It was 4:00 AM and it would be the last time that I close the old massive wooden door behind me. The tiny house, I called my home for three years was more than 500 years old and had probably seen many people coming and going. I was sure, I was the first one leaving on a motorbike trip, but I assumed that the house cared very little. I loved the place where I stayed. I loved the little village and I loved Malta but sometimes, it's time to go.
I had been dreaming about the trip that is now tangibly lying in front of me since I read Ted Simon's book Jupiter's Travel. I wanted to be like him. A nomad. An Adventurer. An Explorer. Detached from everything. Just sitting on a bike and discovering the world. I had prepared for this for a long time already and still was totally unprepared when it finally happened. My employer and I split ways a little earlier than I had planned, but then again, my heart was not with that job anymore for a while anyway, and they knew that. My desire was to be a lonesome cowboy riding into the sunset, but still, when it finally happened I had a million of things to prepare and severe decisions to make. Most importantly: Which bike will I take? What kind of luggage will I order and: Where the hell will I go?
"I felt like a big rock sitting on my chest when I turned around for the last time whilst riding down the short ramp that led to the alley where I used to live.
Bye bye, little lovely Malta. Good morning big and beautiful world!"
It was August when I was out of a sudden free from all commitments and a beautiful time to be on the Island and in the Mediterranean, so for choosing the right bike there was an easy solution: A test ride around the Adriatic would help, be fun and tell me if my choice was a good one. However, for the question, of which way to travel on the big trip, more factors had to be considered. I knew I would have a hard time reaching the Himalayas before Winter and the route getting there would be challenging too. I do hate the cold and I wanted my tour to be fun. So traveling east, crossing the "Stan-Countries" or Iran seemed to promise to be a very uncosy experience. I had to choose a different route that would take me to the warmer side of the planet first and that would be the southern hemisphere during the European Winter. Africa would have been a rough start considering my little knowledge about the continent, but Latin America is a place that is more familiar to me. I had done various trips there, also on the motorbike, and always loved it. So embarking from Europe to Argentina first to then to discover the far south of Patagonia seemed to be the right plan. A friend of mine, who is working for a big freight forwarding company even offered to ship the bike free of charge. In my world now that meant that all the stars started to align so that I confirmed my booking for a departure from Genoa later in September.
Choosing my bike was in reality more a question of heart, than a result of practical considerations. I have been a Royal Enfield lover for a while. I just adore the classic appearance of these bikes and their technical simplicity. Even a mediocre self-made mechanic like me can more or less keep such a bike alive for a while and would not be overwhelmed when something needs care or attention on the route. Nevertheless, there is an old saying about the older Royal Enfield's and that puts that same simplicity at question: "Easy to fix, but easy to break" means that the reliability of competing brands might be better and could make my life easier. As long as there is a skilled mechanic in reach, should things against all odds go south of course, and I didn't want to trust in that. The Royal Enfield Classic 500 it would be, and coincidentally I had just acquired one a few months earlier, which had an acceptable millage on the clock and was maintained perfectly by the previous owner. He mainly kept it in his living room and in my view the bike was just screaming to be taken for a long ride.
I decided to make a few adjustments to increase comfort and safety on the trip. Super important for me was a new saddle. I would spend many hours in it and I wanted it to be as comfortable as possible. A full leather chief saddle was the only possible choice in my view. These kinds of saddles are not common these days anymore but their big surface is made of leather and their big springs make them as cosy as an old Chesterfield sofa. I also protected my engine a bit more by adding a sump guard and crash bars. The most difficult issue to solve was the luggage carrier since the average traveler normally gets away with some weekend luggage, the standard version can only carry about 8kgs. This would obviously not be enough and thus I had to start exploring alternatives. On social media, I found a more seasoned Classic 500 traveler who recommended looking into using the under-construction of the pillion seat as a basis to hold my panniers and duffle bag. This idea turned out to be really great. What was meant to carry the weight of a person, should be strong enough to carry my luggage. With the help of a Maltese Motorbike mechanic, I started to design a more suitable luggage carrier and ended up with a really strong piece of metal that certainly would be strong enough to carry 80kgs or more. Finally, I still changed the tires to strong multi-surface ones and added a windscreen to the bike. Even though I don't like the aesthetics of it, it still does a great job when protecting me from the elements when I need it.
The last and final purchase for the bike was my luggage. I had decided for some Enduristan Panniers and a duffle bag, which seemed to be great in quality, watertight, and somehow matching the retro look of the bike, and exactly those bags I now loaded with my belongings. I had learned that travelers who are just starting have a tendency to overpack and certainly I was no exception to the rule. It took me a while to organize myself and to find a good spot for tools and spare parts, clothes and camping gear, books and teapots, some emergency kit, and other things as some dear souvenirs that should protect me from bad eyes, bad luck or all other kinds of evil that one may be expected on the road and that I got from dear friends or good business people in preparation for the next 50.000km in front of me. I knew this would be the adventure of a lifetime and my heartbeat increased when I dropped my key in the mailbox. It was still dark when I started to head to the ferry. Sunrise was only in 2 hours from now and I would only see it from the ship. I felt like a big rock sitting on my chest when I turned around for the last time whilst riding down the short ramp that led to the alley where I used to live.
Bye bye, little lovely Malta. Good morning big and beautiful world!