AM HERE... Let the Bells Ring out...

To all my (former friends and family) you must all be rabid for some news...
















I have crossed the Great Barrier Reef Threshold of my mind, and have thus landed squarely in this alternate reality which I am calling (insert drum role here)
















"A Diversion in Europe"
















The continuation of The Many (Mis) Adventures of myself and my not so alter ego... DR N Thusiast.
















After lining up a very well preserved 1993 Yamaha XJ 600S, via the wonders of the Internet , last year in Hungary... place of my fairly recent birth... and jumping backwards and forwards thru the tangle of flaming hoops and rather bizarre nightmarish red tape (every relation to the former Soviet state) in having it licensed for the road...












I was able to ride the little Divvie a grand total of 10 365 Km thru 16 countries! I could have bought something larger, faster, more modern, certainly more expensive for sure, but the Euro Diversion Yamaha is very nearly identical to the 93 Seca II sitting at home in my garage. She's proven to be a fine bike over the years and fast enough (well nearly), light enough, tight enough and with the high cost of petrol... cheap enough to enjoy immensely.
















I rode "Kis Piroska" named after the very sweet star from the tale of Little Red Riding Hood, to Berlin in the North, and Athens in the south, during the summer of 08. You can catch a little of last summers rides in the April 09 edition of Canadian Biker magazine.
















Having decided to keep her for another season, Piroska was lovingly packed away for winters hibernation in the bustling metropolis of Jaszkiser Hungary (pop: 8000) while I flew home for the winter, to deal with the RSP season.
















By mid April, E ticket in hand (just like being at Disneyland!) and having been voluntarily delayed while waiting for a condo purchase in Phoenix AZ to grind it's way thru... I was on my way to CIAp (no relation to the Central Intelligence Agency) and a seat aboard a Lufthansa Airbus jet, winging its way across Greenland enroute to Budapest via Frankfurt.
















Frankfurt airport proved once again to be a near lethal nightmare, long lines, way too many people, stern looking German security officials (they take this terrorist thing very seriously in Euro) and rushing the 10Km or so, on foot to gate A21 from Gate B44. You'd think a B gate would be next to an A gate, but in reality... nothing could be farther from the truth. (well the gate may have been farther) In afterthought I should have just rang the dinger line overhead and had them put me off near Gate 21. Ha... fat chance. Nien! Is verboten!!
















I made my Hungarian connection only because that plane was delayed at takeoff. First I thought I saw a homeless guy, squeegee in hand, squirting Windex cleaner on the co-pilots portion of the windscreen... however it seems that some dork or dorkettes luggage was deeply ensconced in the belly of the bird, yet the owners of said luggage were MIA! In these post 9-11 days... you do not leave the gate until the owners show up or the luggage is removed. In this particular case, we sat on the ramp while the hold was opened, the tagged luggage retrieved and tossed unceremoniously, onto the tar mac, where the luggage handlers ran over it accidentally. They must have been having transmission problems, because they ran over it 7 times... 4 times forwards and 3 back!
















Reminds me of my long flight last year departing from Calgary. We had been pushed back from the T line only to have to get towed back in while the cargo boot was cracked open, because sam other nameless fool stowed their medications in their checked baggage, only to realize at the last possible second before lift off, that perhaps they should take their required in flight dosage... while in flight!!!
















Duh!!! Ya gotta wonder what the meds were for... TBF?* Perhaps.
















Anyway, after a smooth 12 hours of flying we literally crash landed on the tarmac in Budapest's Ferihegy 2 airport. No idea, wind shear? spare tire change, I dont know... but I can tell you this, thats the roughest landing I've had since Dino flew Lantie, Rock and I into Cutbank MT a few (many) years back during a gale, flying a Cessna. We bounced (well maybe 1 step beyond 'bounce') onto the deck and the A320 did a pretty good imitation of a Texas 2 step, which is nearly as dangerous as as if you were actually in Texas 2 stepping with some else's wife... unbeknownst to you! The young girl sitting next to me stared wide eyed out the window to my right, as the plane shuddered and protested like Levar Burton at a KKK convention.
















I had my luggage in no time, finally getting smart since my last trip, having tied orange racing tape to my suitcase handles to identify them from the hundred other identical bags. I once ended up with several size 44DD brassieres and a dress that didnt flatter me (much) after grabbing the wrong bag at Pearson.
















Berti greeted me with a grin, kisses on the cheek as is the custom, and a handshake and then we had a hard time finding the little silver VW Polo in the lot. Once we'd located the car, we couldn't quite find the exit from the airport. Luckily we had some snacks in the glove box and by dawn, there was enough light to see our way out.
















The next day he'd delivered me and my very stylish orange handled luggage to metro Jaszkiser, to his Moms place. Erzsike (Elizabeth) my cousin was sooo happy to see me, she immediately set me to work fixing a few things around the house. Now don't get me wrong here, I am by my very nature a 'fixer' of things. Ask any of my friends, and I relish the thought of making something derilect work. I've had lots of practice, anyone who knows how my love life has gone will attest to that!
















I retrieved Piroska the next day and set about polishing, changing oil and filter,a few missing nuts and bolts, some instrument bulbs ("But officer... I couldnt see how fast I was riding tonight") Once road ready, we did a couple of little jaunts together (hard to go separately in any case) to iron out the winters kinks in us both. I dare say, I needed more ironing or is that irony? No matter, this week we should have some fresh new skins for her and sometime next week we should be ready to head out on the highway once again.
















Ze Plan, and I do use this term incredibly loosely, is to ride over that way (picture Frank waving his arm here) somewhere in the general direction of Trieste, Italia and then onto Venice. From there I "plan" on riding down the Adriatic coast and then intersecting the boot at some point to the Med.
















Corsica, if time permits, then on to southern France along the French Riviera, where I will hang topless, with Saskia for a few days. (well I'll be topless I don't know about Saskia) I once got slapped for asking a date to go for a ride in my MGB topless. She obviously didn't know anything about English sports cars. I am sure this Hungarian CDN and that Dutch /CDN catgirl transplanted to the south of France, will find a bottle of imported (CDN) vino and catch up on her life on the Continent in great detail.
















Spain next across the southern Pyrenees and the Costa del Sol and again time permitting, Atlantic Portugal, northern Spain, The Biscanye coast to Normandy where I want to check out the WW2 sites and sights, before turning inland to Paree! From here I will wind my way home to Hungary thru either Germany or Switzerland or both... I have about 1 month to do this. Seems like lots but is it really?
















Well that's it for now, I am trying this BLOG, see how it fares.
















WISH I WERE SKIPPING... :) I LOVE SKIPPING !
















From the European hub/beehive of activity... Jaszkiser... chumi chumi. Frank.
















*TBF Temporary Brain Fade