The weather was overcast, cold and wet for the first time since the trip had started which made us alter our route and head straight to Oslo where my friend Henning Sunde and his family had planned a BBQ party for us.
It was a tough day making us realize how hard Nordic the climate can be. The temperature came down to 6 C again, the rain became heavy and I nearly froze, a situation only avoided thanks to the nice gesture of our friend Hakon who kindly lent me a fleece sweater.
We arrived in Oslo at 06.30 PM having covered some 640 km, part of which on a motorway. We couldn’t find the very typical rural house (Berger Gard) we’d hired rooms in on the outskirts of Oslo so, we decided to ask a taxi driver to lead us there. After the usual and necessary shower our friend Henning came for us and led us to his house for the promised BBQ. It was a nice evening in which we all had fun and talked about how we’d met three years ago when they were in S.Miguel Island. Henning very kindly asked his father, an ex-ski jumper, to provide us with a guided visit to the Oslo Olympic Ski Jumping complex. His father was also a member of the Organizing Committee of the last Olympic Winter Games held in Oslo.

We met Julia and Hakon again at 10.00 AM who, in yet another friendly and kind gesture, provided us with a guided tour of the very pretty city of Oslo. We had a superb lunch by the marina and afterwards proceeded to the Ski Jump where we welcomed by Henning’s father who went out of his way to show us everything in detail. The place is very impressive and boasts an incredible view over the city of Oslo.
By 04.00 PM we finally said goodbye to Henning’s father and to our friends Julia and Hakon who were extremely kind and helpful to us during our stay in Norway in which they were with us for most of the time. We were only together for three and a half days but that was sufficiently long to develop a deep feeling of friendship amongst all, so much so that when time to say goodbye arrived, an embarrassing and moving moment of silence took over.
It was with great regret that we finally crossed the border into Sweden leaving behind a country full of fabulous landscape, great roads and wonderful, well mannered, orderly and kind people. This is indeed a country where the word democracy has full meaning. We didn’t see any signs of extreme wealth and saw no poverty in this country where minimum salary is four times higher than in Portugal.
As per program we left towards Gothenburg where we arrived by 07.00 PM after riding 375 km. I took a wrong turn on entering the city (first road mistake of the trip) and had to ask a lorry driver for help. We followed him as he drove his huge tractor and led us almost to the hotel door.

After a good night’s sleep in Gothenburg we left to Berlin at 08.30 AM, going past Malmo, Copenhagen and Gedser where we caught the ferryboat to Rostok in Germany.
The weather was perfect as it was for most of the whole trip.
I met Jorn Rosenkilde, an old friend from my early Internet days, someone who has fallen in love with the Azores. His passion for these islands is such that he maintains a well illustrated site named "Beautiful Azores" which is full of information and has more than 100 visitors per day. That’s why I decide to nickname him the “Virtual Ambassador for the Azores “ in Denmark.
After this nice meeting we took to the road again and headed towards Gedser which we reached at 01.30 PM and had to wait for the 03.00 PM ferry because we were too late to catch the 01.00 PM boat.
We disembarked in Rostok at 05.00 PM and set off to Berlin. I took the wrong entry into Berlin and ended up on the East side of the city. This mistake meant that we only got to the hotel at 10.00 PM after stopping for dinner at a motorcyclist’s bar in the outskirts of Berlin. After this mistake I decided that this was to be the last trip without a GPS.
The day was 740 km long.

After a routine oil level check and at 8.00 AM we were on our way to Dresden and finally Prague, Chek Republic. According to the AutoRoute program we should see a road sign pointing in the direction for Prague. Due to road works this direction was always painted with a red cross over it. Finding this strange we stopped at a petrol station where a smiling employee handed over a photocopy of the alternative itinerary. The number of people stopping and asking must have been so large that the owner of the petrol station decided to provide a free public service by giving away photocopies of the road map… Even so, the itinerary was so complicated that we got temporarily lost on one of the many little villages we went past. I wonder where we would have ended up if it wasn’t for that copy!
On arrival at the border I had a little incident with a German driver who seemed to be annoyed because I passed him on the right side on the approach to the checkpoint; he then threw his car at me and nearly run me over deliberately. Generally speaking German drivers almost never leave the left lane and show total disrespect towards bike riders. It was my wife that prevented the issue from having a more drastic ending. On this matter and after many thousands of kilometres all over Europe, my opinion is that French and Spanish drivers are those who show the kindest attitude towards motorcycle riders whereas German drivers are the worst behaved.
The first impression after crossing the border wasn’t the best because of the high number of prostitutes standing by the road side. This is definitely not a very nice welcome note for any country.
Later on and still in a village near the border I was stopped by a police woman who accused me of overtaking a car in a stretch of road where it was forbidden and also of riding over the speed limit. The woman spoke but her own language and German so the dialogue between us was somewhat difficult and funny. She checked my bike’s documents and passport and eventually allowed me to go without applying any fine. It was there and then that I realized I was visiting a Police State, something that is still felt along the whole of the country, Prague included. We met many police patrols on the road to Prague especially in critical places. They use binoculars to spot their “victims” and seem to be very fine hungry.
Annoyed at the whole situation I missed the entry to the centre of Prague and the quickest solution was to ask a taxi driver to lead us to the hotel. I had been warned that a taxi fare should always be previously negotiated in Prague prior to the ride but, anxious to get to the hotel after the 420 km and all the incidents in the meantime, I didn’t do this and as a result, the driver charged us € 30.00 for a little ride of about 15 minutes.
After checking in at the hotel we still had time to have a stroll in the city centre. On the day after we went on two different guided excursions which enabled us to get to know almost the whole city with its superb architecture, beautiful monuments and ancient bridges over the river Vtlava. The only thing we didn’t like in Prague was the authentic exploitation of the tourist. Everything is very expensive and in some cases even more expensive than Norway.

In order to try and minimize the effects of the intense heat that increased and we progressed southwards, we decided to leave to Lyon (France) at 07.00 AM.
Curiously, maybe because it was a Sunday, we didn’t meet any Czech police patrols on the road to the German border which we crossed at 08.15 leaving behind that feeling of police oppression. The road between Prague and the border was excellent.
We rode pretty fast and, after lunch in Baden-Baden, we arrived at the French border, near Besançon, by 02.45 PM.
For the first time in this trip we almost lost Carlos when he was delayed by German drivers who wouldn’t move out of the left lane of the road to let the bikes overtake them.
Having ridden for about 1126 km we reached the Lyon ring road at about 06.00 PM under intense heat and were helped by a young French rider who volunteered to show us the way to hotel. After the usual shower and change of clothes we took the underground to the historic centre of Lyon and ate an excellent meal in a typical restaurant called Le Gaston. Upon returning to the hotel we left the underground station and got lost taking some 45 minutes to find our hotel. Obviously we were doomed to get lost even on foot!

Once again we left early, at 07.00 AM to Valencia, Spain, attempting to ride before temperatures rose for as long a distance as possible and to see if we could catch the ferryboat to Ibiza at 05.00 PM.
We crossed the Spanish border near Girona at 10.30 AM and later stopped at a road side restaurant just after Barcelona to have lunch.
On the road to Barcelona we saw thousands of Harley Davidson bikers who were coming back from meeting organized in that city to commemorate the 100th anniversary of the manufacturer.
The last stretch of the journey on that day was almost painful due to the intense heat felt by us all.
We didn’t make it to Valencia on time to catch the ferryboat so, the decision was to proceed to Denia where we could catch one later on.
The 90 km distance between Valencia and Denia was a race against the clock so that we could catch the 07.00 PM ferryboat.
After a day of 1098 km most of which were run under temperatures above 30şC, we finally got to Denia just 30 minutes before departure time.
We were at our hotel in Ibiza, Blau Park Hotel in San Antoni, by midnight.
It was in Valencia that Annie and Manuel separated from us because their option was to spend the rest of the holiday period in a resort near Almeria.

We spent 9 glorious days in Ibiza, going to the beach and generally resting after the first 13 days of the trip in which we covered about 9000 km.
Even so I managed to do another 911 km whilst on the Island, visiting its many beaches and beautiful bays. On the last day I damaged my auto radio’s joystick while washing the bike prior to our return to Portugal.

Day 22 – July 10th

It was at 02.00 PM that we caught the ferryboat in Ibiza to return to Denia. We arrived in Denia at 07.30 PM due to a delayed departure. In order not to vary too much I got lost entering Valencia again and only found the Express by Holiday Inn Valencia-San Luis Hotel at 10.00 PM, thanks to a taxi driver yet once again. Annoyed because I’d managed to get lost again, I dropped the bike right in front of the hotel. Thanks to the protectors I use, the bike was only scratched on the side case but my ego suffered a great big bump. After this unfortunate episode the idea of eventually buying a GPS became a certainty.

Day 23 – July 11th

We set off at 07.00 AM eager to get to get home in Lisbon.
As opposed to previous occasions, this time I didn’t get lost in the outskirts of Madrid and we went by this city around 11.00 AM.
We rode fast and managed to be in Badajoz at 02.00 PM where we had lunch. The temperature here was around 42şC in the shade!
We crossed the border with Portugal around 03.00 PM, local time and at 04.30 PM we were crossing the Vasco da Gama Bridge and arriving in Lisbon after covering the last 1008 km of a memorable trip with no major incidents except for that one in the tunnel in Norway.
It was only when I got to my apartment in Lisbon and connected to the Net that I became aware of a kind email sent by the Portuguese fellow biker and MP, Rodrigo Ribeiro, inviting us to a reception in front of the Portuguese Parliament.
This would have been the perfect ending to this unforgettable 10958 km long trip.