Alps 2012 + 1
I entered Lons-le-Saunier on the D70 and rested a while for a map check update and some water. Shortly after the check I left town along the D1083 toward Bourg-en Bresse.
I was needing a fuel fill and so kept my eyes peeled for a service station en-route. Eventually I pull into a station , filled the tank, took on some water and set off again. There was no hurry on this adventure and so I drove through many a small village or town but not necessarily taking much notice of their names. Some of the mid-sized towns were quite heavy with traffic and I had no alternative but to peel off and re-route the sat-nav.
At one point , and I cannot remember the precise location , whilst negotiating traffic and then being able to pull higher gears, I heard a sound that momentarily caught my attention. ‘What was that...?’ I heard myself mutter under my helmet and took little further notice after checking my mirrors. This was ‘seemingly a big mistake on my part!
I continued on to Pont D’Ain whereupon all my miseries would descend upon me in one heap!
I pulled over to check my positioning again and of course to take on more liquids. I wanted to have one of my E-Cigs but to my horror my Kriega waste bag was no longer with me!
‘Where’s my Kriega?’ , I asked , as if there were anybody nearby to answer , or even know what I meant. ‘No, I mean where is it’? I found myself questioning again.
You know how it is when you know fully well that what you are looking for isn’t even on the same map page as you and yet you still look high and low for it , well this was one of those times.
I didn’t hang it on the handlebar when I dismounted , I knew it wasn’t in the panniers, it wasn’t under the bike , it simply wasn’t with me anymore. I suddenly felt very, very low.
The contents of my Kriega , least those I can remember, were the following, and in no particular order of significance:-
Driving License – Passport – V5 – Motor Insurance – Wallet with 250 to 300 Euros – BMW Assist card – Bank Cards – E-Cig – Pain Killers – iPhone Charger and adaptor kit for other electricals and my diary notes for Day 1 of my travels. Today was not a good day!
I approached a passer by and asked in my best French (close to non-existent) language for directions to the nearest police station or Tourist Information centre. Nope!
She led me into the nearest shop and still no joy with breaking the language barrier.
A couple of doors along , an Hotel. At last , we could get a dialogue going.
I was needing a fuel fill and so kept my eyes peeled for a service station en-route. Eventually I pull into a station , filled the tank, took on some water and set off again. There was no hurry on this adventure and so I drove through many a small village or town but not necessarily taking much notice of their names. Some of the mid-sized towns were quite heavy with traffic and I had no alternative but to peel off and re-route the sat-nav.
At one point , and I cannot remember the precise location , whilst negotiating traffic and then being able to pull higher gears, I heard a sound that momentarily caught my attention. ‘What was that...?’ I heard myself mutter under my helmet and took little further notice after checking my mirrors. This was ‘seemingly a big mistake on my part!
I continued on to Pont D’Ain whereupon all my miseries would descend upon me in one heap!
I pulled over to check my positioning again and of course to take on more liquids. I wanted to have one of my E-Cigs but to my horror my Kriega waste bag was no longer with me!
‘Where’s my Kriega?’ , I asked , as if there were anybody nearby to answer , or even know what I meant. ‘No, I mean where is it’? I found myself questioning again.
You know how it is when you know fully well that what you are looking for isn’t even on the same map page as you and yet you still look high and low for it , well this was one of those times.
I didn’t hang it on the handlebar when I dismounted , I knew it wasn’t in the panniers, it wasn’t under the bike , it simply wasn’t with me anymore. I suddenly felt very, very low.
The contents of my Kriega , least those I can remember, were the following, and in no particular order of significance:-
Driving License – Passport – V5 – Motor Insurance – Wallet with 250 to 300 Euros – BMW Assist card – Bank Cards – E-Cig – Pain Killers – iPhone Charger and adaptor kit for other electricals and my diary notes for Day 1 of my travels. Today was not a good day!
I approached a passer by and asked in my best French (close to non-existent) language for directions to the nearest police station or Tourist Information centre. Nope!
She led me into the nearest shop and still no joy with breaking the language barrier.
A couple of doors along , an Hotel. At last , we could get a dialogue going.
Mr Pouchain, he of the Hotel, was made aware of my situation and understood that I had less money on me than I would normally have if I were skint! Nevertheless, I was offered a room for the night , or for as long as necessary until I could resolve the situation in some way or another. Mr Pouchain said I could pay him when I get back home to England. This was not the first time he would go some way to helping restore my faith in the human species , of which I have little!
I now had directions to the local Gendarme and set off the 1km or so to pay them a visit. They were reluctant to file my report or even document it as nothing had been stolen. Stolen and lost were two totally different things and only one of such situations requires an official documented report to be issued/filed.
Eventually I managed to persuade them to go with my way of thinking that if were to be stopped by the Gendarme anywhere in France, then some kind of document , even unofficial ,would at least indicate that I had reported the situation. A little while later I was issued an unofficial report document.
I now had directions to the local Gendarme and set off the 1km or so to pay them a visit. They were reluctant to file my report or even document it as nothing had been stolen. Stolen and lost were two totally different things and only one of such situations requires an official documented report to be issued/filed.
Eventually I managed to persuade them to go with my way of thinking that if were to be stopped by the Gendarme anywhere in France, then some kind of document , even unofficial ,would at least indicate that I had reported the situation. A little while later I was issued an unofficial report document.
A friendly moment with Mr Pouchain Madame Gendarme!
The Gendarme telephoned the British Embassy and put me on the phone to have a chat with them. I was advised that I could get an emergency passport at either Marseilles or Paris for my eventual return to the UK. I was also advised that if I knew anybody in the UK that could perhaps wire me some money through Western Union to cover my homebound costs.
This was fast becoming a disaster , much like last year for myself and Jo on the previously owned F650 on our initial Alpine adventure. That too ended very abruptly in Italy which resulted in us both flying back to the UK whilst the bike was being repaired in Italy.
After much ‘lowness’ and many text exchanges to Jo at home she managed to set up the wiring transaction through Western Union for me to collect from the local post office in the morning, on Day 3 , a Saturday.
Not having any I.D on me now, in any form whatsoever , and yes , I realise now the importance of duplicating everything and keeping all duplicates separate from the originals , I would not be able to collect the funds on my own. Mr Pouchain would have his associate accompany me in the morning to the post office and he would sign for collection.
There are times when modern technology really grates on me , there are other times when you can marvel at its value , now was the time for the latter.
I sat out front of the Hotel with a beer, sulking in silence at not only my great loss, or Jo’s financial inconvenience , but also the thought of heading back to the UK with my Alps or Bust adventure looking very much like in full 'bust' mode!
I had a few moments to myself down by the riverside.
This was fast becoming a disaster , much like last year for myself and Jo on the previously owned F650 on our initial Alpine adventure. That too ended very abruptly in Italy which resulted in us both flying back to the UK whilst the bike was being repaired in Italy.
After much ‘lowness’ and many text exchanges to Jo at home she managed to set up the wiring transaction through Western Union for me to collect from the local post office in the morning, on Day 3 , a Saturday.
Not having any I.D on me now, in any form whatsoever , and yes , I realise now the importance of duplicating everything and keeping all duplicates separate from the originals , I would not be able to collect the funds on my own. Mr Pouchain would have his associate accompany me in the morning to the post office and he would sign for collection.
There are times when modern technology really grates on me , there are other times when you can marvel at its value , now was the time for the latter.
I sat out front of the Hotel with a beer, sulking in silence at not only my great loss, or Jo’s financial inconvenience , but also the thought of heading back to the UK with my Alps or Bust adventure looking very much like in full 'bust' mode!
I had a few moments to myself down by the riverside.
Mr Pouchain came outside and over to my table wearing a friendly smile and said "if you need some money for food it is no problem for me to give you 20 Euros". I accepted his kind offer and walked a short way down town to the Pizza restaurant.
Laurant (Mr Pouchain) was immediately promoted to a Silver Star person in my eyes after having previously been awarded a bronze star for his understanding and kindness earlier that day.
Most of the evening had been spent sitting out front of the Hotel taking photos of anything that moved, some things that didn't and getting up to date with the blogging notes for Day 2.
Laurant (Mr Pouchain) was immediately promoted to a Silver Star person in my eyes after having previously been awarded a bronze star for his understanding and kindness earlier that day.
Most of the evening had been spent sitting out front of the Hotel taking photos of anything that moved, some things that didn't and getting up to date with the blogging notes for Day 2.
I retired to my room at 22:00hrs and put the TV on for a bit of background whilst the notes continued. For a moment I glanced up at the TV and saw a woman that I thought was , shall we say ‘interesting’! She had a manner in her walk , flirtatious I guess, and her clothing suggested that this was going somewhere , not that there was anything particularly outstanding about her attire , but just a kind of something that said keep watching , so I did. In another 30 seconds all became clearer in the next scene , which included the programme sub-title in the scene!