Biking Sweden: Goteborg to Helsingborg
Trip Start
Jun 02, 2008
1
6
48
Trip End
May 01, 2010
Goteborg,
Sweden
Saturday, June 7, 2008
Sitting on deck the sun still strong... some drunk Liverpool football supporters started to chant "there's only one Kenny Dalglish... One guy had collapsed in a heap over the other two but periodically woke to continue chanting and wave his bottle in the air. Thomas smiled laughing at them, I cringed as one of the women staggered accross the deck in mock gesture against the wind , playing to her bemused audience her skirt riding up round her over generous thighs. It was like a scene from Viz.
Arriving in Gotenburg we made straight for the beaches south of the city...taking advice from locals on a campsite - the name of which I now forget. In a place as beautiful as Sweden - famous for its free camping, we were shocked to find a mass of caravans and tents herded up tightly against each other, with no trees and an unpleasant wire fence bordering one side. The only view was of the road which youngsters on mopeds were using as a pulling track - riding up and down to check out the talent. As Thomas disappeared into reception an old guy came up and started chatting telling me how he'd met many of the other campers in Vietnam
at ferry terminal
. I imagined this veteran lived here all year round thriving on the social scene of card games, meetings around the wash rooms, trips to the water pipes and al fresco drinking...Dismayed I looked at Thomas returning " Can we go somewhere else? I pleaded. Right now I'd settle for the forest no wash rooms, no beer...But Thomas was tired and he didn't want to drive any further. "We'll get up at the crack of dawn , pack-up and get the hell out of here - is that OK? I fought off my urge to escape and resigned myself ..camping hell!We pitched up facing the fence and then left in search of a meal. There were only two places to eat and both had a strange Tarantino "Dusk 'till Dawn" feel about them..the waiter dressed in a shirt similar to the type you'd find in an Ann Summers shop - cut high at the shoulders revealing bulging biceps. I wondered if we'd be entertained to some kind of show later or perhaps we'd get locked in as the waiters turn into Vampires.... My imagination was way over loaded right now. I needed a decent kip. We grabbed some food and hurriedly left returning to noise of a loud party going on in the next caravan.. surprisingly - despite all odds...I slept well that night...
At first light we left taking the coastal road, stopping on the way at an idyllic cafe perched on a beautiful cove We met a couple of Swedish bikers on Harleys returning from Santorini and Naxos - two of the most beautiful Cyclades islands... I felt part of a new found bike social underworld , unknown to motorists - or for that matter scooterists (strangely excluded..)however just 10 minutes later the bike stopped firing and we glided to a silent halt
collapsed at terminal!
. Refusing to restart we pushed her off the road and I collapsed in the sunshine. "Give it 10 minutes and it will start" Thomas confidently stated ... 30 minutes later and four attempts we gave in and summoned backup. Within an hour backup arrived in the form of a blonde swede and rescue truck. The Ducati was strapped on with great care and attention ...Our stuff was then casually thrown on the back - and I had visions of a trail of my shoes, tent and bags littering the coastal road....I perched precariously between the two Scandinavians (needs must!) no seat belt in site, the Swede clad in shorts and bare feet on the pedals...what you might expect in outback Australia not sensible Sweden which seems to think limiting alcohol is a good thing...They talked constantly through the journey both in their own languages, both understanding each other easily... you couldn't envisage a similar scenarios between say the Welsh and the English...
At the garage our luck changed as a mechanic returning from a Sunday trip took pity on us ..no sooner had he taken a look, the bike miraculously sprung into life however as is customary for men they spent the next 45 minutes discussing an array of plausible reasons for the fault (the fuel pipe, .. the tube leading into the fuel pipe or the um fuel pipe... ) ...the fact the garage was closed and this guy was on his way home didn't stop him sharing the mutual love between man and bike ...After a quick test run we decided to risk it and make it back to Denmark....we'd lost few hours but should still make the campsite south of Copenhagen by Evening...
