Jazz Ridez The Globe
The Adventure
continues
Europe 2006
OK folks, November 1st came and
went and I had locked and loaded my stuff and headed south for the winter. JoJo’s place was next on the agenda. I got
out on the autobahn and was blasting south on the 115, everything was just fine until I ran into a traffic jam 3 hours down
the highway. I’m in the middle lane of the 3 lanes going my way and stopped for the jam up. That’s when the engine
stopped running. What the fuck is going on now. For the next 45 minutes I’m out in front of the Rig with the jumper
cables hooked up and ready to go and begging for a jump start when that didn’t work I with tow strap in hand tried to
get anybody to pull me off the travel lanes and onto the shoulder of the highway. These fuckin’ Germans are so fucked
up nobody would do the deed.
The cops show up and ask for my papers. After passing the test of proper paperwork they
did help me by asking a truck driver to give it a try, to pull me off the road. Here’s the short story of that. My strap
broke the first time and I tied the 2 pieces together and we tried it again. It broke again. The cops had a round nylon rope
and I hooked it up and the truck pulled me off the road. Finally I’m outa the way of the traffic I was blocking. Now
I had to get started so I can drive off the autobahn. I got the jumper cables out and hooked up the 2 pairs I had to make
a lone , 20’ run. Well that didn’t work as the Germans were still fucked up and nobody would stop and give me
a jump. The cops were still there and alerted me that I had to move the Rig. I was informed about 25 minutes later that they
called a wrecker and I had to sign a paper that allowed the cops to call the wrecker and relieves the responsibility off them.
The wrecker was there fast and hooked me up and towed me off the autobahn. 300 euros later I was parked, where the wrecker
dropped me, at a truck stop and close to a power box. I connected the drop cord and transformer to the Rig and was on full
power. The battery chargers were working fine. I slept under my electric blanket and in the morning I fired up the Rig but
was not ready to go. I still needed to fix the hose that had burned off the AIR system on the engine. I went back to the wrecker
company and got a piece hose, with a clamp, and installed it on the Rig. I tried calling JoJo and got no answer.
In the coffee shop I meet a fat chick that spoke pretty good English so I talked with
her for a while. I needed gas and after trying the ATM at the station the manager had to take me to the next town to the Deutsche
Bank to get money to pay for the gas I already pumped into the Rig. I got an extra 100. Didn’t really need it but it’s
nice to have cash in pocket. I continued with the fat chick to see if she wanted to check out the Rig and she agreed to go
with me. Now here’s a girl, not bad looking about 100 lbs over weight with no money and no job hanging out at a truck
stop. I thought she was a hooker. In the motorhome, the Rig, I explained that I didn’t want to hurt her feelings and
asked her if she wanted to give me a blow job for 20 euros. She didn’t understand the term blowjob so I explained it
to her that it was the act of putting my dick in her mouth for a little while. Then she understood and said she wasn’t
that kind of girl. I told her I was sorry about the whole incident and we said our goodbyes and she was gone and I started
the Rig and was again on my way south.
The route I was taking took me the short way to Bad Neustadt which was up and over a
mountain. Just happened to be snowing up there. No problem and on the other side was JoJo’s place. He had just left the day before on a trip to Malaga, Spain. Because I had the short breakdown I
missed him. Petra and the girls were also gone for the weekend so there was no reason for me to hang around so I launched
outa there. By then it was 5pm and I needed to find a place to park for the night and charge batteries. Well I found a place
at a shell station without the power I needed. I slept that night and in the morning the batteries were dead. The closet power
was about 150 feet away. I then took the batteries outa the Rig and got them charged. 3 batteries and one charger. While I’m
taking care of this shit a car pulls up next to the Rig and the 2 guys that got out showed me their ID’s and said they
were German police and “Your papers Please” came next. They got back into their car and I could see that the passenger
cop was on a laptop computer. About 4 minutes later they got out handed me my papers back and said thank you.
It took about 3 hours and a few tries but I got the Rig running and charging properly
as I headed to Wurzberg. Past thru it and in a couple hours later I would be in Schaffhausen. First I needed gas again. I
stopped at a rest/ fuel stop and tried the ATM. It didn’t work so I asked where a Deutsche Bank was. After getting the
directions I headed there.
Double Parked in a small town I walked about a 1/4 mile to the bank got 1000 euros and
walked back to the Rig. Found a station with 1.15e a liter gas and put 300 in the tank.
I was on the way again and the next problem was the upcoming Swiss border crossing just a hundred yards away. 6 border
guards checked out the Rig, I went inside with a cop and paid the 30 euros to get in to Switzerland and I was 10 minutes from
Scholi’s place.
I parked as close to Scholi’s place as I could and walked the 200 feet to his
building. He answered the door and ya shoulda seen his face when he realized it was me. He was expecting me in another week.
Since JoJo wasn’t there to entertain me I cut that portion of the show and knocked on Scholi’s door instead.
We talked over old times and the new plans but mostly it was ridin’ the elevator
and drinkin’ a beer or two. In the morning as it was Saturday sleep was late for everyone in town but me. I was up and
ready to get busy but this is Swissland. In the afternoon I fired up the Rig and moved it to Fred’s place. I got hooked
up with power and had to worry about water later. For the next 2 weeks I would hibernate here and look forward to getting’
south where it’s warm.
2 weeks goes by pretty fast and before I knew it it was time to go south. So on the
17th at 1pm I was locked and loaded and ready to launch. Oensingen was the next stop and Scholi told me there was
plenty of parking where I was going. A Federation meeting of the minds of the major clubs in Europe. I was gonna drive down
in the daylight hours and meet up with him there later that night. Everything went as planed and I got there 5 hours before
he did but only after the cops razzed me for about 40 minutes about my license plate being mounted where it was and where
it should be so the cops can see it. I fixed that small problem and was headed on my way.
The party was up on a hill with a narrow driveway I can’t get up so the business
parking area down below will do just fine. I had to move the Rig and in doing so I clipped a large piece of granite acting
as a barrier with my right side drive axle outside wheel and bent the rim and the tire went flat. GREAT. Now I hav’ta
fix that fuckup. I can worry about that in the morning because drinkin’ and ridin’ the elevator is on the menu.
It was cold rainy and down right not the place for me to be. A lot of bikers from all over Europe, some even spoke English,
were there and a good time was had by all. Except me. I was on a Journey and had a flat tire and bent rim to deal with. It
was early to bed for me at 2am and the mornin’ was on it’s way fast.
Saturday morning and the tire shop right where I needed it was open and ready to handle
my problem first thing. The lug nut ½ inch air ratchet gun they had was just barely strong enough to loosen the lug nuts on
the bad wheel. I put the spare tire on and the bent rim in the spare tire slot at the back of the motorhome. I was ready for
the road again in 2 hours. I gave the guys 20 e for their trouble and went on about my business. As it turns out I didn’t
hav’ta move the motorhome over to where I did that damage and did in fact move it to a place and was set up for another
night as Scholi told me there was gonna be another night of party at the same place. Well guess what Hans never did come by
on Saturday and there wasn’t another party. But I stayed that night anyway because I don’t like driving after
dark. Electrical problems and all on the motorhome. In the morning was a different thing I was ready for southbound travel.
So that’s what I did. Headed south.
Everything was fine the Rig was just rollin’
alone and no problems and I get to the Border of Swissland and France. It’s right up there a couple miles when I hear
a loud boom. I stop the Rig and see I had a blow out on the inside left rear drive axle tire. GREAT. I analyzed the problem
and drove on to the next exit and into the town of St Julien. I needed a tire shop and I mean a truck tire repair shop Now.
Sunday afternoon. Yea, like I’m gonna win the 200 billion dollar lottery too. I unloaded the bike and gave the town
the twice over and saw nothing more than a Roady Auto Parts store with service bays. Over the next 30 hours I was everywhere
I could be in that area trying to find what I needed. Couldn’t find it so I used what was available. Road mechanics
and their little ½ inch gun. Wouldn’t work. Lug nuts were on too tight. I had to do something else. I had been to many
places to find the answers I needed and went back to one of them in a town about 5 klix away. That’s where the real
guys came out to help me. But I need to back track alittle.
Backtrack starts here….While I was having the Roady guys try their luck
on the lug nuts a truck pulled in to the business parking lot and the driver and girlfriend introduced themselves and pointed
out their Rig. An old Mercedes panel truck just plain white on the exterior and the insides was done up real homely. The guy
had everything he/ they needed. I will wait for them to contact me and I’ll get some pictures from him of his Rig. This
is one of the first free living Europeans I’ve met. Completely different from everybody else. Not a biker but just as
free as if he was a TRUE 1 %’er. While I was reminiscing about the time I spent with them I remembered their names.
Julian and Rose. With a dog that they let walk all over them. No offense. They helped me out more than most woulda. Drove
me to the town about 20 klix away for info that did no good at all. Got groceries at a super discount store. Rode the elevator,
and that reminds me I need to so if you’ll excuse me for a few minutes………24 minutes and 7 tokes later
So to top off the last paragraph, Thanks one Hell of a lot Julian and Rose of
the St Julien, France area. I hope very much to run into you again. Southbound from St. Julien was a short trip about 20 miles
and it was time for me to stop. The sun had set and I don’t like running after dark. On the side of the road I stay
again.
In the morning it was the same thing over again or was it? The bridge crossing on the
route I was taking was just ahead about a mile. I know it’s too narrow for me to make it in the southbound lane but
the northbound lane is much wider. So like water I followed the most natural trail. I broke the Law. Further on south I ran
into a construction zone that I had to “thread the needle” thru but did it in style. All the workers stopped what
they were doing to watch me drive thru. It was as if they witnessed me inventing the wheel. Don’t forget the threading
the needle part, I did my share of showing off my skill in driving the largest motorhome on the continent. They will no dought
be talking about the Big Rig that drove thru the bla, bla, bla for years to come.
Backtrack ends here.
The exasperation and obstacles I encounter in my travels are almost too much. People
that have a history of doing a job a certain way, when confronted with a new challenge, try to solve the problem in the old
style and sometimes it just don’t work. Here I am in a bus maintenance building with 2 mechanics that have done this
many times before but had trouble with my problem. Shit-Howdy and Shit-Happens. To start with one of the guys had just broken
the adapter I needed him to use and then there were the inner wheel studs that I still can’t figure out. They had the
hot wrench blowing fire on the holes to loosen the rust and separate the god dam thing anyway. That didn’t work and
slammin’ it with the 10 lb sledge hammer didn’t work so finally they put the tire on the rim while the rim was
on the motorhome. I really didn’t know you could do that. Until now. Now that that was done I needed the tire on the
right side pumped back up as it had broken the bead and was also flat. Did I mention I drove the motorhome here from 6 miles
away. On 2 flat tires on the drive axle. I had left the bike somewhere where it was safe. After 3 hours and a lot of work
on all our sides I was back in the saddle again. The guys were done cleaning up and I shook their hands and offered them money
and like good sports they wouldn’t take it. Yahooooo. Every savings is a blessing for the fuel tank. Thanks guys. I
got the Rig fired up and headed back to the grocery store where I had been for 2 dayz but didn’t park in the same place
as I was before. I parked at the car wash about 150 yards from my original spot. The couple I had met showed up about 2 hours
later and we talked for a few minutes. Then I informed them it was time for me to go, in about an hour. Sure enough, I realized
that I didn’t need to hang out there for an hour and 30 minutes later I was headed outa the parkin’ lot.
The couple times I rode the Rig on the pay highway it cost too much and I’d really
rather slow down. I have plenty of time and I need to stretch this trip out to average out the expense. Thus I drove the National
highway and went thru every little nook and cranny that could be found. Needless to say that in 5 hours of navigating the
roads in the motorhome I was only 126 miles from where I started. Hell yes I was happy and spent the night in Orange France.
In the grocery store parking lot of course. I actually walked about 1 ½ miles up the main road thru town and back. Nothing
else to do. In the morning it was already locked and loaded so I launched.
A few hours down the road and all was fine and dandy when I got to Sete. Almost at the
city limit sign I hear a loud bang or Boom if you’d rather me use that term. And stopped the Rig to investigate. Sur’nuf
another blowout on the inside right drive axle. Son of a Fuckin’ Bitch. What’s gonna be next? The motor blows
up? So naturally I’m in a situation where I can’t just stop so I drive on. A giant parking lot will do and sur’nuf
there it is. I stop and analyze the situation and decide to drive to the next town. Agde, France. I get to the Center of the
village and found a place to park for a few minutes. With in walking distance of 3 tire shops. You guessed it none could do
the job as they were set up for car tires. I continued to survey the area by walking around the industrial zone and found
a shop that quoted me 327e for a tire. I drive the Rig so he can see the situation and I paid him 200e deposit on a tire to
be delivered Tuesday. Today is Friday. Or was it Thursday. Shit let me check my trip log. Ok it was Friday the 24th
of November. Now I needed a place to park for a few dayz to get this fixed. The business
next to the tire shop, that can do the job, has a parking lot the size of Texas and after talking with the cunt owner
of the business, an exercise/ aerobics rip off joint, I decided to go drive
to a place that was a possibility. The bike was still on the platform and heavy as hell for the Rig with 2 flat tires. I drove
about 12 miles and couldn’t find the right place. I headed back thru town to a place I knew for sure was alright. Just
as I get to the most congested area of this village traffic light and everything, the outside tire on the side, right side,
that already has a flat blows out. And I mean loud. The neighbors came out of the woodwork to see what the hell blew up. Well,
folks, It’s only a $500 tire. So I stop and get out to see ‘what the fuck’ and sur’nuf I’m in
a terrible situation now. 2 good tires on one side and 2 flat tires on the other. In the center of town with a hundred people
watchin’ and traffic backin’ up. I get in the Rig and drive on for about 100 feet and in the rear view mirror
I see the tire from the outside flat come off the rim and is now laying on the sidewalk. I stop the motorhome again and go
back to get the tire which weighs about 100 lbs throw it up between the bike and the back of the Rig, get back in the Rig
and drive thru town with the outside rim now scratching the asphalt as I maneuver thru town.
With the Rig now stopped at a place that I should go straight to follow the traffic
flow or turn left go against the flow of traffic for 300 feet to get to where I need to get to. No question about it, I go
against the flow of traffic and within 5 minutes I get parked next to the river in the high class part of low life town.
I’m good for a couple dayz and now it’s time for Ridin’ the Elevator.
It’s still early so ridin’ the bike is in store too. After miles of the city and it’s getting’ late
I realize I need a second tire and low gear is where the rubber meets the road. I need to get over to the tire shop and have
him order a 2nd tire. No problem with that. He gets the people on the phone and has a 2nd tire on the
way. I’m thinkin’ 317e twice. That’s like 634e . I can deal with that as another shop quoted me 770e for
2 tires. Hanging around for a couple dayz never killed me before. I can do that spinning on my head.
Agde is the cutest little village I’ve had the pleasure of ‘having to’
hang out in or near. I walked the streets and spent the smallest amount of money I could. Groceries and cigarettes. It’s
incredible to me that cars actually drive the streets I’m walking on . Some are not wide enough for 4 people to walk
shoulder to shoulder on yet cars are wizzin’ by like there’s no tomorrow. Parked on steep inclines and back in
corners away from ‘in the way’ of other traffic. There are so many single and double wide doorwayz that open to
courtyards and cars parked. Automatic gates and doors, walls 10 feet high and cameras at all the high class flats. Unique
in style and design to the point that no 2 are the same. Brick work, tile, concrete and stone make this place look like Dizzyland,
only for real. Not the plastic that comes from Disneyland. All the buildings are like 3,4,5 and 6 stories tall and on the
ground floor are the small shops that have the stuff nobody needs with a high price to go with it. The motor scooters that the kids ride are way too much for the average human to have to put up with. I
think they should pass a law that you can shoot them on sight if you can hear them. Period. I hate those fuckers buzzzzzzzzzzin’
around at all hours of the day and night. And I mean loud fuckers too. Shoot’em all. Don’t answer no questions
later.
Monday finally got here but only after I spent many hours trying to figure out the actual
process of the up coming event. Me moving the Rig from where it is to the tire shop 3 klix away with 2 flats on one side.
Fuck that. I got the tools out and took the lug nuts on the 2 flat side off and got the rim on the bike and rode it to the
tire shop. The shop owner doesn’t speak any English but I could figure out what he was saying. I look at the lot next
door and if that cunt hole bitch woulda let me move to a spot that I wouldn’t have interfered with her business parking
I wouldn’t be in this situation. I would only need one tire. The additional weight on the single tire blew it out. Oh
Well. I rode back to the Rig. Tuesday was here and I was ready for 2 tires. Waiting until 10am so as to let everyone get into
the grind I rode the bike to the shop. Yahooooooo the one tire is on the rim and ready to go. I throw it on the bike and slowly
ride to the Rig and put the new tire and rim on the Rig fire it up and drive to the shop. After a 25 minute walk I was on
the bike and headed back to the Rig parked about 200 yards from the tire shop. At the proper time I was instructed to back
the Rig into the yard of the shop. Here we go with the ‘Threading the Needle”. I needed the tires rotated somewhat
to equalize the new and old tires.
After 2 hours I was set up and then had to get the Rig outa there. Again many of the
local workers watched as I perform a miracle. I reparked the Rig 200 feet away and there I would spend the night and was close
and ready for the second tire to be delivered in the morning. When I reparked the Rig I needed to level the monster. There’s
a process for doing this and that includes starting the engine connecting the jumper cables then make sure the alternator
is make juice then level the Rig. I forgot to connect the cables and in the short time it took to level the Rig it ran the
batteries down so now I needed a jump start. I fired up the bike plugged in the emergency jumpers I have for charging batteries
and let it di it’s job for 10 minutes. That didn’t work but in the meantime a couple guys from another shop came
out to see what all the noise was about. After talking to them in broken English they left and I still needed a jump. After
walking down to the tire shop and seeing he was gone I stopped at the party that the guys came from and asked if anybody there
could help me out. Sur’nuf one of the guys there came down a few minutes later and I connected my cables to his car
battery and got started. It’s one thing after another folks. The question is what’s next.
It was Wednesday morning and I was pumped. I’d have to wait until the tire got
here tho. At about 4pm I stopped by the shop and the 2nd tire was there and ready to be installed. I knew it could
only go on while the rim was on the Rig. First I had to put the Rig into the shop yard. Here we go with the ‘Threading
the Needle” again. I mean this was a tight fit too. All the workers from the adjacent business’ were out to watch
the action. In and, when the fix was done, out again. I performed like as star. With little or no damage to the Rig. OK. But
while the Rig is in the yard and the inside tire needs to be installed the shop owner, that has done this hundreds of times,
doesn’t realize he’s gonna have to put the tire on while the rim is on the Rig. It was the first time he had done
it this way too. Long story to go with this part. I’ll shorten it to say I got it done. The Rig now has 2 new tires
on the drive axle and I have no spare. Yet. With the Rig set to go I unthread the Rig from the tire shop yard again as the
locals watch and park for the night so I can launch in the mornin’.
Ya’no there’s been times on this trip and all adventures that I wouldn’t
wish this kinda fun on anybody but me. I don’t think many humans of any description could do what I have to do to get
by. They would be on the phone to AAA or in Europe ADAC or the suicide prevention center. It’s a sure way to create
an alcoholic where there was a tea toddler. I have about 5 bottles of booze and many times I thought about just Fuck It and
Get Drunk. I’m not an Idiot. I get shit fixed then Fuck It and Get Stoned. Usually while I drivin’ southbound. It’s great therapy too. Get in my way and I’ll run yer ass over right
now.
Thursday mornin’ and I’m loaded and ready to go. Bikes tight on the back
and I need gas before I leave town. I had already ridden the route I would take to, into and outa the gas station. No problem
here and go it done. For .969 e per liter I filled up and headed outa Agde headed for Girona, Spain. Because I had to wait
a couple extra dayz in Agde I had to bypass Girona and I went on south to Malgrat de Mar. 40 miles north of Barcelona. A biker
friendly bar I stopped at 5 years ago on one of my many runs to find something. You can read about Corre Caminos Bar in my
other book. jazzrideztheglobe.tripod.com
I got here at about 5:30 and the sun was on its way outa the western sky. Headed for
darkness in about 30 minutes. After going into the bar and introducing myself to the folks I got permission to park in the
lot in front. I needed money now and this was the place to try my luck in getting someone to let me use their bank account
to get some dollars wire transferred from Florida to here so I can continue south. That tire deal in Agde turned out to cost
780e. Not twice the 317e. The second tire was 463e. I did most of the work too. Fuck every time I turn around I’m getting’
screwed by somebody. Those tires woulda cost about $600.00 in the USA and here they were just about $1100.00 USD.
Friday I rode into Barcelona and checked on the price for the Rig to ride the ferry to Majorca for a couple
weeks but it woulda cost 75e per meter. 1050e for the Rig and me. Then that much again from Palma to Valencia. Fuck that.
I’ll just continue on down the coast highway till I get to where I’m going. Until then I’m at Corre Caminos
Bar and stuck here till Monday when the bank opens after a 5 day ‘closed period’ party. I opened an account and
made all the arrangements for the money to be transferred on Friday but everything is closed for the next 5 dayz. Fuck.
The first 3 nights at Corre Caminos Bar was without electricity and I felt I was causing
a problem. Ya’no staying there past the time I said I would be there. Well everything is workin’ out and I asked
for a power hook up and he plugged me in and that’s the only reason I typed this portion of the program into existence.
I woulda done it later but it got done sooner than later.
The gang at Corre Caminos Bar is the best I’ve run into in awhile. But then again
all the people I run into are great cuz they are bikers and they understand what most people don’t. Brotherhood. In
the USA it’s not like this. Europeans bikers are a different kind of biker. I speak strictly of the Harley Davidson
rider types. Of course. Those Jap slaps can go straight to Jap slap hell. With a few exceptions. Over the months that I’ve
been riding in Europe I’ve had the occasion to communicate with a few of them and they suck. I realized real quick that
they don’t care about anything except how playful they can be when riding a Jap slap. You’ve seen’em, rear
wheel wheel stands and wheelies at 469 miles and hour in 7th gear. Laying over till their ears are scrapping the
asphalt in the hair pin turns at 294 miles an hour. Don’t forget how sharp they look in their leathers and matching
helmets. You can always tell how cool they are by the helmet they carry around after parking the bike, nose in, away from
where they are going, after locking the steering and set the alarm. Enough about ‘them’. There are the biker types
that ride those Jap slaps because that’s the only bike they can afford. I only wish I could win the lottery cuz if I
did I’d buy those Jap slap riders the bike they really want and should be riding. I feel very fortunate to have made
these new friends at the new, since I was here last, Corre Caminos Bar in Malgrat de Mar, Spain. I have determined that riding
the coast is a fruitless endeavor as the season is over and 99% of this area business’s are shut down, boarded up and
looks like a ghost towns everywhere I ride.
The sun rose in the east with the barest minimum of clouds this morning, being Sunday
December 10th. I’ve looked at the map a number of times and have decided to not ride the mountains
north, west and south of here. The reason is to conserve the money I have for the fuel tank on the Rig. I can always come
back and check it out. Besides it leaves somewhere that I haven’t seen. Shit Howdy and Shit Happens, bikes are going
by my location northbound by groups of 5’s and 10’s and it is about 10am so I think I’ll ride north and
see where everyone ridin’ to.
I needed money and the major problem was where to have it sent. If I make arrangements
for it to be sent here I will have to stay around here for about a week. After talking to some people about wire transfers
to their accounts I realized it would be easier to open an account and have it wired to me directly. Found a bake and opened
the account with no money. About a week later I had money and it felt sooooooo good.
Like all good things, they have to come to an and. I locked and loaded all my shit and
was ready to launch from Corre Camino’s Bar. This adventure has to continue. It was time to go after all I had been
there 12 dayz. I took off outa the parking lot at 10:45 and was on the roads to Tarragona. It took 5 hours to travel 130 miles
but I made it to the port area and found a place at the security gate for the Repsol gasoline distributor. A couple dayz here
will be OK.
Tarragona is the town where the Spaniards stand on each others shoulders and build a
tower. There have a bronze monument to attest to that fact. You can see the pictures here to.
Other than that the city was fast and unfriendly. I tried to get the tire distributor to order me a couple more tires
and he told me he didn’t deal with those tires. Even tho he could have ordered them. The local security guys came around
and asked me what the plane was and I told him/ them I would be leaving in the morning. That’s exactly what the fuck
I did too. I got the hell outa there.
On the way south to Castello I ran into some extra size humps in the road and had to stop and check out the platform. Sur’nuf the frame was broke and breaking more
as I went so I figured that I better get this fixed double quick. Castello was the next town and only 12 klix away. Right
near the exit ramp is a welding shop and a car wash next door for parking the Rig for a couple dayz.
I got lucky and the Rig was fixed and back ready to run down the road before dark but
I decided to hang around for another night. Stayed home and conserved energy. In the morning I was more than ready to launch.
3pm was the time. There’s a BP station just a 100 yards from camp so I filled up as I pulled outa the car wash camp
zone.
Without any trouble I made it to Valencia. I parked right smack dab on the M. Sea front
where everyone walks so needless to say I made more heads turn as they looked at the Rig as they walked by. The second night
I stayed I had moved to a public parking lot near the port center. This is a good spot. Across the street was a massive hotel
and the main street that runs along the coastal resort area. Well, at night is was also the main drag for picking up hookers.
The parking lot I was staying in was the trick lot. I watched for hours as cars would pull-up to the different girls they
would in turn walk over to the car, bend over to talk thru the window then get in the passenger door and drive off soon to
show up in the parking lot where I was parked. So not 40 feet away I watch as the pair get out of the front seats and get
in the back. The parking lot lights didn’t slow any of them down and it was great for me. It was like watching a live
fuck video from 40 feet away. She would start by giving the guy some head and progress to her taking her pants off and him
squirming around in the back seat of these foreign cars for the fuck position. It was also like watching the 3 Stooges. In
about 6 minutes the doors would open the guy would use a napkin or paper towel and out fly’s the condom and the tissue
unto the ground. You should be thinking about the dozens of tricks and the dozens of condoms and tissues in the parking lot.
It was a mess. As is all of Spain.
Alfaz was next and I actually met some Harley riders as I was driving thru town. Narrow
winding major highway goes right thru town with thread the needle precision that everybody,
trucks, busses and cars, make it thru without and trouble. M and M Cycles was on the right hand side as I drove past. I made
a hasty slam on the brakes for a right turn at the round a bout maneuver and parked across the street from the shop.
I met the owners of M and M Cycles, Mario and Marko and found them to be a couple of
the nicest Germans livin’ in Spain running a Harley repair and parts business that I’d ever met. Real wood floor
and not a speck of Spit and Polished Chrome and Glass like ya see in them fancy dealership situations. The parts and stuff
are upstairs and the lifts for the repair end of the business are where ya walk into the shop. They had a lot going on in
there for such a small shop. Mario told me he has’ta make every square centimeter count cuz there ain’t no more
room.
He also told me about the city center that ahs a vacant lot where caravans have been
known to park overnight. I bid my farewells and made the round a bout again and headed for Happy Trails Campground.
Yea, this is perfect, well almost, if there was electricity it would be Ultimate Perfect.
It didn’t have electricity but it was right downtown. Everybody could see the Rig as it sat motionless in that dirt
hole. I could stay here for a couple dayz. No problem. The propane in the Motorhome tank had run out about a week ago and
it was time to get outfitted with the European set-up for the stuff. The hardware store was a 3 minute walk and had everything
a European could want. I’m an American and I wanted what they didn’t have. An adapter for propane to fill my tank
instead of having to purchase one of theirs. I lost that battle and they won. I’ll get back at’em somehow someday.
I got set up and back on refrigerator, stove and hot water. Wow what a difference. Now I know what the big deal is about living
in one of these here big rigs. I did stay a couple dayz, 3 as a matter of fact. Then it was time to roll. I had a wayz to
go to get to the end of this portion of the show.
Albatera, I had
driven as far as I could on the battery power I had so I looked for a place to stop. I found it at a huge asphalt lot next
to a night club. It was open till 4am and the cars kept commin’ and goin’. Trucks would also stop and I would
watch the driver get out straighten his cloths then lock his rig and head for the club. I looked for the usual hookers that
hang out at places like this, but only in Europe. There was a few but I didn’t have the need for or the money for a
quick thrill. I went to sleep and was ready for the road at 8am.
Murcia was inland and different from the ghost like atmosphere that I had
been driving thru. Ghost like in that most of the businesses were closed for the season and the apartment buildings were vacant.
I could tell after dark with my binocs. No lights on in the hundreds if not thousands of windows that were there. The businesses
that were closed were the hundreds of restaurants, cafes and small stores that sold stuff that only a tourist would buy. You‘no
that important stuff. Come-on ya’no the stuff that ends up at a flea market 15 years down the road. That lines your
pockets with money when ya need it the most. Ya didn’t really have such a good time on that trip anywayz right. Might
as well sell this statue of Nero ya got in Pompeii for 5 bucks. Remember the night yer ol’ lady wouldn’t fuck
ya cuz ya forgot to stop and let her piss after that $200.00 bottle of wine. Yea now ya remember. Sell it for 3 bucks.
The Rig fit just right in the parking lot for the theater. I started off in the middle
hidden by the trees alittle. The second night I moved up close to the street at the gas station. I did ride around alittle.
Started off with a short trip around to get my bearings. Got lost real quick and ended up trying to get to the carved mountain
east of town. Never did get to it and it took me 45 minutes to find the Rig. I decided to stay close to the Rig and as I found
out everything was close by anyway. Groceries and department store just 5 minutes walk. I loaded up on supplies and walked
back to the Rig.
Almeria, I’m
on a roll as I haven’t had any trouble in the last short while. I got to Almeria and located a parking spot at the paseo
with the waves crashing just 50 feet from the Rig. Met some kids on scooters that asked me if I wanted to buy some hash but
I had my key to the roof and didn’t need anymore. Fact was I needed to get to the roof and quick. Hung out at the waves for a couple nights and then it was time to go. I did try to find the H-D dealership but
never did even after askin’ a buncha folks and followin’ a couple bikers to nowhere.
Motrill, Drove
to the beach and found a place 100 meters from the crashing waves. Right at the trash cans. This will do for the night. Maybe
more. After checking the place out as I always do I found a Coke machine that obviously doesn’t work and with my handy
dan power checker I found out there was power in the wire. I moved the Rig so-as to plug into the power cord. Excellent, I
have power. And the bar I’m at is closed during the day so later I’ll unplug and be OK. That didn’t work
and the owner of the bar, SUMO Bar, shows up and he confronted me about where I was parked. It was blocking the area where
he places the tables for his outdoor customers. I went to pull the drop cord to the Coke machine, which I buried and when
I pulled on it the guy was standing right there and saw what I did. He got pissed off and I moved the rig. Later that night
I went to the bar and bought a beer and shook the guyz hand and made up to him cuz I’m and Idiot. He eventually asked
me if I needed to plug in again and I said no which I really did need some more power. For the computer that is.
Fuengirola, I made
it to where I wanted to and even went 15 klix farther. This should do fine and time will tell if I shoulda stopped back up
the road a piece. I needed gas before I ran out and since I’m here I don’t need much as I won’t be driving
the Rig much farther than this. I got gas and drove about 10 klix farther and started to get worried as to where I would park
even for the night. Well, I found a place. It’s freaky the way I find these places. For miles I don’t see anything
that resembles a place for me than all of a sudden I see a road that goes somewhere and away I go on that road. This time
I stopped the Rig and was gonna walk up the asphalt road to see where it went but I figured it went to a good place so I didn’t
walk it I decided to back the Rig up the incline that way if I couldn’t turn around at least I could drive out. I put
the Rig thru the motions and got it up on top of this 10 acre vacant piece of hill top over looking Fuengirola. I’m
the only one here, besides some other folks that live in various holes in the ground. Well,
After getting outa the Rig I checked the place out and it will do just fine. I actually did move about a hundred yards
to the top of the hill. Good view of everything and a fence on 2 sides and I’m in the corner. Here is where headquarters
will be until further notice.
