A bike, a full tank of fuel, and the sun high in a foreign sky: does it get any better? This is what aftershave adverts are made of. I had less than 600 kilometres to Sierra Leone. With the will of God and a good breeze behind me, I could make it in well under a week. Men plan: the Lord laughs.
Two months before this I’d left the Army, and didn’t know what to do. No more pretending to be a soldier, no more tanks and helicopters. No more combat trousers and rifles. Back to leathers, back to fast bikes and slow days. Back from sandy countries where people didn’t much care for my presence, back into green and pleasant lands where people didn’t much care for my existence.
A plan is formed...
I had to go on a big adventure, I didn’t know exactly where, or how, but I just knew I needed to go. Stick a pin in a map. How about Cape Town? France, Spain, Morocco, and then roll down the African West Coast all the way to Cape Town. It sounded like a good plan, and sounds easy enough when you say it quickly.
Route sorted, I now needed a bike. It had to be cheap, and it had to be reliable. There was only one obvious choice in my eyes and it was the Honda Cub – with 60 million sold it’s the most popular small bike in the history of wheels. From an idea on one day, to a search on eBay, and finally picking up my new love. To anyone else a dog, but to me she was a hot bitch. The engine was strong (well, you know, it worked) her tyres held air and her bars waggled; all the C90 needed was for me to bring her some glory and give her new life. Pre-purchase checks were completed, a monkey changed hands, and this smiling monkey jumped on the back of his Cub.
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