GENEVA, SWITZERLAND – Riding home tonight on my bicycle I was caught up short at the sight of the new Kawasaki Versys 1000 sitting out front of my neighborhood motorcycle shop.
Most of the recent Japanese bikes leave me completely nonplussed aesthetically, but Kawasaki’s new Adventure-Tourer strikes just the right balance of technological innovation and no-nonsense styling.
The big in-line four cylinder engine (1043 cc) reminds me of my old KZ and Gpz, 700 and 1000 bikes and indeed the motor is borrowed from Kawasaki’s z1000 naked sport bike (which was apparently designed by a Manga artist).
The Versys, which debuted at the Milan Motorcycle Show in November 2011, is conservative in appearance (read sensible, pragmatic) but comes equipped with a three stage adjustable traction control and economy shift option for the six gears in addition to the increasingly standard ABS option.
For starters, I love the double-wide saddle for both rider and passenger, the rear luggage rack flows seamlessly from the rear cushion, and the modest quarter fairing and overall bling-free design is a major plus. The white, gray and matte black color scheme adds just the right gravitas for this bike, which has been described as “chunky.”
Some initial reviews question the need for another SUV bike that is too heavy for off-road use, on the other hand, the upright riding position, adjustable windscreen and clean lines get my vote for a back-to-basics tourer; Kawasaki does no-frills well, and I look forward to following this bike’s success.
Phnom Pehn, Cambodia- What do freshwater dolphins, sticky rice in bamboo and stilted mosques claim in common?
These were all found just off of the national highway in Northeast Cambodia thanks to our intrepid guide and driver.
The dolphins, which are impressive in their own right, were part of my daughter’s Cambodia itinerary.
Sitting in the middle of the massive body of water that is the Mekong river, with the sound of water breaking over the rapids upstream and the rhythmic exhaling of the dolphins surfacing every few minutes, was the sort of blissful family moment you get about once every teen calendar year.
Our return to Phnom Pehn included a stop in Kampong Cham, Cambodia’s third city with a population of around 65,000, and a shiny new bridge across the Mekong river.
Unfortunately we didn’t have enough time to explore this low-keyed town with a picturesque waterfront.
As we drove out of town to the Phnom Pros Temple we appreciated the green spaces and vibrant street culture of Kampong Cham and made a note to return here on a future visit.
The Temple was our final stop on our 12-hour whirlwind tour and we took in the sunset view of the surrounding area while a tribe of small monkeys plied us for food.
The next morning at 7 am, we said our goodbyes to Phnom Penh and the mighty Mekong and hopped in a minibus for the (supposed) eight or nine hour trip to Koh Chang Island in the Gulf of Thailand, and that is a tale for another day.
PHNOM PENH, CAMBODIA – Just back from a 10-day visit to Cambodia and Thailand and ruminating on my family’s adventures.
Among the amazing sights in Cambodia were the obligatory gravity defying scenes of whole families as well as just about any other household appliance or ware imaginable, slung over the saddle of Khmer Rouge era scooters and sputtering down the road.
But what was even more amazing in retrospect, was the range of transport we both saw and used in travelling across the better part of Cambodia, and the Southeastern corner of Thailand.
A brief survey includes: Motodop (motorbike taxi), TukTuk (motorbike rickshaw), rented motorbike, taxi, minibus, ferry boat, pirogue, longboat, pickup-truck, and my favorite…elephant (see gallery pics below).
Bicycles were easily rented in Phnom Penh and I noted several day tours advertised. Unfortunately given the short time frame for our visit, family considerations (protests) and the hectic traffick in Phnom Penh, Bangkok and other areas visited, I did not explore this avenue (next time).
Cambodia is roughly half the size of Germany territorially speaking, with a highway system that while greatly improved recently, still reflects the largely rural nature and grinding poverty that characterizes the country – until five or six years ago the quickest route from Phnom Penh to the central and Northern regions of the country was along the Mekong river on the so called “Bullet Boat.”
I was in fact sad that the Bullet Boat no longer runs up the Mekong, at least not for daily travellers; the only other option for slow travellers wishing to reach the non-descript villages along the river is to invest several days time in learning local minibus routes, or to rent a car and driver and ask him to drive into the hinterland…which is what we did.
As it turned out, our driver spoke a good deal of English and doubled as a guide to the images of rural Cambodia laid out around us. He also had a better idea of what we would find interesting, than we did picking towns off of the map and from the guidebook.
Highpoints included the rice paddy vistas going Northeast from the capital towards the Vietnamese Border, and a window into some of Cambodia’s minority communities as we went further North – including a surprising number of mosques (some on stilts emphasizing their dual identities).
Outside Kratie, our original destination, the National Highway turns into a sleepy lane winding along the Mekong River past roadside stalls selling bamboo stalks filled with sticky rice and other local specialities.
It was hard to believe this was the principal international route to neighboring Laos. As we took in the sights, our driver, Naret deftly led us to a small dirt turnoff overlooking the river, “Here are the boats for dolphin viewing,” he announced.
Tales of dolphins and travel in Cambodia and Thailand to be continued…
- Disco bus near Cambodia/Thai border
- Phnom Pehn family truckster
- Rice fields near Cambodia/Vietnamese border
- Sticky rice vendor near Kratie
GENEVA, SWITZERLAND – When was the last time someone said you were too old to dream?
For me, motorcycles and dreams, dreaming, have always been intertwined and I was unexpectedly cut low recently when a colleague told me there are few spots he would venture to on a motorcycle in Africa today.
We were drinking beer, celebrating a successful meeting and waxing poetic about bike adventures and the beauty of being at the same time more vulnerable, and more open to transformative experiences on a bike.
I was thinking of my lifelong dream to take a bike from Nuevo Laredo, Texas (nostalgic point of departure South) to Tierra del Fuego, loaded with a tent, some food and a camera. I asked aloud if he thought it was statistically more dangerous to adventure-travel in the world of today than it was, say, 23 years ago when I was crisscrossing Central America.
His reply of “Good God yes man!” couldn’t have deflated me more than if he’d have hit me in the gonads. I was struck suddenly with the fear that not only had that dream vanished in time, but so would so many others, based on the fact that humanity has gone to hell.
Shortly afterwards I begged off for the evening, blaming it on a headache, and walked back towards my motorcycle, wondering if he was right.
And then another thought came to me regarding a work discussion earlier in the day on perceptions of increased xenophobia in Switzerland and beyond. One colleague pointed out that historically bigotry has done quite well in Europe, and in most parts of the world at one time or another (frequently when work is in short supply).
For two weeks I have been ruminating on this. Are we going to hell then, really? Has the state of humanity declined? Do I need to rethink my 10 year plan for trekking in the Americas? Or is this a functioning of fear-mongering and how we see the world as we get older?
A little perspective is a good thing: I bought my first motorcycle in Nicaragua, where I was living during the tail end of the Contra War and I traveled solo on local buses through at least three nations living through civil wars. Granted, ignorance and stupidity are sometimes saving graces, literally, in lieu of knowledge and intelligence. But the only near-death experience I have had on a motorcycle (that I know of) involved a drunk driver at 4AM in Albuquerque, New Mexico.
The historical record would seem to show that the world is just as complicated as it has always been, that adventure is inherently risky, and that we only see what we allow ourselves to see.
Planning is back on for the 2021 TransAm(erica).
GENEVA, SWITZERLAND, Cantonal Office of Automobiles and Navigation (OCAN) – I have never owned a new motor vehicle. In fact most bikes and cars I have owned have been several years old.
In Canton Geneva, vehicles more than 10 years old must be inspected every two years, and I feel the belt tightening every time my motors are due for a visit because the Geneva office actually measures tread depth and runs a white glove around the fork seals looking for telltale leakage.
I have grown grudgingly to appreciate this Genevois rigour but I went through my first few visits with clenched teeth as I waited to hear the damage to my wallet.
GENEVA, SWITZERLAND – Is it just me or have the weather gods smiled on Geneva this Fall?
All the better to get back in the saddle after what seems like an extended hiatus limited to commuting on two-wheels.
Sharing the road with a group on horseback makes me forget momentarily about gas stations, traffic lights and vehicle inspections.
And something about the empty vineyards early morning and late afternoon is calming to a mind overrun with extraneous garbage.
Like a dream more vivid than my waking moments.
GENEVA, SWITZERLAND – Long before I ever moved to the land of milk and chocolate, I read Roald Dahl’s “Charlie and the Chocolate Factory” and dreamt of endless supplies of the brown elixir.
In fact, I caught more than one culprit dipping their spoon into a chocolate fountain on day two of the Salon International des Chocolatiers et du Chocolat at the Batiment de Forces Motrices, in Geneva.
Click on pictures to enlarge
MORGES, SWITZERLAND – How many museums let you to run your hand over a piece of art valued at one million francs?
That is the estimated worth of the original Jaguar E type from the 1961 Geneva Autoshow, on show 1 October at the Swiss Classic British Car Meet.
The showing, which was the centerpiece of the Meet, marked the first time British car buffs could look at their reflection in the cars signature side view mirrors close up – without the security perimeter of the original debut.
GENEVA, SWITZERLAND – Ever had a pair of jeans that just never fit right, or a car that ran lousily but refused to die? Lately I have been plagued by bicycles that just won’t be fixed – what I think of as demon bikes.
Last week someone brought me a 21-speed mountain bike with the gears slipping.
An initial assessment determined that a new chain should have solved the problem, but not quite.
Next I changed the derailleur thinking the old unit was not holding enough tension, still no dice.
Increasingly agitated at the ability of this simple machine to best me, not to mention rob me of some prime biking time, I switched out the rear wheel noting the teeth on the cogs were a bit worn down and… nothing, same problem.
PARIS, FRANCE – How long does it take to bike from the Arc de Triomphe to the Eastern edge of Paris? This was the premise of a recent bicycle circuit in the City of Light.
Having covered many of Paris’ 20 arrondissements separately on foot over the course of several visits, I was curious to see them back to back.
What I found was a web of marked routes and dedicated bike lanes stretching from the tony neighbourhoods around Monceau to the positively “popular” areas around Gare du Nord, and further into the banlieus.
The ride (less than 2 hours r/t) took me through Pigalle, past the Moulin Rouge, by a horde of tour buses and Place de Clichy and dumped me at Bassin de la Villette, an artificial lake in the middle of the city built up from the Saint Denis Canal.
The Bassin or reservoir is surrounded by a series of open plazas and boat piers with tourist cruises running up the Saint Denis and is reason enough to check out this route.
I also happened to catch the last weekend of Paris Plages, a municipal effort converting various waterfront areas in the city including the Bassin, into “beach front” with lounge chairs, water sports and of course, sand.


































































