Peering through the spray as we worked our way through stationary cars on the A1 I wondered at what point motorcycle touring was going to start being fun.
I'd set the FZ6 up for the trip by putting a full set of Krauser luggage on. I'd looked at the Givi luggage and it wasn't anywhere near as slick as the Krauser system. I'd gone for three 42 litre K4 cases rather than the standard of two K4s and one 47 litre K5 as the topbox. I thought this would be too much weight high up and too far back as well as being questionable aerodynamically if the wind got up while we were on our travels. I can report that they worked well and didn't leak even when deluged with water.
Due to the weight I'd also had to change out the rear shock for an Ohlins one with a spring biased towards riding two up. This transformed the bike two up as it was downright dangerous with the standard shock, which was completely overwhelmed when two up.
I'd also added handguards from a V-Strom 650 in case it rained. This turned out to be the best addition for the trip thanks to all of the rain we had.
Rather than shell out £500 on a waterproof TomTom Rider GPS I bought a bicycle bracket for my TomTom One that I'd bought to use in the car. I fitted an accessory socket trailing lead looped up next to the ignition key. Now you would think that with all of the wet weather implied so far that this would have been disastrous. This turned out not to be the case. The little flyscreen deflected all of the rain around the TomTom and it barely got a drop of rain on it. My calculations were: TomTom Rider = £500, TomTom One = £150. £500/£150 = 3.33. So if my TomTom One blew up, fell off, whatever, I could replace it twice and still be ahead of the game. This plan does have flaws, as you will find out.
My back tyre had a nail in it, but as this had appeared when the tyre was virtually brand new I decided to wear it out on the tour and replace it when I got home. A can of Tyreweld was thrown in the topbox, just in case. I also added European breakdown cover for a reasonable £50 for one years unlimited cover.
So, back to the trip.
Amazingly, it stopped raining after we stopped at the services on the A1 for fuel and cups of tea. Things were looking up. We were booked into a hotel right next to the ferry terminal so we didn't have to do an early morning dash for the 0830 ferry.
The panniers were superb and we just popped them off when we checked into the hotel.
The next morning we headed down to the docks with about 10 minutes to spare. Excellent planning! Wait a minute, why are we being waved into the customs shed?
'Are you travelling as part of a group today, Sir?'
'No, erm... we have about 10 minutes to spare, is this going to take long?'
At this point we were waved through. I looked around and there were a zillion bikes queued, well maybe not that many. I guess they must have thought that we were all together.
The ferry was pretty straightforward. The guys from P & O helped to strap the bike down safely and we were on our way!
The weather in Calais was more of the same overcast, drizzly, blustery type that we love in England. We had a rough idea to head down to Wimereux on the coast, but looking at how close it was and how early in the day we had arrived in France we decided to head further south.
The dual carriageway was a bit dull and it was no fun with the blustery wind, so I randomly turned off onto some minor roads and headed south-ish.
This was more like it. We headed down tree lined rural roads past signs for towns whose names evoked images of WW1: Etaples, Villers. In fact that's one thing I did notice; in general WW1 and WW2 are much more evident than in the UK. And I lost count of the number of tanks, memorials and cemetaries we passed.
Things were getting a little dreary again so I randomly took a right and suddenly found myself on a wet cobbled hill heading up into a walled village.
All very French, but then it should be! We decided to head into town and find a place to eat and were not disappointed.
The key in France, as far as I can tell, is to make the effort to speak some French.
I was travelling through Charles de Gaulle a few years ago and we were waiting in at the gate for our aircraft. I went to order a coffee from the guy at a nearby stand.
'Un Café, S'il Vous Plaît!'
Guy, goes away, makes a coffee, brings it back.
'Zat ees four euro'
Obviously, my french accent was fooling no one.
'Merci!'
Now my mate goes over to the same guy to order the same thing.
'Erm, coffee please, mate.'
'Uuuuh?', guy shrugs his shoulders and puts his hands out, palms up, in the universal gesture for, 'I have no idea what you are on about.'
This then degenerates into miming and pointing. And they lost his luggage. But you get my point.
Lunch sorted we sat out yet another downpour in traditional French style of enormous lunch breaks and I took in the general ambience for a while before heading out into the drizzle.
Heading randomly along we ended up at Pont-Remy, which seemed as good a place as any to set up camp. Finding the Camping Municipal was straightforward and after a little bit of Franglais and a discussion along the lines of, 'faire le moto', accompanied by revving an invisible motorcycle we were booked in for the night.
We'd tested the camping gear in the UK by putting it up in the front garden overnight and it all worked as planned, so we finished of our first day eating pizza by the Somme river.
There were some ducks. And the sun came out.
Splendid.
After 15 years off a bike I'd wanted something that would keep me entertained for a while but wouldn't run away with me. This fitted the bill perfectly and has been easy to live with, cheap to buy and cheap to run. The longest trip was 330 miles up to Aberdeen in one go, other than fuel stops. It needs to be muscled into corners, but at least you find out how to ride a big heavy bike that way. Enough power to get you into trouble, but you need to work the gearbox, so it won't creep up on you. Brakes are spongy, but do actually stop you rather than locking the wheels unexpectedly. Exactly what you need when you've been off a bike for a while. Decent fairing keeps the wind and rain off you, even my 6'6" frame. Strengths: Cheap to buy and run. Comfy enough for long runs. Easy to live with. Fast enough to wake you up when the mood takes you. Weaknesses: Heavy vibes through the bars and pegs at legal motorway cruising speeds.
I fitted a flip up screen to stop my head bobbling around like a ping pong ball, tail tidy 'cause it looks cool, hugger to keep the back end clean and, best of all, a jack up kit. This made the bike want to turn in much more easily at speed without making it unstable.
So after all the hand wringing, furrowed brows and research which Yamaha did I buy? The Suzuki DR-Z400SM of course! Always appearing from left of field I found the combination of a grand off list price, 0% over 30 months and a friendly bunch down at the dealers too good to miss.
First impressions? Tiny bike! Smoother than the XT660X too, probably down to footrest mounts etc. rather than any real difference in the engine. Once I got out of a bit of traffic I realised how much shorter the gearing is. Sure it felt a little bit zippier away from the lights but your left foot was a blur of activity as you raced up through the gears. Same story on the motorway, not its natural home I know, but it was running out of revs keeping up with the rush hour traffic. There was a strange surging sensation too on light throttle that felt like a bike about to go onto reserve, if you know what I mean. And this was at 70mph, not on a trailing throttle around town like on the XT. Handling was nice and stable but due to the tiny size of the bike and the dual seat it was hard for me to move around at all. Performance wise it was much of a muchness in comparison with the XT so I was quite happy.
