Motorcycle touring isn’t all about
what happens on the road. Sometimes
the romance of travel extends and
allowing time to be hopelessly side-
tracked is all part of it and is one of the
reasons I prefer to have no plan.
Leaving Lyon with regret but with
my French colloquial vocabulary
much improved, I crossed westwards
to Brittany.
Spring was calling me home but
France had yet more surprises for
me. On the way to the Roscoff ferry I
stopped at Morlaix to watch yachts set
off for the annual ‘round Guernsey and
back’ race. No sooner had I switched
off the engine, when I was invited to
stay by a friendly bike enthusiast who
admired the Enfield. She made Breton
crepes and showed me the beautiful
coast where we swam.
My last hours in France were
great fun. In typical French style, the
French ferry staff went on strike that
morning. During the three-hour de-
lay, I met some other two-wheelers at
the head of the queue. We shared our
take-home cheese and wine supplies
and when the strike was over, were
quite merry and had a hilarious voy-
age home to Plymouth by which time
we’d had food and coffee and sobered
up.
With a total of 2,736 miles (4,403km),
I’d had an eventful three-month trip. I
returned with a black eye but no bro-
ken bones this time. I was home but I
knew it wouldn’t be for long.
I’d read his book and was mindful of
a quote from Robert Louis Stevenson,
he wrote “I travel not to go anywhere,
but to go. I travel for travels sake. The
great affair is to move.” JF
Jacqui's a mover and it looks like she'll
be on the move again very soon, no
doubt seeking adventure for her next
book. Her current publication; Hit
The Road, Jac! is one of the best travel
biographies you'll read, see our review
on page 114 and checkout Jacqui's ad-
ventures at -
www.jacquifurneaux.com