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no one said it would be easy

probably have sunk the ship before it was even launched.

Lawrie in some ways is the archetypal Aussie — tall, broad and bronzed. I've always described Lawrie as a chameleon because of his amazing ability to adapt to his surroundings. He would have been a great undercover cop. If a situation called for a gentle caring soul, Lawrie would be the most earnest thoughtful person that could be imagined. He was new age before new age was even thought of. If a boorish yobbo was needed, his depravity would be of paramount substance. Being at the opera with the chinless-wonders of English society was as much Lawrie's environment as a rugby club trip with semi-neanderthal drunks. Largely self-educated, his adaptability was awesome to watch. He is an honest and fun-to-be-with companion who must count hundreds as close friends. Lawrie makes friends as easily and often as most people breathe.

Lawrie had been travelling for six or more years by this stage and seemed like an ideal candidate for position in the team. I believe I’d spent some quality time with him in the bars of Pamplona but neither of us could recall this with any clarity. He was a good loyal man in my rugby team, always supportive, always fun and amusing in a self-deprecating way. Never ridden a motorbike … well neither had I before I rode one. There is always the first time for everything.

I didn’t want a big ‘gang’ but thought maybe two or three others along would make for group fun without the difficulties of large numbers. The earlier ride on Ernie with Anne had often been just a little too solitary. We’d had some amazing times but also squabbled a lot without any others along to diffuse tensions and minor irritations.

Around this time an American from my rugby team had asked “What are you doing next summer?” and when told, he’d said “Hell, I’d be keen!” I didn’t know him very well outside of our weekend interactions but he met my criteria … so we had a crew. This meant three bikes and it didn’t take long for me to decide that Bessie, the old BSA could be diverted away from a dream of vintage racing, into a reliable old road-warrior ready for the hard yards of a trans-continental adventure. Samantha, the 1961 Panther was soon joined by Penelope, a sibling from the same Cleckheaton factory but of 1965 vintage – one of the last made. It was all falling into place. There was a dream, there were three keen riders and three not-so-suitable bikes.

Again say it quickly and it isn’t hard … just a bit of prep, and we’ll be good to go! Simplicity is key … old bikes with uncomplicated low-compression engines,