Just do it! WHO ARE ANDY & ALISSA?
How to take the step from ‘normal life’ to a more fulfilling adventure on two-wheels
‘It’s nowhere near as hard as you think. You’ve just got to want it’
‘It doesn’t need to cost the Earth to travel either’
If you’re reading this then you’re curious about jacking it all in, throwing one too many bags over a bike and pottering off into the unknown. Unfortunately for most, that beautiful curiosity ends when faced with a sand dune of paperwork, money, limited time, other people’s opinions and fear… but it doesn’t have to be that way.
I’m not downplaying the blindfolded plunge long-term motorbike travel demands you take, but it’s nowhere near as hard as you might think. Taking that first step from where you are now to a life on the road is possible no matter your circumstances. You’ve just got to want it bad enough.
Do you really want it?
Motorcycle travel is one of life’s most raw, visceral and liberating challenges. You’ll explore the world (and what you’re made of) while being constantly exposed to the best and worst it can throw at you. It’ll change your life – one way or another. Sounds good, right? But there’s a difference between a big trip and signing up for it full time. Firstly, you need to decide if it’s something you really want. And to do that, you have to weigh up your options: giving up a roof, your local supermarket, running water and Wi-Fi for the unknown. Willing to trade it all in? Yes? Great! That’s all that matters; everything else can be overcome. And by everything else, I mean those lingering questions that put most of us off. Here they are and why they’re not important.
Do you need to know what you’re doing?
It’s easy to think bike travel is reserved for bearded bike warriors who could have competed in the Dakar (if they had £75K knocking about), can rebuild their engine with a pair of pliers and a paperclip, know how to use a sextant and can navigate the Sahara with a wet finger. But that’s rubbish. Fifteen years ago I thought all of the above, but couldn’t have been more wrong.
After years on the road and meeting hundreds of bike travellers, 98% are just average folk who bought an old bike and set off (most without a clue). Not many people tell you that, certainly nobody told me that. It’s a rapid learning curve and you’ll pick up everything you need to know as you go.
Can I handle it?
There will be hard times because things will go wrong, from crashes to endless breakdowns and shivering bones to delirious sweating. And yeah, there’ll probably be a few nights spent sobbing in a soggy tent wondering what the hell you’re doing… ahem. But the next day, when you’re riding the roof of the world, chasing the Silk Road or cruising Canada’s back country trails, you’ll only wish you did it sooner. Taking this on means riding into the unknown, it’s what you signed up for. It may be hard at the time, but the good will always outweigh the bad…eventually. Because after all, adventure is simply discomfort recounted at leisure.
What bike do I need?
You can travel on whatever you like. We met Franck in Tajikistan who had ridden there from France. Two years ago, he had never even touched a motorcycle. He retired, took his bike test, was ignored in a KTM dealership and fell in love with a Royal Enfield Bullet Classic he met online. Today he’s ridden 50,000 miles on it around the world from Europe to Mongolia, South America and North Africa and is now on his way to Australia. He loves the bike and that’s what matters, not what your mates say. It doesn’t need to cost the earth either. Travellers on expensive machinery spend most of their time worrying about their bikes (parts, dropping it and security). While those on raggedy old thumpers laugh as they lock up the rear and fly sideways, are up for trying harder trails and just dump their bikes in hotel car parks for the night. Plus, once you’re out of Europe, there’s
Ex-MCN journalist Andy and partner Alissa left the UK on January to ride 1, 2018 around-the-world They’ve covered indefinitely. 50,000 miles so far after riding to Japan and then onto Southeast Asia. Follow their adventures at madornomad.com
‘Speaking from experience, it’s the best thing you’ll ever do’
no insurance on your bike so if it gets nicked then that’s that. Go on something cheap, reliable and easy to fix roadside – and save yourself a lot of money and stress.
Do I need to be a mechanical genius?
The most hardened and experienced traveller I know has stories that would make your Sidis curl. From near death in Turkmenistan’s no-man’s land, nearly starving to death and being secretly fed through a fence by border guards, to racing to Southeast Asia in world record time and losing a foot...
On top of that he happily admits he doesn’t know a thing about his bike or even how to change a tube, but at 70 something years of age and still travelling he’s had a life on two wheels that’d make your jaw drop - and grab the nearest bike to ride off into the sunset. So, as my friend proves, you don’t need to be a mechanical genius, but a little knowledge will get you a long way.
Am I too old?
“Age is just a number” they said as we sat in a Kyrgyz yurt reluctantly sipping warm horse milk as the host watched with an encouraging smile. The dusty duo were in their late 60s, riding around-the-world two-up and loving life. Their secret was simple: “We take it slower than most.” Which was a lie as all those years of riding made them rapid. But still, there are plenty of older travellers on lighter bikes who give themselves more time. Family usually comes into play with age, too. But the world is a smaller place that you might think, and accessing it is incredibly easy. So, most people budget in a ‘returns package’. Keep a decent chunk of money to one side for flights home to see your family – if you like them.
I don’t know how to plan
It’s near impossible to plan and prepare in advance for a long-term trip. So much will change while you’re on the road. Visas can expire before you get there, customs change their rules, ferries go bust and there are even worldwide pandemics to contend with! You might even fall in love with a country and want to stay an extra year or two. So there’s no need to tie yourself down to time restrictions, just do your research into each country before you get close to entering. Let go of strict planning and roll with it – it’ll reduce stress levels, not increase them.
What about money?
Bike travel isn’t restricted to retirees or those with deep pockets. In Central Asia you can live off less than £10 a day including fuel, accommodation and food – even less in Southeast Asia. But if you’re looking to ride indefinitely, then it’s worth having some idea of how you’re going to support yourself. The easiest answer is to save up enough money. The better answer is to replenish those savings as you go. Nirvana is doing both plus stretching each coin as far as possible by keeping expenses low, minimize unnecessary spending (while still enjoying yourself) and clever budgeting. Savings are down to you, budgeting you’ll figure out as you go, but earning on the road can be tricky.
Luckily, there’s loads of options. I met a chap who started his trip with a point-and-shoot camera, fell in love with photography, learnt his craft and now makes a living from it as he travels. Some people stop for a few months each year to teach English at schools or online. Another guy is a builder and does odd jobs along the way. People freelance, write articles, make money from YouTube, try online and digital jobs, Wwoofing (odd jobs in exchange for a room and meals), work in hostels, farms, bars, lead tours… whatever. It’s simply a way to top up your account as and when you find a place you’d like to spend some extra time in.
Your turn!
The fact of the matter is that swapping to a life on the road isn’t as hard, complicated or scary as it’s sometimes made out to be. It’s just a lifestyle choice that anyone can make, whatever your bike, budget, experience or skill level.
If it’s something you really want to do (and why wouldn’t it be?), don’t let anything or anyone put you off. Just grab your bike (and maybe a toothbrush… and perhaps a change of pants) and get out there. Speaking from experience, I promise you it’ll be the best thing you ever do.