I will post each day as a separate post. Nothing but coloureds hanging around and going in and out. Work and darkies don't go together. After that I hit the pan belt. Looking for darkies where there are no people to steal from or food to fall on your head is like looking for jews where there is no money or leeches where there is no host. By the time I get to prieska I am mostly dry. Not some weak sister or woman in a carriage Due to the rain the cages have really buggered up this road.
There is no cell phone reception either. Every time you try overtake you can see nothing and get another wave of water. Hopefully ruin their faggot hair. As a i said, no trees to sleep under and nothing to steal. Blechschmidt and I were then entrained two days later and the rail transport carried us through Hungary and Bulgaria to Rumania.
I order a nice large steak and devour it. Description Heinz Eisner foreground and Rudi Blechsmidt give their Zündapp motorcycle-combination a fresh coat of paint. We nodded, wished each other a safe ride, and each went our way. I love my big tall enduro bikes on sterioids. How the hell can a white man live free in the crowded places of europe and america. After 100 km I have come through this.
You ant to go faster to fly over the corrugation but cant. Despite the grey skies the road going up is stunning. There is a family there wanting to go where I want to go but the farmers advise against using that road after rain as it is very slippery. He said if he said if he had a bike like mine he would do dirt. I cannot use brakes as the bike immediately slides out underneath me.
The family decides to detour by tar, and the farmers tell me to come for breakfast tomorrow and we will decide according to the weather. Today is largely tar but i cant stomach motorways like the cagers and harley and cruiser crowd. I did stop and see mates along the wayy Thought you would like to see the pics. Almost no darkies where i went. In Brăila a German ship was moored which was to transport a cement factory to Turkey.
The locals were very friendly. My mate gives a flat to myself. I stop and weigh it up. The rain and the water crossing will soak me again My one set of jeans are now a soggy mess as well My room looks like a tornado hit it, with wet and drying clothes strewn everywhere. No weather and no woman can get me off bikes. The distance yesterday I agree with the farmers that I will ride 10 km into the desert, until reception starts to fade, and if it is bad I will turn back. That is the problem of being a white man in Africa.
Day 2 I wake up to a beautiful cloudless desert day. In closing thank you once again for taking the time to view this listing. But I hope to never sink to such depths. Why would you want pics of darkies. So I can only stop where there is hard ground. Living like a Free White Man, the kameraderie of bikers of all races everywhere, with the sun in my face, the rain, the heat, sand and mud, no crowds and at the mercy of God's will is non-negotiable. First thing on the agenda is change into dry clothes and go into own and find a bottle store for booze.
They looked like fat farks as well so maybe their fat rolls cant take the virbrations going any faster. I havent been there in like 20 years since I came to play a rugby match here. They give me a rondavel and I have dinner with them Day 5 I leave my friends farm at 0630 in mist heading to Eight Bells Traffic conditions are bad. I say a prayer for God to look after me tomorrow as the next stretch is over 160 km of very slippery dirt, and almost no people live there. Not one of those weekend warriors. I was only 30 kmh over the limit It is absolutely stunning and empty out here, except the wind can really mess up your hair Cagers in the distance so i am finally approaching tar again. The road is soft and it looks like clouds are closing, but I figure I will rely on experience on bikes, and stay on the stony bits in the middle and off soft edges.