For the trip, I decided to change my rather aged BMW R 1100RS, and managed to get a fantastic deal on a Triumph Rocket Three. I had always wanted one of these 2.3 L behemoths just for the heck of it, the thought of having the largest engine in any standard production motorcycle had real appeal for some reason.
Saving I made on the bike allowed me to invest in a few extras, fog lamps, heated grips, rear sissy bar, riders back pad, summer screen, leather panniers, fuel gauge and clock.
It’s also worth mentioning that I am an insulin taking diabetic, and this trip was to prove quite a challenge.
It had taken four days of hard riding to get to Andorra, which included the Pass de la Cassa, which at 8000 feet up was something of a challenge for someone like me who not only felt exhausted, but also suffers vertigo. Not something that is very helpful when you’re negotiating hairpin bends in thick cloud!
The bike had been great on the journey down through France, eating miles with ease and even coping well with bends on some of the more twisty rural lanes. The riders Back pad was particularly useful accessory as, combined with the foot boards, it meant that I felt as if I was riding in an armchair.
We had also experienced some torrential rain in which I found that my gloves, jacket and boots were not waterproof, but the rocket was incredibly stable in the wet, probably due to its immense weight.
We stayed in Andorra for just one night, but it took us some time to find the hotel meaning that we did what could effectively be called the grand tour!
I don’t wish to cast aspersions on place, and I may be being a little unfair, but from what I saw I can only describe the place has being something of a concrete jungle.
For me, it seemed to lack any sort of charm and consisted virtually exclusively, of modern concrete blocks and endless shops offering “tax free” merchandise, a lot of which seems to be at least as expensive as at home in the UK, or of dubious quality.
Dining out was something of an experience. Maybe we were just in the wrong place, but there seemed to be few decent restaurants about. In the end we went to the most expensive restaurant we could find, (after a long day’s riding we would always try to find the best restaurant in town), where the wine was okay and the food not bad, but the service miserable. Maybe it’s the remoteness of mountain life which makes the population appear to be somewhat insular, but the Andorrans do seem to be a somewhat dour people.
This was also demonstrated when we arrived at our hotel, where both the receptionists and the hotel manager appeared to be inscrutable to the point of being brusque.
Despite the fact that I was having problems keeping my blood sugars at reasonable level, and therefore often felt stressed and irritable, my companions also agreed with my summary of Andorra.
I apologise to any Andorrans who may read this article, I just simply speak as I found!
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- French Motorcycle Trip – Day 3
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