Newbridge to Newcastle

This was to be the first trip overseas with my motorcycle and would involve a few major hurdles! The first was particularly difficult: packing the night before and getting up at the unbelievably early time of 6am to catch the first ferry of the day which, to my complete surprise, I managed to do without any tears, bruises or accidents... well there was one little accident but it was unrelated and probably would have happened anyway!

I made it to Dublin Port with about 20 minutes spare, so that's early for me. I checked in and boarded the ship without queueing, and joined 4 other motorcycles at the rear of the car deck. Although I had worked on ferries during my time at University, for something like 5 years, and knew what to expect this was my first time on a ferry with a motorcycle and I wasn't completely confident that all would be well. But all was well; the deckhands helped me get the motorcycle into the right position and lashed it safely to the deck for the journey. They parked me beside another 1200GS, but this other one was the adventure model with all the extras making my motorcycle look like a poorer cousin, a handsome but poorer cousin... It even had the GPS system that I really want but can't justify the outrageous price tag.

I made straight for the information desk to get a WiFi card where behind the desk was a colleague from the HSS ferry that I spent most of my "ferry" time on. It was great to catch up on all the news from Holyhead, who's doing what and where they are now. We were chatting for the best part of two hours and I had just enough time to check my email before we docked in Holyhead.

Getting back to the car deck the owner of the 1200GS Adventure was powering up his fancy GPS. Not only did the bike have all the extras but he was wearing all the best gear too, I was starting to feel like the poorer cousin... Getting off the ferry was a big tricky; the deck was very wet, very smooth and consequently very slippy. I had a few "moments" where both front and back wheels lost traction, the kind of moments where you could instantly lose weight! I managed to make it off the deck keeping the rubber side down and quickly made it out of the port and on the old road to Bangor.

From what I saw of Holyhead it hadn't changed much apart from the new A55 dual carriageway that crosses the island of Anglesea and Holy Island into the heart of Holyhead. I was on the old A5 for a nostalgic ride across Anglesea, a road the I must have travelled hundreds if not a thousand times during my time in Bangor.

I took the road to Menai Bridge and the back road to Bangor passing what used to be one of my favourite pubs - the Vaults, today is has a giant shamrock bolted to it's walls with a dancing leprechaun surrounded by the words "Paddy's Irish Pub" or something like that. I was going to stop to take a photo but it was too sad a sight. With a tear in my eye I took a left at the thankfully unchanged Belle Vue pub towards the main University buildings before snaking down hill to the city centre.

After a little pottering around town I headed east towards Llandudno to call in on a former class mate and then continued east to Chester. I had planned on visiting more people but time ran out and I really had to get out of Wales and get to Newcastle for 7pm.

From this point on I was travelling on dull motorways, passing Manchester and around Leeds before heading north. It was already rush hour and I was a long long way from Newcastle but ever the optimist I was convinced that I'd be there no later than 7.30pm, maybe 8pm at a push... what could possibly go wrong?

Eventually I began to see signs for Newcastle but it was already 8pm and I had something like 50 miles to go. With something like 20 miles to go the road split, one on the right led to the Tyne tunnel and the other to the left was the A1 to the airport. I took the latter which was, of course, the wrong one. I should be heading for Whitely Bay on the east coast but the A1 brought me to the west side of the city, it was only when I passed the point of no return that I pictured a map in my head and worked it out. But, ever the optimist, I reckon that it would be easy to find my way through the city and find signs to the east coast.

I found signs, lots of signs, but none going my way. There were many moments when I had absolutely no idea where I was or which direction I was going, then I'd see a sign for something the I recognised and there was hope before I fell off the map again, wandering aimlessly until the next sign.

I had a feeling I was moving eastward the long way around but it was just a guess as I really had no idea where I actually was. Then, out of the blue, I passed a "Welcome to Whitley Bay" sign... I was so relieved. I felt I had crisscrossed the city so many times that it was only a matter of time before I came across Whitley Bay, and here I was! The next challenge was to find Kerry's street, that took another 30 minutes!! It turned out that I had passed close by several times but eventually I arrived, some two hours later than advertised!

The entire 620Km journey too a massive 8 hours 25 minutes, I reckon the next big purchase for the motorcycle will be a GPS... it may just save what little is left of my sanity!!


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