Pangea and Modern World and Motorcycles

Once, we lie side by side. Like twins in Earth’s womb, Africa and South America! Snug, a mere 250 million years ago. And then, the massive slabs of rock we sit on tear us apart. Torturously slow! Molten rocks rise. Rifts screech and ease into valleys. Mountains surge. Seafloors spread. And continents drift apart. It’s terrifying, but unseen. All of it, at a snail’s pace.

And now, a whole Atlantic Ocean separates us, from South America.

And our early bonds – DNA and destiny – do they endure …

Huge swaths of wilderness. Untamed animals. Colonisers and chains, liberators and flags, dictators and frail democracies.

It stirs us. We’d like to ride there.

But it’s more than the Atlantic Ocean that Harry and I have to cross! It’s inertia!

Our bikes stand and we sit! Its seven years, since our last big trip. Truly, we are happy at rest.

It’s the little pleasures, the reassuring routines. A pantry full of ‘our favourite things’. A rack of wine, at the ready. A little exercise. Daily walks with the dogs. Physio for a knee, a chiropractor for the shoulder. Seeds fall, birds gather. Lunch with a friend. A click of a button, and Netflix carries us anywhere and everywhere. The steady comfort of family, of friends, of work.

We need a seismic shift! An earth-shattering effort to heave ourselves off these floppy couches.

And we do. Because it’s the road! It’s a drug.

And in no time, we don’t sit at all!

We read, we plot, we plan. It’s on a wall, the map, the route and the schedule. We claw over bureaucratic hurdles. We vaccinate against yellow fever, hepatitis, tetanus, rabies. We carefully remove padding and thoroughly wash those motorbike suits. We shake out rain-suits and rain-boots. We search high and low for our little cooker set. Lists haunt us at night; motorbike spares, gadgetry, manuals, medicines, toiletries, documents. Online and offline maps, mobile data, a sewing kit, nail clippers …. We hand our home to caring keepers. We service our bikes, crate them, ship them … to Our Other Side. We follow, 8 weeks later.

Excitement bolts. Joy crackles.

Let’s Go …..

‘Vamos!’, ‘Donde Este Montevideo?’

This is what we hope to do …..