On returning from my first trip back to Scotland, in 1983, I walked off the plane in Melbourne, Australia, went downtown to a motorcycle shop, and purchased a 1976 R90S BMW and riding gear. I caught up with more relatives, then headed up the east coast, through bush fires and a spectacular dust storm, to Brisbane, where a major cyclone stopped me. So I flew back to New Zealand with the bike on the same plane.
On arrival from the second trip back, in 1985, I purchased a RS100 1000cc BMW off a drunk Australian cricketer who insisted on taking me for a ride around Black Heath at night. The ride was scary, but the bike was good, so I bought it.
A Kiwi girlfriend had taken some time off work, so we toured Britain and a little bit of France, and then I was left to continue by myself around Central Europe, doing the Channel Islands, into France, through Paris into Switzerland, Northern Italy, Germany, Belgium, and back to London to ship to New Zealand.
On the third trip back from Scotland, in 1987, I went to Guernsey in the Channel Islands, where my cousin was working for BMW. He informed me that they had a red 1981 R80RT 800cc BMW bike for sale on the Island of Jersey. I went to have a look and had a test ride around the island. It had a bit of surface rust from salt spray, and a few nicks and scratches from the previous owner, a doctor, doing his rounds, but it had done only 8,000 miles. I bought it, tidied up a few things—panniers, catches, etc.—and then took it out on the road.
I crossed to Cherbourg-Octeville in France. My plan was to visit my mother and Bob on an annual working holiday at Argelès-sur-Mer in southwest France. They looked after 20 sites in a French motor camp for British rail staff on holiday.
The bike was great: very comfortable, especially at low speed as I traveled through small villages and sightseeing.
From Cherbourg-Octeville I went down the west coast to Le Mont-Saint-Michel, Dinard, Dinan, and the Caves of Lascaux. Using minor roads, I continued to Sarlat-la-Canéda, Domme, Perpignan, and finally to Argelès-sur-Mer, not far from the Spanish border.
On arrival, Bob had a bad pain in his shoulder, so I assisted them for a few weeks until recovered. In the meantime I got a good run-around locally into Spain and Andorra.
I abandoned my plan of a big loop because of lost time, but being so impressed with the route I had come, I chose to go back the same way, but using different roads. I started by crossing into Spain, up into Andorra, and back down into France, then across to Carcassonne, then north. It was a great ride.
I returned to Guernsey. There, I mowed my uncle’s lawn, where I found an old Range Rover in the middle of the lawn. It had been there a long time, going by the grass height around the doors. I bought it, fixed it up a bit, then put my bike in the back and shipped them both back to New Zealand.