Collecting the Bikes
Cape Town: where reality set in
Before the adventure truly began, there was a weird in-between period in Cape Town – no longer at home, but not yet on the road.
Months of preparation had led us here: gear tested, flights booked, routes vaguely mapped, motorcycles shipped halfway across the world.
And yet, until we saw the bikes again, the trip still felt theoretical.
Adventure stories often skip over the logistics – the customs forms, shipping agents, warehouse visits and endless waiting.
But standing in that industrial estate, the reality of what we were about to do finally landed.
“A warehouse in an industrial estate on the outskirts of Cape Town. A cavernous shed piled high with battered crates. Forklifts. Paperwork. More paperwork. The smell of oil, sweat and dust.
After months of planning, logistics, spreadsheets and late-night conversations about routes, visas and shipping schedules, it all came down to this – two wooden crates sitting on a grimy concrete floor.
Ruby and Schnauzer.
Our motorbikes departed Australia months before, sailing west across the Indian Ocean via the global shipping hub of Singapore, rounding the southern tip of Africa at the Cape of Good Hope, then continuing up the Atlantic to Cape Town.
Seeing them again – unremarkable to anyone else in that warehouse – felt oddly emotional. They carried more than fuel and luggage.
They carried intention. Possibility. A version of ourselves we were only just stepping into.”
Excerpt from: The Accidental Motorcyclist, 2026
Once the crates were opened, the bikes reassembled, and the engines turned over (there’s a story in that too – but you’ll have to read the book to find out how it went), there was no longer an easy way back into ordinary life.
The adventure had morphed from idea to reality.
