Today is exactly 10 weeks since I boarded the plane in Dubai, to come home and await the outcome of the unwelcome events in Iran. My bike was safely parked, beside the croissants, in the Biker’s Café and I expected to be back in 3, maybe 4 weeks; toujours optimist!
How many times ,on this self-imposed odyssey, have I been reminded of Burns’ poem:
The route has been revised and I will not now be going through Iran; seems like that is not in my destiny. The issuance of visas was halted after hostilities started and I applied for one as soon as the gate was re-opened. However new rules, which included the requirement to apply through a travel agent, and have a guide for the whole trip, meant I had to cancel this application and find a travel agent.
This done, nearly three weeks later I was still waiting. Due to the logistics of actually getting the visa – a trip to Dublin was necessary – I made an executive decision to move to the alternative route, through Saudi Arabia, Kuwait and Iraq. Forty-eight hours later, I had all the hotel bookings and insurances required and had the visas in my hands; figuratively speaking since they are all e-visas.
Burns goes on to give what may be construed as good advice:
So apart from the outline route, the only plan is to deal in, and with, the present, not to be upset about what has gone before, and not to concern myself with what may be to come. I know many may think the latter foolish, even reckless, but, be assured, whilst the hazards may be downplayed outwardly, they are internally assessed, and risks are calculated before being taken; well more or less !😊
So on Saturday next – 30 Aug – I will set out from my own “wee-bit housie” here in St Ferriol and take off for Dubai to face whatever the middle-orient has in store for me this time. I have reached a point where I just want to finish the trip; this section, therefore, will not be so much of a tour as just a ride home; a long one right enough (a mere 7 415 kilometres to be exact) but …
An increasingly loud whisper is trying to persuade me to make arrangements to ship the bike home. To be honest, a part of me would be only too happy to do so, and to continue sitting comfortably in my armchair, with my slippers. However, I recall one or two episodes in my life when I didn’t follow the path to the end, opting for an alternative, probably seemingly easier, one, and convincing myself that it was for the right reason(s), whatever it (they) may have been. In hindsight, I’m not sure they were.
I don’t dwell on this, because, whilst life would, almost certainly, have turned out differently, who’s to say it would have been better? I am content with where I am and what I have, but I’m not going to risk repeating the “mistake”. See? Considered!
So, on Saturday, I’ll be off; come share the journey!
Belfast-2-Belfast-By-Bike 