Normandy and the longest day

Normandy via Belfast?

From the beginning this trip was growing arms and legs.  It started off as a weekend and a couple of nights doing a loop around Northern Ireland.  Then, well we are in Ireland anyway so why not head south?  The ring or Kerry was the latest destination.  Someone then suggested that as we were planning over 1000 miles why not head for France?  So it became a Friday to Monday with a couple of nights in northern France.  Instead of just milling around, why not ‘do’ the D-Day beaches?  This is how we found ourselves, on the longest day of the year,  heading south from Stirling at 7:30pm for a planned 4 day, 1700 mile raid on Normandy.  So much for a few days camping on the North Antrim coast!  Right away we realised that this was going to be motorway and A road dashes between the sights we wanted to see, digs and the tunnel.

Andy grabbed a snap before we hit the road, bikes pictured left to right - Colin on his speed triple, me on the RT, Stewart on another speed triple, Scot on his Multistrada and finally Andy's Tiger 800 in the foreground.   

Late start for day 1, 7:30pm, Photo by Andy Forsyth

We decided to leave on Thursday night to get a few hundred mile start on the run down to the tunnel, so we hit the motorway and headed for Preston and our first overnight stop.  We stopped halfway for fuel and a drink at Todhills, just outside Gretna Green.  At about 11 we checked into the Tickled Trout at Preston, had a pint and turned for the night.

On the road again at half 7 the Friday morning the sun was already starting to burn away the overnight mist and it looked like it was going to be another cracking day.  The M6 north of Birmingham was murder, but it faded away as we picked up the toll road, well worth every penny of the 3 quid toll.  Grumbling stomachs soon guided us to the services at Norton Canes for a McD's breakfast.
Once off the toll road the traffic was heavy all the way to the tunnel.  Mile after mile of average speed roadworks and the M6 & M40 slowed things right down and the least said about the M25 the better.
At least at the tunnel we got on an earlier train and rode more or less straight on.  France at last!

On the train to France!

  

More France train

Within a kilometre of getting of the train it had all gone wrong!  Three off us got on the correct road, Colin ended up heading back for England and Andy got stuck on the roundabout.  After 4 circuits he got his bearings and joined us as we waited for Colin to join us.  Together again, we picked up the A26 and headed for that evenings digs.  130kph toll motorways were bliss after the horrors of the British trunk road system.  Following Andy's TomTom sat nav it was all going well until we got off the A road and into the countryside and a closed road in the middle of a village.  Turning around we ended up stopping on the island of a roundabout, I'm sure the Gendarmerie would have been delighted.  My Garmin immediately came up with an alternative so I was sent out in front to lead.
We finally pulled into Les Ballastieres at about 7:00pm.
Les Ballastieres was a real find, the owners Sue and Paul are incredibly friendly and even greeted us with a beer on arrival!  The accommodation, for 21 Euros, was something else.  Shared indoor camping pods, indoor bike parking and a games room!  Oh, and a fridge full of dumpy beers for a Euro apiece on trust!  Well worth looking it up if you are looking for digs in the area...

The bikes in the courtyard at Les Ballastieres

     

Indoor bike parking

Indoor sleeping pods

The games room

After sleeping like a log we were back on the road, albeit an hour late!  The plan was to head for Utah beach and the memorials around the area.  Getting there, however took way longer than we thought.  Fuel stops all took longer than we thought they would and the tolls were also a drain on out time.  Not just getting through the tolls, but Scot breaking them!  For the first few tolls we stuck together,  the first three got their ticket fine and then Scot pulled up, with me behind him.  No ticket, pressed help, no help, pressed help again, got help that never turned up...they just closed the lane!  Pushing a RT and a Multistrada out of a slightly uphill  French toll against the flow was a nightmare.  It wouldn't be Scot's last moment at the tolls.
A couple of stops later we finally pulled up at Utah beach, one of the two places I really wanted to visit on this trip.
Walking down to the wide, quiet and deserted beach was a strange experience given the violence unleashed on that June day in 1944.  It was sobering moment standing alone on these sands for a few moments.
Coming away from the beach we spent a while wandering around the memorials and displays.

Utah Beach memorial site

Utah Beach

Landing craft and memorial at Utah Beach

Naval memorial at Utah Beach

Memorial at Utah Beach

It took us a while to get round it all.  As time was moving on and that nights campsite was still 30 odd miles away we decided to head for the campsite and see what time we had left.  The ride to Omaha beach camping was uneventful, but on arrival Stewart provided ample amusement.
He had cadged toothpaste of me the night before, but at the campsite he found out he had no pegs for his tent, which needed pegs to stay up and no sleeping bag!  This was taking travelling light to a new level!  With all the tents up, apart from Stewart's, we retired to the site pub for a few beers and food.  During dinner Stewart negotiated the use of a few pegs from Colin.
After toasting up some marshmallows, thanks Andy, over a stove we turned in for the evening.  Stewart spent the night in his bike gear sleeping on the ground of his tent!

My digs at Omaha beach camping

Beers at Omaha beach camping

Scot and Colin toasting marshmallows at Omaha beach camping

On Sunday we decided to get on the road a bit earlier as we had planned to ride some of the coastal road past Gold, Juno and Sword beaches.  The downside to this was a lot of the Museums were closed as we passed.  The American museum at Omaha didn't open for a good few hours and the Overlord museum was also locked up tight when we arrived.  On the upside the roads were great and the villages and towns we passed through were very picturesque.  A couple of navigation induced detours added to the pleasure of riding in rural France.
The roads were fantastic and the drivers amazingly courteous to motorcyclists, many of them stopping to let our whole group through junctions.  Or maybe they were just horrified and didn't want to be anywhere near us!
We stopped of a Arromanches to view to harbour and the memorials.

Arromanches

Memorials over the fields at Arromanches

Leaving Arromanches we continued along the great roads past Gold, Juno and then Sword beaches.  After passing Sword we headed south for Pegasus bridge, the other place I wanted to visit on this trip.  I managed to ride over it in both directions!

Pegasus Bridge

My baw heid and Pegasus bridge

The original Pegasus Bridge in the museum

As that was the last of the planned sites, the decision was made to hit the motorway and get back to Les Ballastieres, or digs once again for Sunday evening.  It was all going so well, until Scot struck again, lucky for me I had picked another lane!  This one was a card only toll and a van ahead of Scot broke it!  More pushing a bike backwards against the traffic on a French motorway...

Regrouping after Scot's latest toll escapade and getting the cameras ready for the Pont de Normandie bridge

The one good thing about this motorway route is the Pont du Normandie bridge, a massive arching bridge over the river Seine.  Stunning and motorbikes are free!
Once again a beer greeted us at Les Ballastieres.  After getting cleaned up we walked 10 minutes into St. Pol-sur-Ternoise for a handful of beers and a meal.
Before turning in, I packed most of my gear as we were aiming to be on the road for 7:30am to get to the tunnel in good time.  Getting into the Calais terminal was a whole lot less traumatic than getting out and in no time we were once again getting ready to board for England.

Ready to board for England

How the hell can British roads be so bad?  After all those miles in France, almost always at 130kmph, within half and hour in the UK we are crawling along.  We were planning on lunch at the Ace cafe, but after 2 and a half hours in 30+ degrees on the M25 we sacked that.  The M40 and M6 were little better...

Yours truly, absolutely shagged on the M40

All in all it took me, and everybody else, 17 hours to travel 580 miles from France to Stirling.

Even though it was a high speed, high mileage long weekend, everyone had a great time.  We were all using Scala Pactalks, which made the miles a whole lot easier and the good natured abuse was relentless... on and off the bike.  I will definitely be back, this time checking the museum opening hours and giving myself more time to explore.

There is already talk of a long weekend to the Alps.... we'll never learn!

The route - 1680 miles