Each time we took off on the bike, there was a sense that we had everything that we needed right here. I always felt a lightness as I settled myself on the back for the next journey. No handbag dragging my shoulder, no phone constantly turned on, no book by my side in case I got bored, no one to talk to. Just me, all wrapped up, rolling along the countryside. I know, I know, my handbag was in the top box, my phone was turned off in my pocket and there were numerous books on the iPad and I could just hit Denis in the ribs to get him to stop but..

For the time I sat on the bike I could use none of these “things”. I couldn’t buy anything, I couldn’t contact anyone, or be contacted by anyone, I couldn’t distract myself with a books or games or things I needed to do. There was just me……. and everything around me.

For the first few miles my mind would tell stories of what had happened or what might have happened or what could happen. “She said…”,” He said…”, “I should have said…”, “What if…”. And then there’d be a new smell (many times on the motorway I’d smell chocolate!) or a warm gust, or a field of sunflowers, or a big truck blowing its horn and I’d be back. In the here and now, present to all the glory of my senses.

And it was glorious. Every sight could ignite a feeling. The sunflowers, a happy little bubble. The clay tile houses, a warm glow. The villages far below the road, a tight knot! The huge rivers with little and big boats, an expanding space for my breath. All, while I was doing nothing. Just sitting there, my senses were entertaining me.

There’s a lot of fear attached to motorbikes, so that those who haven’t experienced it may not even imagine the joy and the gloriousness. I hope I have enabled you to at least imagine, if not encouraged you to experience!

This is the last from The Tales from the Road series. Thank you for joining us on the journey, it really did feel like you were all there with us. Until the next adventure I will be blogging…… when I feel like it!