Bremen

South from Aarhus on a cold Sunday  morning. I can see the wall of rain ahead and push the button that deploys Elsa's big wind shield all the way forward. It goes quiet as the shield cuts off the wind turbulence. I sit upright to get my eyes above the upper edge of the screen, and switch on the heaters. It's going to be a long and grim ride. Refuelling problems again. Visa cards don't work.

The sun came out as I drifted into highway filling station over the German border. I moved the bike once due to unsavoury looking types rummaging through the waste bins. The place looked OK but I felt uneasy all the same. Four minibus' full of youths bracketed me and spieled their hordes all around me. They were immediately larking around. 16 years old maybe, but 40 or more of them. I felt a sense of deja vous. They packed in close to myself and Elsa, beginning to jostle me. One started pratting around with one of Elsa's mirrors and called to a friend some way off (Translated from German) "Hey come over here, we are playing with the Englishman". No hesitation, I dared not. I shoved him hard shocking him and said in English "You may be playing. I'm not!" A quick swivel doing the Belfast walk and I spotted two adults supposed to be supervising the lads. I made eye contact and shouted "GET THEM OFF MY MOTORCYCLE!" The two guys intervened and moved the surly youths enough for me to reverse the BMW out, mount and ride away. What is it with teenage boys?

Crossing Hamburg North to South is worse than East to West. The tailback to get through the tunnel under the river is massive, even on a Sunday afternoon. Remind me not to use this route. More autobahn and into Bremen's city centre. Finally Satnav Jane got me to my digs on the riverside. Parking Elsa on the Pavement (sidewalk) as suggested at reception, I made my way to my room and a very welcome hot shower. Once clean and changed into civvies, I set off along the riverside promenade to explore the beer gardens, bars and restaurants. Alone is not great but I'm used to it. To early to eat I returned to my digs. The tramp was going through my gear as I rounded the corner. He actually looked at me and disregarded me. Then it dawned on me. I am not in motorcycle gear. He doesn't know the bike he is robbing is mine. He turned his back on me and carried on, until I hauled him off and spun him around. The poor old bugger nearly wet himself. What he had taken was my bottle of mineral water secured under the cargo net. I let him keep it. He scampered away. I check all else was secure and decided I was ready for bratworst, bread and beer after all, and an early night. You know what? There is a lot to be said for boring days.