United Kingdom: Quaint Countryside
“I’m so close to London, of course I’m going to visit!” Here I wrote “London”, but could very well fit the name of any other major city. That’s the way I sometimes catch myself thinking, and, if I were to live by it, I would end up going places I feel I have to go, instead of places I want to. Sometimes these are the same, but not always. Such was the case when I thought of riding around the United Kingdom, where I had no desire to visit the larger cities, scrambling through heavily trafficked streets, and instead focused on the quaint countryside.
As I came up a blind road in the hills of the beautiful Peak district, I saw a break in the otherwise continuous low, rocky fence that divides the plots of land. It was an entrance, to a small valley between a couple green, grassy, and full of cow dung hills. At the bottom of the valley was a single tree, that provided a decent shade inviting me to relax. I had been told camping in England was not allowed, but if I set up late and pack up early, I shouldn’t have a problem. So, until nightfall, I enjoyed the afternoon sitting under that tree, reading, writing, and exploring the immediate vicinity, which was one green hill after another, divided by these rock fences and narrow streets that hardly any car drove by.
A day prior, I had stayed at Caroline’s in Brightlingsea, near Colchester in the South of England. As a motorcyclist herself, with epic adventures in the Americas and Asia, Caroline and I spoke for hours about the similarities and differences we’ve each encountered during our travels. We laughed at the popular belief friends and family sometimes have about the way of travel of a motorcycle adventurer (or the backpacker, for that matter); where some imagine we travel for months with the luxury one would travel for one week. “If people knew the places we sleep in or the food we eat”, she said. I thought of this as I was setting up my tent in that valley full of dry cow dung. Then again, I had that entire valley to myself, a starry mantle above, and the promise of a great sunrise the next morning; I suppose luxury can be subjective.
I continued riding and camping in the rural areas of England, such as Hardknott pass and Honister pass in Lake district, and the far less travelled Northumberland park, eventually crossing into Scotland, where Ian hosted me near Inverness and allowed me to use his place as I made day trips into the north of Scotland.
One of my favorite places on this motorcycle trip through Europe has undoubtedly been the Scottish Highlands. The words “beautiful” and “breathtaking” would not suffice describing the area; green mountains on the horizon, small hills nearby, dark clouds above, a damp atmosphere, a loch every now and then, main roads wide enough for one vehicle at a time, and, if I was lucky enough, the occasional lonely and ill-maintained secondary road where the only other living creatures I saw were sheep.
One of the days, Ian had suggested I ride out to Applecross, a mountain road in the west of the Highlands. On my way there, I saw more of the coastal Highlands, with smooth beaches and the deepest blue waters I’ve ever seen. I stared down the road cutting in between two mountains, with a creek running alongside it, shortly after Applecross, this was surely what Ian had referred to, it was a sight out of a postcard, only better, infinitely better.
On my way down this road, I looked around in awe and admiration, I had to lift the face shield on the helmet because I felt it got in the way of the natural spectacle and myself. Then, I turned off the engine and cruised downhill by gravity because the engine noise distracted me from immortalizing that tiny piece of world in my memory. If you’ve ever lowered the music volume in your car as you look for an address on the street you’re driving by, you’ll understand what I mean with one sense distracting the other.
I was glad I experienced the Highlands now, since I was told there has been a surge of tourism in recent years, and it’s expected to continue growing. My last night in Scotland, before catching the ferry to Northern Ireland, was at a farm, near Ringford. There, Helen and friends hosted me for one night, and treated me to a picnic table dinner, followed by the funniest brownies I’ve ever had, and the most laughter in the passed few months.
Over the next few days, I rode around the ever gloomy and cloudy Irelands, enjoying the back roads of the green countryside, along the coast and inland. I visited iconic places like Giant’s Causeway, The Dark, Hedges, Cliffs of Moher, and stumbled upon hidden gems such as the Wicklow Mountains National Park.
Ireland, this adventure had begun in this country 4 months ago when I arrived in Cork. It would make sense to end a trip where it started, which was the original idea, but very few things had gone according to plan on this trip; I still had 2 months before closing this cycle and flying back home.
From Rosslare I caught the ferry to Wales and rode towards the Eurotunnel, completing a loop around the UK. I enjoyed my last sunset here atop a hill, overlooking an orange-tinged horizon. I didn’t have a place to spend the night, but I had a 6am train to catch back to the continent the following day. I looked around me and saw a small patch of trees next to this lookout. Not secluded enough for wild camping, but it was late already, I would be getting up before sunrise anyway, and that last day had lacked excitement, so I figured I would get some by camping there, hidden by a few trees next to a lookout, and so I did.
When I was at home, before venturing to Europe, contemplating this trip and the places I would visit. Cities like London, Liverpool, Glasgow, and Dublin were certainly on my mind. And now, I went around and not visited either one of these. I chose to go places I actually felt like going; those big cities will always be there, and they can’t get much more crowded then they are already, so I’ll visit them some other time. However, exploring the corners of the UK on a motorcycle doesn’t happen as easy and getting the best of it was a top priority.
