My nephew is in Spain on his BMW. He's a proper adult,but not been into bikes that long...maybe ten..twelve years...had an MB50 as a kid but then drifted away from two wheels for a looooong time. Then out of the blue he decided to pass his test,asked his Uncle,(me),to help him buy a bike.He's owned quite a few now,proper biker,goes abroad quite a bit,sometimes with me and my oppos,sometimes with others.He's got a LOT of experience ,not someone you have to worry about. But not the kind of guy who says,"shit happens",when things went awry...you know the thing,like if we got separated for instance there was always a bit of an...intense?...debrief..like, "where the fark did you go /we said do a left at the motorway" kind of vibe...nothing heavy,forgotten over a few beers,and then,"where are we going next"... But lately,(since he had a bit of an epiphany in the US on a Nick Sanders trip),he's started to see beyond the...ah...top of the windscreen,so to speak...to see the more spiritual feelings that come with riding motorcycles. This is his latest post on Facebook: "Ok so what have I learned from the last 2 days. Well don't fill your tank with Diesel, that's a given. But what in regard to this lifestyle and maybe taking on something more complex and remote. Well the universal law of motorcyclists looking after brother motorcyclists continues. There I am in a bike shop with the owner nigh on tearing his hair out trying to pump the foetid diesel petrol mix through my bike, he still went out of his way to make sure I was catered for with coffee and water not to mention a running commentary of what was occurring....even though we both knew I didn't understand most of it. The most engaging aspect of the encounter was, after charging me 90 euro's for a good 3 hours work and at least one mouth full of petrol ( not enough in my view). He wouldn't let me go without enquiring what football team I supported, before proudly announcing that he supported FC Real Madrid. Rather than piss on his chips, I answered. I am now a Chelsea fan who doesn't like Arsenal. Of course no one should get upset, it's all a little white one to lubricate the bonhomie of a shared experience. As a parting gift I receive a litre bottle of water.Why's that ?,well...motorcyclists know how dehydrating it is to ride....touching really. So this is my first trip where I'll spend a good proportion of it thinking and navigating both geographically and culturally on my own. It wasn't without trepidation that I chose to make the journey like this, it was deliberate. Training if you will, as stated above. What's incredible is that prior to let's call it "The incident" I was hung up on the most innocuous things, feeling some degree of apprehension just going and buying petrol (because of the language barrier). But after the diesels baptism of fire, I found myself laughing to myself as I rode along thinking about how silly that was (not to mention a combination of hand signals and the Microsoft translation app goes a long way). The point being that to get the full flavour of the experience you have to "Shit or get off the potty" e.g. Get stuck in, it's the adversity that defines the experience and like anything, with knowledge comes experience and so whilst I sincerely hope the rest of the ride passes without this kind of incident I have to say I appreciate it all the same. ...you are now all cordially invited to rip the living piss out of Diesel Boy!"
Sounds like a radical rebellious type. The type of person who embraces extreme-style things... next he'll be doing a HUBB weekender talkie thing.
When I toured the indian sub continent I wouldn’t have seen half the places I saw or met half the people I did if that great big heap of shit I was riding hadn’t broken down every 50 miles or so. Sounds like your nephew is having a similar experience all be it slightly more self inflicted lol.
