Everywhere Virtually

You may be wondering what the ‘wet’ dry run is all about. It was initially intended to be a dry run for a much bigger European tour on the F800GS. It easy to forget, living in the UK that we are already in Europe. Anyway the 3 day trip to Devon, via Wales was set to be a very wet and windy one.

It started on a Friday afternoon and packing up the bike took longer than anticipated. Lady M was worried about me and was quite upset after I was 30 minutes late. She had bad vibes about the trip and 500 metres from home her gut feeling was correct when I dropped the bike with myself, M and the luggage on it. I pulled up to a junction. Put my left foot down and it was further down than I thought…. gravity took over and we were going down in slow motion.

M sustained a bruised leg, I sustained a bruised palm of my hand and the bike lost the end of it’s clutch lever. Annoying but not a deal breaker. So in the true spirit of adventure I rode back to base and we removed as much excess baggage as possible.

Once we dusted ourselves off we got going again. Our route was to take us along the M56 to Chester, down to Wrexham, Oswestry, Newtown, Builth Wells, Brecon and ultimately Abercraf. Traffic was heavy on the M56 so we peeled off and went cross country for a while.

We made good progress through mid Wales and the scenery and the roads were wonderful. Towards early evening the weather started to close in and we encountered some light rain. At this point I was wishing we hadn’t been quite so ruthless with removing gear. I was getting chilly and the summer gloves were not adequate despite the heated grips.

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In my minds eye I had placed Abercraf at the northern side of the Brecon beacons. In reality it was on the southern side. This meant only one thing. We had to cross them. The Beacons loomed large and the peaks were hidden in ever descending cloud, rain and strong gusting winds. It was by now 10pm and all hope of an evening meal extinguished. The road had no white lines and the place was deserted. It’s a unique landscape that is similar to other UK locations such as the Pennines, Exmoor, Dartmoor, the lake district and the highlands. It can be bleak which in it’s own way has a certain beauty and isolation which is a rare thing on this crowded island.

Finally we came upon the Abercrave Inn. Made famous by Ewan McGreggor and Charley Boorman who ate there during their BMW off road training. The owner and staff were very hospitable but the evenings riding was not over as I was soon to find out. When filling out the guest form I realised I didnt have my wallet. I had that sinking feeling, that draining of blood from the head feeling that you get when something as vital as your wallet is not where it should be.

A few miles back on the road I had shifted about on the bike a bit to alleviate my numb bum and thought it must have fallen out. So I rushed out and hopped back on the bike. I blasted back up towards the Beacons. I scanned the wet, orange illuminated road for anything resembling a wallet. My thoughts becoming ever pessimistic. If it did fall it could have bounced into the undergrowth at the side of the road, or into the ditch, under the hedges.

I forged on, climbing higher towards the mountains and imagined the days ahead without a wallet. How would I get money, new cards, new licence, membership cards etc. etc. I reached the stretch of road where the white lines once more disappeared up into the dark oblivion. I came to a stop and noticed a toad hopping across the road. I did a u-turn around the toad and rode back to Abercraf/Abercrave.

Upon entering the pub car park the main bar man came out to greet me. We found your wallet on the bar! I was astounded and elated. I’m not religious but I did make a promise of £10 to St Anthony if he helped me find my wallet.  A promise is a promise.

As it transpired I had arrived at the bar earlier, removed my wallet on autopilot and placed it on the bar. When I had to fill in the guest form I had flipped the bar mat over so that I could write the form. In doing so I had covered my wallet and in my tired state had not spotted my mistake and went into headless chicken mode.

So I bought the barman a drink, he got me a drink and the kitchen staff made us sandwiches despite it being nearly 11pm. So a big thank you to the Abercrave Inn! I would highly recommend them.

After all that excitement we called it a day and crashed out for the night.

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