Throughout our lives there is always a reason or an excuse to justify the lack of courage to launch into a real adventure.
I’ve never driven a motorcycle, but if a child can imagine him or herself in any number of characters, there is no reason for an adult, with more life experience, not to manage throwing themselves into the imaginary world of a motorcyclist.
The beginning of the trip would have to be picturesque, just before sunset, on a BMW R45 motorcycle without a travel plan and with only one purpose; to not worry.
I don’t like to stay away from home for long periods of time, but on this kind of trip thinking of return sounds like cowardice. The motorbike now has the power to break me free of all obligations and responsibility to carry me to places full of memories.
As a rookie adventurer, I was willing to experience everything, without ever putting my life on the line.
Travelling to absorb a lot and to spend little, without any requirement for comfort that would condemn all my stories to failure.
To record moments, a small camera and a pocket diary to help romanticise some episodes and to maintain the old traveller’s tradition.
I assume I’m not the only owner who is proud of always having their car clean, but with my bike (which does not exist) the relationship would have to be something else. A pure two-wheeled traveller understands their motorbike, it talks, it vents, it’s proud of its achievements, it worries when it’s cold, as if sneezing was a possibility for a motorbike. Go!… The bike is more or less a pampered member of the family that earned its place in its own right.
Illustrations: The Red Wolf
Photos: Laurent Nivalle