Remoteness

Adventure, Australia, NSW, Personal, photography, Poetry

Wild Horses Kosciuszko National Park

Remote from the noise and the bustle

In the bush with the wild horses

In the wilderness

On a mountain top camp

On the coast 

The golden sandy beach 

Stretching to the horizon

Hungry Head Central Coast NSW

Finding special places

Where human activity and nature blend

Yarrangobilly Thermal Pool

Winding along the roads less travelled

Finding the wild things

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Overwhelming beauty of nature

Adventure, Australia, Personal, photography, Poetry, Spain

Did you go to the Guggenheim in Bilbao?

And I had

The huge construction of of shiny titanium with its labyrinthine galleries

The best of humanities construction

And the oohing and aahing ensued

But only 80km away was the Picos de Europa

Vast canyons of granite

Ribbons of gorges

Crystalline glaciers

Shaped by the earth itself by nature the great creator.

I saw the Cathedral in Santiago de Compestella

With its imposing edifice

Its halls and alters adorned with gold and silver

The faithfuls tribute to God above

To his heavenly powers

But north of Santiago de Compestella

On the coast is the Praia das Catedrais

The marble buttresses carved by the sea and the wind

The halls and caves rich in the colors of nature, the sheen of the rock the soft green of the moss

Natures gift to us to treasure and enjoy

I find I have my faith now in nature

In the earth

Not in a belief, a god, a spirit, an omnipotent by non existent creation of a prophets mind

But in the earth and the land that we too often take for granted

The earth and the land that gives life

I met an Aboriginal Elder in Cape York – Willie Gordon

From the Guugu Yimithirr tribe

His descriptions of the relationship between the Aboriginal Australians and the land shifted my understanding of the land and nature

The life giving force of nature and the land

For we are of the land and at its end we return to the land

Cross the Celtic Sea. Are they spirits of the past calling?

Adventure, Europe, Ireland, Personal, photography, Poetry, travel

It was a misty night

As the ferry left Cherbourg

The next day the emerald isle.

My forebares left on an immigrant ship

More than 140 years ago

Driven out by desperation and hunger

And I’m on the car ferry from France

During the night the sky cleared and moon cast her silver light upon the sea

And at Rosslare the sun was shining it’s welcome.

The Irish on board were talking about how good it was to be back home

Its not my home but the blue blue sea and the emerald hills sure tug at the heart strings

Divine intervention

Adventure, Europe, France, Motorbikes, Personal, travel

By Brest in Brittany I realised nearly 10,000 km of mainly mountain riding had taken its toll on the front tyre

The left hand side had totally worn out.

But it was holiday time in France.

The Moto Guzzi dealer was shut for holidays.

The big parts store had a tyre but the mechanic was on holidays.

I was searching my phone to find another store

Then divine intervention

This young lady comes out of the store and says “follow me”

Who was I to argue as she climbed onto he Kwaka 1000.

She let me around the back streets of Brest to the Kawasaki dealer

The only shop that was open over the holiday period.

It was kisses all around. A bit of quick French I didn’t understand

Then I was told to take the bike into the workshop and choose the tyre I wanted.

Had to have the pirelli angel to match the divine intervention

Ch Ch Changes (with apologies to David Bowie)

Adventure, Europe, Motorbikes, Personal, photography, Poetry, travel, United Kingdom

Changes are afoot

ch ch changes

Turn and face the strange

ch ch changes

Don’t want to be a richer man

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Just gonna be a different man

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Time may change me

But I cant trace time  (lyrics from David Bowie – Changes )

So changes are the theme of my life at the moment

I have 12 working days left till retirement from full time work.

By mid June I will be back in the UK on the Mighty Breva for chapter 3 of my Moto Guzzi European Adventure

This time

Tracing my Celtic heritage and Celtic history in Wales, Cornwall, Galicia, Brittany and Ireland.

Riding the Haute Pyrenees/Altos Pireneos

becoming more adventurer and less piecemeal

more spontaneous and less planned

more in the moment.

There is a strange mixture of excitement and trepidation coursing through me

from the anticipation

of the

ch ch changes

in front of me