British Travel Journal | Spring 2019

ally trucks. Strapped in tight, for the long and
slow journey up to the Castle of Mey, located at
the very northern tip of mainland Britain.
What happens at the start line?
After 24 hours of driving north from London,
we finally reached the top of the country in the
support vehicles and set up the rally camp at
the northern tip. Overlooking the North Sea
from the Castle of Mey, with the glow of the
refineries on the horizon behind the islands of
Stroma and Orkney, seals playing in the bay
beneath camp. The team from the Nomadic
Kitchen (Tom & Will) arrived riding a pair of
borrowed Royal Enfield Himalayans, got out
their knives, lit the fires and prepared the first
nights wild cooking feast - fire roasted pork
loin and mouth watering roasted salads. 70+
riders descended on the Castle of Mey from all
over the world (mainly Europe) for the Riders’
Check-In.
After all riders had checked in, we rode five
miles along the coast up to the lighthouse,
perched on a slab of rock 250m above the
lashing sea. Seventy completely unique classic/
café/custom motorcycles made up the pack,
as we snaked back and forth up the hill to
the lighthouse. I turned to see all the bikes
behind me meandering up the hill in single
file, moving as one continuous machine, the
headlamps lighting up the hill in the dusk - it
was a beautiful sight. We rode back along the
coast and the local villagers had come out of
their house to wave the rally past, very sweet.
The feeling that the rally was about to begin
was building.
Back at camp, we had the first and most
detailed riders’ briefing, describing the next
day’s route, with riders from last year’s rally
joining in with local tips on the route and their
thoughts on the rally experience and team
riding. The briefing was followed by the now
customary whisky pairing; local single-malt
with locally caught/smoked salmon. There was
a toast, a cheer, a gulp of whisky and it was
back to the bikes!
What happened on the first day in stage 1?
I don’t know if Tom and Will from the
Nomadic Kitchen made it to bed that
night, I woke at 5am and they were slaving
away over the fire, knocking out a hearty
wild cooked breakfast for everyone. Rally
mornings are always the most rushed and
the first day was the most chaotic, bikes and
kit everywhere - riders running from tents to
bikes, half dressed in leathers, toothbrush in
one hand, with a coffee and spanner in the
other, trying to find some odd component
that they were sure they packed. We had a
quick briefing with the rally marshals at 6am,
minutes later they tore off on bikes, which in
that moment felt like we were about to play
the largest game of hide and seek in the land.
With a two hour head start, the marshals
headed out to set up check-points and report
back of any route problems. We threw our
rally duffels into the support vehicles and
headed to the start-line at the Castle.
With all the planning in the world, some
things you can’t predict. After I and half of
the bikes had reached the start line, with not
a soul in sight, the local farmer, not realising
there were another 40 bikes behind us,
closed the in-road with a JCB, acting as a
blockade for his cows. As we soon learned
the “Royal Cows” take priority and the big
herd ran boisterously down the castle track.
You don’t want to put a motorcycle in the
way of that stampede.
Minutes later, everyone was assembled in
front of the Castle, the first time some of the
teams had really met each other. Log books
out, stamped, the flag dropped - the rally
had begun. Teams departed in five minute
intervals. My plan was to ride out as soon
as the last team had left and catch up with
them. Second hitch of the morning, a modern
street-scrambler suddenly wouldn’t start.
Calum from deBolex Engineering who heads
up the engineering team can fix anything. He
38 BritishTravelJournal.com