz) expedition, but it was a nice experience to ride it with other people. Also this time it wasn't day two of being on a bike that I'd never ridden before, so I could take time to enjoy the scenery and the ride, rather than worry about bending the handlebars with my vice-like grip of terror.

Pretty dull this coast, nothing to see here move along...

The route threads its way along a majestic, convoluted, intricate and often beautiful section of the Victorian coastline and is popular with motorcyclists, drivers in general, tourists of all shapes, sizes and nationalities and Australians alike. Some stretches of the route cling tenaciously to rock walls, with nought but a metal barrier on the other side between you and the pristine waters of the Southern Ocean. It would have been terrifying if I'd not been having so much fun.

12 Apostles, no 7, no hang on. Bugger it, Australians can't count.

After having had four days of getting used to the BMW GS I was amply prepared to enjoy what motorcycling delights the route offered up, and there were plenty.

Let's just put it this way lest I resort to ever more motorbike clichés, if you ride a motorcycle and you're in Victoria, you will visit the Great Ocean Road. It's just one of those things that is the 'done' thing.

We broke for coffee in a little roadhouse along the way and well, let's just say that when you walk into a place and you're outnumbered by mullet haircuts ten to three, you take your coffee and get the hell out of dodge. We didn't linger long that's for sure, the coffee was actually pretty good mind you. Must have be generations of handed down experience, cousin to cousin to cousin...

No this isn't the one I mentioned above. What am I, crazy?

Overcast but not vindictive skies graced most of the route, only giving way to a brief but powerful thunderstorm as we reached Apollo Bay. Luckily for me, I'd voted myself as cameraman / director for the afternoon and told the Bike Round Oz fellows to bugger off back round a section of the G.O.R so I could get some video and photos. That was the point when the heavens decided to open, and I might have felt a brief pang of guilt as I watched the two BMW bikes motor off into the falling rain, droplets highlighted as slashes of yellow in their headlights. Not much mind you, just a little; plus I got over it very quickly.

Rain. It does happen in Australia from time to time, really.

The rest of the G.O.R was over in record time, too quickly in fact as it would have been quite easy to spend a whole day gawping at the scenery and sweeping round the bends, but alas we had places to be.

Some more rain, but I liked the picture so I put it in.

That place to be was Anglesea, which is where we are now. Tomorrow is essentially the end of the road trip, riding in to Melbourne to deliver the bikes to where they're needed. Right now we're debating the best method for cleaning off the accumulated road grime. I'm all for riding straight through a car wash suited and booted, but I would imagine that unless mother nature lends a hand tonight, tomorrow morning will be spent scrubbing down Broomhilda and her two yellow sisters.

Budgie smugglers and a foamy sponge on standby!

560km from the previous post..

So after being awoken at some ungodly hour by the lyrical styling of the Kookaburra Dawn Chorus (available on CD or Itunes I should think), we fortified ourselves for the epic 560km ride to Port Campbell with cold pizza leftover from the night before. A hearty breakfast of champions to be sure.

Camping at bright. Pine fresh scented air comes as standard.

It may seem strange, but there isn't a great deal to report on from such a long day in the saddle other than the state of my posterior, which is probably best left between myself and my personal physician. (I'm sure she'll be thrilled) This wasn't all a jolly old jape you see, the bikes we're riding actually have to be in Melbourne at a specific time, as a Bike Round Oz group of riders is taking them (and a number of others) over to Tasmania. So today was the day we had to get some serious distance ridden.

The route we took varied from that normally taken by tour groups, this time including some delightful three lane motorway and high speed dual carriageways into the bargain, a must for every avid motorcycle fan. It wasn't all as bad as that to be honest, and we were on a mission after all.

3km left in the tank. That'll get you pretty much anywhere in Australia, possibly not back though.

The weather smiled on us for the great majority of the day, temperatures having crept up into the mid thirties (Celsius), and the occasional decrease as we rode along tree lined avenues proved to be a welcome relief. Rolling golden hills and more of the gracefully meandering roads from yesterday, provided the backdrop to our kilometre killing mission, and very scenic it was too. Even if most of it was flashing past in a blur.

We approached Port Campbell at the western end of the Great Central Road early this evening, after being briefly threatened by a tag team band of rain clouds moving across the plains, heralded by a brilliant arc of lightning on the horizon. We kept the throttles open and managed to thread our way between the storm pockets, only very occasionally picking the contents and getting a light dappling of rain for our trouble.

That's the 'work' section of the road trip over with, tomorrow we travel along the Great Ocean Road, west to east, heading towards our rendezvous in Melbourne on Saturday. Port Campbell holds a few fond memories for me, I visited on my epic round Australia trip on something like day 3 of being on the bike, so I remember the place well. We're even camping in the same spot I did all those kilometres ago. The blackbirds singing in the trees to welcome us in were a nice touch, not heard a blackbird for a good long while.

Tomorrow, unless I fall off the Great Ocean Road and get eaten by a shark, there should be more to report and some better photos.

For now, off to bed. Even the bare ground looks comfortable after 560 odd km in that saddle. On a side note though, odd expression that 'something something odd km'. I can damn well recall riding the even km too, I've got the bruises to prove it!