There are easier ways to cross a border

Dave thought he was auditioning for the remake of "The Great Escape"

After an early ferry, a misty start, visiting the Giants Causeway and some random Game Of Thrones site, we headed into the mountains in search of a small border crossing.

Things had been going well until late in the day, on a wet road, as Dave approached a right hand bend his bike had other ideas and decided it should lay down.

This was a first for me, normally I am the one other people watch flip into hedges.

It was nice of Dave to warn me that the bend might have some unexpected extras, so I wasn't surprised when my rear end twitched and recovered. All I had to do next was make sure I didn't hit Dave. Helpfully he slid away from his bike and followed it into the hedge.

I parked up, ran over and enquired if he was ok. With an affirmative I then checked if he wanted some pictures taking. Got to get priorities right.

With the help of some locals we dragged the bike out and then went about finding as many pieces of the bike as we could.

I kept holding up plastic and saying "is this a bit of yours?" each time he said "no" the locals laughed. Apparently this was a common ooccurrence here.

After the about the 5th passerby asking "anyone hurt?" I thought it was best to replace "No, only his pride" with "only his wallet" as I was starting to get evil stares from Dave.

Remarkably the bike was still rideable and we continued the last 20 miles to Donegal, crossing into Ireland over some moorland road with no indication of the border.

It was decided that we should have a rest day, so Dave set about reconstructing his front mudguard.

Looks like we left a piece in the field.

Dave wasn't overly amused at my choice of location for a test ride, despite my argument that any landings would be softer.