Coventry

Cassie: Today has not panned out how we thought it would – in a nice way. Not that we really had a plan in the first instance. The only thing on our agenda today was to visit the Transport Museum in Coventry – tick. Then as we were leaving Coventry, Graeme thought it would be a good opportunity to get the air conditioning in the car degassed for shipping (a ridiculous requirement of Australian Customs). We were lucky enough to find a mechanic who would not only do this for us straight away, but in the process asked if we would like to stay in his home tonight which he shares with his partner and son, cook us a home cooked meal, enjoy a shower and give us somewhere comfy to sleep. What the!? That’s so lovely. And that’s almost where we find ourselves now. We are waiting for our gracious host to finish up work then we follow him home for the night. Such amazing hospitality from a stranger. His name is Ed, and he himself has travelled to 55 countries! Can’t wait to talk to him more about that over dinner. Graeme is resting against the window of the car. He’s like a child that is all tuckered out after a big day.

Below is a picture of Ed’s workshop and the machine degassing our air conditioning.

Tomorrow we are off to see a family friend in Newcastle Upon Tyne. Elsie, if you’re reading this, we’ll see you soon!!! It’s very special to be seeing Elsie because she’s known me since I was a little girl but we’ve actually never met in the 20 or so years Elsie and my mum have been close friends. It’s going to be a special day.

Graeme (Written a fair bit later):
Wow. Seeing the bikes today was indescribable… but I’ll try. I’m not sure why, but I’ve always been more interested in the trip, the route, the sights, the trucks and the bikes, more than the people. Nothing personal, it’s that my dream didn’t have people in it. I still hold in high regard any anyone who has done something like this – so I guess in a way that’s a kind of respect. The show was for me a visual inspiration of what we the route looked like… I liked what I saw. Anyway, I digress. Seeing the bikes was like seeing proof! Proof that the route was dirty. Proof that it was rough. Proof that it happened.

I feel much more of a connection to the trip through the bikes than anything else. I had such respect for the bikes. I don’t know why. In the same way I have immense respect for our car. Tom said when planning this trip, that it would be a shame to do such a trip and leave the car behind. “Rubbish” I said, “There’s no way I’d be attached to an object”. Well, I was wrong. Although I’m not attached to it, I will always see it fondly. I can already imagine issuing it a respectful nod as I walk past it. Or when seeing it from a window. Knowing it was waiting for us in Siberia. Knowing it was our shelter when it rained. Knowing it started every morning. It’s earned its stripes in my eyes.

Back to the bikes, and kind of on that topic of proof. Seeing the welds in Russia, seeing the helmet comms. Seeing the 20117 miles on the clock. It all happened! It’s weird now that I look back on writing that.. of course it happened? I think that’s why I’ve been so desperate to retain the patina of our car. The dust, the water marks. The oil marks on the roof. It all screams authenticity that I can’t wait to share with the readers. The UK weather has washed most of it away, but for some sick reason, I’d kept cleaning one patch on the bonnet throughout the whole trip. It’s a brilliant white, which even now still sticks out against the relative beige surroundings.  I hope that others get the same out of seeing our dusty car as I did feeling the dust on the motorbikes. We can only hope that I’ve left enough dust, and cleaned off enough mud to satisfy customs. Pfst, lets face it, either way I’m going to get stung for ‘cleaning’, even if it was brand new – what crooks! I won’t have the luxury of putting mine in a museum, so you’ve got about a week to see it before I scrub it within an inch of it’s life.

One thing I haven't figured out with the bike; is I thought there was a dint or a scratch on the fuel tank when it was dropped on the rocks in Mongolia The tank was immaculate, with exception of the tank bag rubbing on top of it and a heap of stickers. Oh I could talk for hours but I must restrain myself.

The autograph I suspect was written to who won it at a charity auction.
We’ve just spent the most amazing evening with our host Ed. Ed. was the mechanic who de-gassed our air-conditioner who invited us for dinner. He spent hours preparing us traditional Indian food, followed up by Indian chai tea. Yum. The generosity astounds us. He set us up on their Wi-Fi too. He’s travelled through 55 countries, and instantly said you can’t sleep in your car. Stay with us. So we did. We’ve chatted for hours (it’s midnight now) about all manor of world politics, travel, finance, you name it. What an amazing man. We’re still touched by the hospitality of strangers.

Responses to comments:
Mum D: Plenty of research. Dead end after dead end. One photo, on a BBC Coventry website, about four years old suggested that Charlie’s bike was there (when the article was written). It was a long shot.
Chris B: Nope, didn’t shock me. In fact the section in the museum was so quiet, I could have thrown a leg over it. I totally should have.
Steven / Mum C: It does seem to have been quick. It’s amazing how much time there is in life to do the things you want.