After Christmas Day it was a race to sort the bike out. I got in touch with Lufthansa Cargo, all of about six blocks down the road in downtown Buenos Aires, and went through the paperwork with them. They gave me directions to the freight terminal at the International airport, and I set off on Red 5 with her completely worn tyres through the dense traffic. At one toll booth I went to pull away and the rear wheel spun for a second before I got any grip at all. I found myself crossing my fingers that the tyres wouldn't cause an accident right at the end of the trip.
Arriving at the airport I found the cargo terminal easily enough. My Lufthansa docs were scrutinized several times at security, along with my passport and bike documents, but they eventually let me pass and showed me where to park. Sorting out the airway bill with Lufthansa was easy enough, but the cost seemed like enough to have bought my own Concorde and flown the bike home that way! I agreed with them that I would pay cash on delivery as they wouldn't accept cards, I had minimal Argentine Pesos left on me and they wanted US Dollars only. I didn't fancy trying to visit ten or so ATMs to withdraw the necessary money.
Next I took the bike into the local authority to be weighed and crated. I rode the bike onto a set of scales and even though I had broken down my tent and stuffed that along with any other heavy gear into the panniers, along with the big wooden pallet the bike weighed 310Kg. As the minimum charge for freighting a bike was 500Kg, I had a lot of leeway. So I threw in my crash helmet and gloves. I could have easily asked them to wrap me and freight me with the bike :)
The last riding of the trip was when I had to put the bike in gear and ride it onto the pallet, so the guys could crate it. The odometer read 25,408 as I turned off the ignition for the last time, meaning I had done a total of about 24,200 miles since riding out of the terminal in Vancouver back in July. As I walked into the reception area to finalise the customs documents I glanced back and Red 5, crash helmet still on the wing mirror, was being copiously wrapped in packing film. They weren't even going to disconnect the battery!
The customs documents were many, but not overly complicated. When riding into Argentina you are given a permiso form which says you can ride the bike there but not sell it, the same as most other countries in the Americas, however as I was leaving the country without the bike all the formalities had to be completed now. Then I got an unexpected shock. Customs was fine, but the company that had crated the bike needed paying.
Lufthansa had highlighted all the charges but had failed to mention that I would have to pay to get the bike crated. The company wanted 400 pesos (about us$120) and I had about 100. I went to the cash machine in the cargo terminal and it wouldn't give me any money. I knew I had money in the account, so tried to make the company understand that I needed another ATM. It took about a half hour before anyone realised what I was on about, and then it was only thanks to someone speaking a bit of English. They told me there was a fuel station with an ATM up the road, I went there and got the cash, and everything was finally sorted. The bike would arrive in Heathrow on the 29th December.
I flew to Toronto with Air Canada, just over 12 hours (plus 4 hours of delays) on a plane, and promptly went down with a very high temperature and flu-like symptoms. Maybe it was flying from plus 30 degrees to minus 20, maybe I picked up a bug in the airport or on the plane. But it wiped me out for several days. Eventually I flew Air Canada back to Heathrow, arriving on New Year's Day.
Immediately I was reminded of all the things I hate about the UK. The weather, although barely below zero, felt much colder and damper than Canada. It was uniform grey and colourless everywhere. The airport was full of jostling people, and the Tube station was so packed I started to feel a bit too closed in, and went to the Heathrow Express to get into Central London - which was alarmingly expensive. I spent the rest of the day shuddering at the cost of everything. I was thoroughly miserable when I got home, but walked in the door to find a package with two cds of Alaska photos that my friend Jim had sent me, taken on his camera back in August. Thanks mate.
I'd felt a bit too ill and tired to get the bike out on arrival, so went back to collect it on my birthday, the 3rd January. Although it was pleasantly sunny it was still icy cold and riding around the M25 was an endurance test, my fingers were totally and painfully numb when I got home, along with the front of my legs. In the whole of my trip I'd had one item "stolen" - my thick winter gloves. I lent them to a guy I rode with in Peru and he never returned them. How I swore about that during the course of the ride ;)
So, finally, I am home. My days are spent adventuring to the kitchen and dunking tea bags into hot water. Instead of grand mountain ranges my viewing is now daytime TV. I am even thinking about getting a job :)
Would I have done anything differently? Sure - five months is both too long and too short a time. Too long to be on my own, I now realise. I always thought of myself as a loner but actually I need company just like everyone else. Too short to take on the entire Americas. I could have spent five months in Canada, or the US, or South America quite easily. If I'd had company I would have been more inclined to camp in latin America, saving money and extending the trip. I'd like to have taken my time more.
Would I do it again? A definite maybe - North America or South America, maybe Costa Rica, and certainly with a riding partner or a pillion. But there is so much of the rest of the world to see too...
Worst part of the trip? Guatemala and the day I got the puncture. Either that or the bent cop in Panama. I think I was generally having a tough time at that point and just wanted to be elsewhere.
Best part? Now you are asking - Alaska, Canadian Rockies, Chilean Patagonia, Peruvian Altiplano, Costa Rica, Utah, the list goes on. Being able to do whatever I want.
Red 5 is in the garage, wondering when we are going to hit the road again. She needs new fairings, indicators, replacement crash bars, new luggage rails and brackets, road tyres, and a good wash and servicing but for a 25,000 mile old bike she has a lot left in her. I've never been to Rome... hmmm ;)
Thanks for reading and sharing in the adventure. I genuinely don't think this will be the last big motorcycle trip I ever do. But I think it will be the last solo trip.
Best wishes,
Fraser.
Picture courtesy of Jim Green. My photos are online at Photobucket
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