London to Vienna on a Motorcycle
Before mobile phones and easy communication home. No portable cameras, no photographic record of this trip, which took place in Autumn, before the bad weather. Things we learnt, doing large numbers of miles on a motorcycle is incredibly hard, especially when two up. German roads are unlike any other, you have to wonder at the mentality of a nation that allows unrestricted speeds on autobahns. That said the roads were beautifully engineered, even on a motorcycle you can see for miles ahead.
London to Vienna is 951 miles by the shortest road route, don’t recall us having a map, making any preparations, or consulting anything more than motorway signs. It was a last minute decision to go, I had no crash helmet. I borrowed one from someone at work and was horrified that it wasn’t a full face helmet, but that wasn’t going to stop me going. No leathers, no protective elbow or knee pads, they weren’t a thing in those days.
The trip would turn out to be hard, but not in the way hitchhiking was, we tended to be too cold rather than too hot, travelling two up at over a hundred miles an hour gave you this constant feeling of imminent death, which hitching never did.
Arthur has a newly acquired Kawasaki, top of the range at the time, bought in Aberdeen while working offshore. His one concession to safety had been to plump for bright red rather than black, ‘because black just looked too evil’. I had no motorcycle, but had done enough riding to know what was required from a pillion passenger, when to hold on and when to lean into a turn.
Grab Rail
The grab rail gives the pillion passenger something to hold onto, apart from the rider. The rider has the handlebars to anchor him and a slightly better idea of when rapid changes of speed are going to take place. Holding onto the handlebars 100% of the time is no great shakes, doing the same with the grab rail is a bit more of an ask. If you are going 0 to 60 in 3 seconds you have to be pretty confident in your arm strength, otherwise an undignified grabbing the driver around the waist is the only alternative. Not recommended. We had intended to share the driving but insurance was difficult and Arthur seemed to think I was something of a boy racer, a solid assessment.
Riders View
This is the riders view. Pretty good eh? All the passenger can see is the riders back. Ships captain on the bridge or stoker below the waterline. Which would you prefer? I felt like the stoker. As soon as we were travelling ‘a ton up’, it became impossible for me to peer ahead without the open face helmet flipping up as the visor caught the air current. I had to content myself with looking sideways and with prayer. After a while the trucks in the inside lane all appeared to be stationary, an optical illusion which a constant 40mph differential in speed creates.
Normally a single rider will edge to the back of the seat and lie on the tank to minimise wind resistance at high speed. This was impossible, two up, so Arthur had to take the full force of the wind himself. It also kept the speed lower than it might have been.
Autobahn
Adding to our discomfort were the speeds of other vehicles. In the UK it would be fairly easy to maintain a position in the outside lane and not have to worry too much about what was coming behind. On an unrestricted autobahn, 125 mph was considered sedate and we were passed by an endless stream of cars doing just that. In fact sometimes we would actually be holding up traffic doing 110 in the middle lane, with the inside lane a continuous line of trucks.
German Service Stations
We had relatively good wind protection in the form of clothes on the bike, but this did not stop us getting cold, so we would stop regularly at service stations, go to the mens toilets, and stick the hot air dryer up one sleeve and then the other. Five minutes of this and you were warm enough to carry a cup of coffee without shaking.
Vienna (Wien)
The only people on the street at two in the morning when we arrived were street walkers. They were somewhat reticent, when we marched up to them asking directions in less than perfect German, perhaps we should have removed our helmets and bright orange cagoules. When we eventually found our hosts apartment, they were out, drinking. Not a great start.
The people we were staying with mostly seemed to work at the U.N building. Pérez de Cuéllar was too busy to see us, but we got shown some ancient cars, which had been abandoned in one of the car parks and were now so tied up in red tape that they couldn’t be moved.
Vienna is famous for the Prater Wheel and The Third Man, which neither of us had seen, a bit like Casablanca. The cafe’s were good though, particularly in the Parks.
A demonstration of two animal rights protestors with a banner and a dog warrants the attention of a battalion of Austrian riot police, fully togged up, armed, and ready for anything. Not for the first time I think that Austria is lucky Arnold Schwarzenegger has become their most famous ex-citizen.
The Journey Home – Vienna to Amsterdam. 750 miles
Salzburg
We had the time to do a bit of touring on the way back, the fact that we missed out on Munich suggest we were too late for Octoberfest. The Munich Beer Festival was and still is on the bucket list. However Salzburg was the home of Mozart, something which came as a pleasant surprise to us both.
Heidelberg
Heidelburg Youth Hostel, remember two girls singing “You can’t always get what you want”. Like to think they were singing this about me or even Arthur, but could be wandering in the realms of fantasy here, most probably it was the motorcycle they thought was cool.
Dachau
Grim, there’s not a lot else you can say about it. Not a good idea to wear motorcycle boots when you walk around, especially ones that make noise every time you take a step. Imagine having this place on your doorstep.
Sneert
Dutch pea soup. The things you remember. Remembering names of foreign foods, is not something I’m good at, our final rest stop and that warm soup in a Dutch service station must have made quite an impression. We went to visit Marja in Amsterdam, then I took an overnight magic bus back to London and started work the next day. I haven’t done any motorcycle touring since.
Notes
| Left work at Bush House, met up with Arthur, went to Ealing to collect my stuff |
| Safety equipment was at a minimum, I had borrowed an open face helmet with push up plastic visor(they don’t make them any more). A pair of Lewis Leathers Motorcycle Boots and some offshore bright orange protective rainwear and that was it. |
| Tired already by the time we got to Dover or was it Zeebrugge? |
| First experience of German autobahns began after Aachen |
| Started the autobahn sitting happily in the outside lane doing 105-110mph. Then a gentle beep beep, we move over, and a car goes past doing 135. |
| From then on we stuck to the middle lane, after a while the trucks in the inside lane doing 70mph start appearing stationary. |
| Need to stop every hour at German motorway services, just to warm up. Develop a technique for sticking the hot air dryer up the sleeve of my jacket to get circulation going. |
| Arthur does all driving, I offer to drive, but am accused of being a boy racer, when I have a quick go. So am relegated to the back seat |
| Give up trying to look ahead, visor on open face helmet flips up whenever I try. |
| Riding in Austria I become convinced that we are going too fast, then manage to persuade myself that Arthur has better night time vision. Don’t come even close to an accident so this must be true. |
| Arrive in Vienna 20 hours after departure, at 2am. Only people on the streets are female street walkers. They seem askance when we stop them for directions. Could it be our halting German or helmets and orange waterproofs? |
| Apartment where we are staying is empty and locked so we try to sleep in corridor, until the revelers, our hosts return at 3am |
| Prater Wheel, fantastic cafes. A demonstration of 2 people with a banner and a dog warrants the attention of a battalion of Austrian riot police, fully togged up, armed and ready for anything. Not for the first time I think that Austria is lucky Arnold Schwarzenegger has become their most famous ex citizen. |
| Abandoned vintage cars in the UN car park, bureaucracy means they haven’t moved or been cleaned in 40 years, big organisations are the same everywhere. |
| A more civilised, leisurely and cultural return route with many stops |
| First stop Salzburg which we discover was Mozart’s home and birth place, the things you learn while travelling |
| Wander around Dachau Concentration Camp wearing motorcycle boots, Lewis Leathers boots had metal on the soles and made noise when you walk, not a good look or sound, but my only footwear. |
| Heidelburg Youth Hostel, remember two girls singing “You can’t always get what you want”. Like to think they were singing this about me or even Arthur, but could be wandering in the realms of fantasy here. |
| Celebrate arrival in Holland by having a bowl of Snert (Dutch Pea Soup) in roadside cafe. Nothing ever tasted so good. We arrive at Marja’s. No idea how I got back to London, probably the Magic Bus |
