Newsletter #1

Welcome to our first newsletter, and thanks so much for coming along for the ride!

As you know, over the past five months or so, I’ve been working on something that has challenged me in oh so many ways: writing a book. Although I blogged regularly during our 10-month trip, writing a book, it turns out, requires a completely different approach.

Some of you joined this mailing list because you followed our motorcycle adventure through Africa, Europe and the UK on Facebook or Instagram. Others may simply be curious about what on earth possessed two people in their sixties to ride motorcycles from the southern tip of Africa to the Arctic Circle and beyond.

Fair question.

What I’ve discovered through the writing process is that this was never just a story about motorcycles. Sure, the riding gave shape to the journey, but the deeper story (and the one I really love) became about attention, courage, uncertainty, connection and humanity.

I thought I’d use these newsletters not just to share updates about the book, but also some of the smaller stories and moments that shaped the journey along the way.

So here’s the first.

| Quiver Tree Forest, Namibia |

I’ve learned something just a little confronting while writing this memoir.

For most of my professional life, I’ve written like a lawyer or scientist – structured, analytical and reasonably emotionally contained. Early drafts of the manuscript sounded, in my editor’s words, somewhere between “policy paper” and “academic essay.”

Hmmmm.

So over the past months, I’ve been learning how to write differently. More honestly. More openly. Less focused on explaining the details, and more focused on how moments or situations actually felt. The process has been mildly terrifying.

I’ve joined a local writers’ group here in Gloucester, worked with my mentor and editor, Gina Balarin and spent many hours discovering that writing about vulnerability is considerably harder than writing modern slavery risk assessments.

Who knew?

But slowly, the book is becoming what I hoped it might become – not simply a record of where we travelled, but an exploration of what the journey revealed along the way.

And I’m genuinely grateful you’re here to share the adventure.

| Cape Town coast road to Cape L’Agullas, South Africa |

I’d always planned to buy myself a Vespa for my fiftieth birthday. The idea had lodged itself years earlier, after a trip to Italy, where scooters threaded through the streets. People of all ages rode them – upright, unhurried, completely at home in the chaos. It looked practical, joyful. A little rebellious. Sexy as hell.

The Vespa came to represent something more than transport – freedom, movement, and permission to take up space, unapologetically.

Before I could buy one, though, I needed to learn to ride. I enrolled in a motorcycle training program and climbed onto a little Honda 125. From the moment I rolled around the training course, I couldn’t stop smiling. My body knew before my head did – this was something I wanted more of. And it wasn’t just about riding. It was about stepping into something that felt uncertain – and choosing it anyway.

After I got my learner’s permit and bought the Vespa, Richard suggested we have a look at a motorbike, “just for fun”. He had spotted the glimmer in my eye during my training, and as an avid motorcyclist himself, he had an ulterior motive. He was right, too. Within hours of looking at bikes with him, I’d bought my first motorbike – a Yamaha MT07.

I kept the red Vespa, lovingly known as Fabio, too.

| Collecting my bike, Cape Town |

Richard and I have been working on The Accidental Motorcyclist website and are slowly adding new sections, including a short “About the Book” page and a collection of stories from the road.

I’ve really enjoyed revisiting these smaller moments from the trip and the insights they reveal in hindsight. Each story includes a short excerpt from the book, which I hope offers a glimpse into the larger journey behind it all.

I hope you enjoy them - and I’d genuinely love your feedback.

P.S. For now, we’re keeping these stories exclusive to newsletter subscribers and will continue adding new ones over the coming months. The link will go live at the end of June.

Click HERE to link to Stories from the Road.

If you’d like to reply, I’d also love to know:

Have you ever found yourself doing something later in life that your younger self would never have imagined?

Until next time,