In November 2009 Three Bikers Billy, Ben and John from Tipperary decided to challenge their skills and take on a road trip. Over a couple of pints of Guinness " too many" an idea was put forward  to drive from Tipperary Town to Timbuckto which was later discovered  "when Sober" was in central Mali in Africa. That in its self was not off putting but then they found another potential problem, in that there was a Civil war on in Mali and not wanting to get shot dead John said No! Over a Long debate and more Guinness "again too many" it was decided to avoid Mali and drive to Tan Tan Morocco but come back through Portugal to Santander in Northern Spain and get a ferry to England, and from there to Wales for the ferry home just in case it was too easy driving in the desert. All agreed we set the plan in motion and duly handed over the planning stage to Tara, Ben's Life Partner and known to be well capable of such a huge task. As the Plan came together Ben would drop a few hints but reckoned  the surprise would be worth waiting for and to keep the first three weeks in October 2010 free.  As news went around the then smaller biking community in Tipp," they all said it couldn't be done", and words like mad were used. 
 

The first of October arrived and accompanied by some good friends they headed for the Ferry at Rosslare to Rosscoff France. Day one dawned on the French coast and it was raining very heavily so the three Amigos headed south and as it was particularly hard to drive with the weather, the first over night was spent in Rennes. Day two saw a better morning and the lads hit the road again making it to Bayonne, near the Spanish Border. Day three dawned and what a morning with the tail end of a hurricane hitting the usually pleasant French coast the morning was spent watching for a break in the weather and at lunchtime that break came and the Bikes were loaded and just as they were leaving town the heavens again opened, conditions were particularly hazardous on the E70 south to the Spanish Border but after a couple of hundred Kilometres the Skies cleared and the leathers began to dry off, at days end they arrived in the lovely old Roman town of Segovia just south of Vallodolid. Day four dawned and the bikes were loaded at seven am and after an English Breakfast at a small little Caf they again headed south towards Madrid and a welcome bed in Granada, with a handy day next day to Algeciras and the ferry to Ceuta a Spanish enclave in northern Morocco.

After getting through the customs in Ceuta the lads headed for the Atlas mountains to Chefchaoun and what an experience that was, on a narrow mountain road in the dark as they climbed to the small town in the mountains, being over taken on blind hairpin bends by the local taxi drivers while being caught behind the 1950s trucks which are ridiculously overloaded and trying not to kill the locals walking along the road side in black clothes with their Donkeys and panniers. Eventually exhausted they pulled into town, to the call to prayer from the local Mosque. Day seven and again a dawn start has the lads heading south via Barrage El Whada and some of the best biking roads in the world to the East Atlas National park, to Fes and then Meknes and a welcome beer the first since they arrived in Morocco. Day eight and they are on the N13 to Beni Mellal and the High Atlas National park. Day nine sees the lads on the road to Marrakesh and the first experience of city traffic in Morocco again for experienced motorcyclists an eye opener which has Ben, a Garda for thirty years and a motorcycle instructor scratching his head. Day ten has the bikes headin out to the Tizi n Tikha pass, or the road of death, and on to Ouarzazate. Day eleven and its on through the Toubkal National Park to  Agadere and the coast. Day twelve has the lads on the road to Tan Tan and an interesting encounter with a police officer of dubious character, after an allegation of failing to yield on a roundabout and a demand for a 70 derham fine he was politely told, that no such offence was committed and on production of papers and a demand as to their professions he decided that he may have been hasty and the lads headed to El Questa or Tan Tan Port, at this point Johns bike started to give trouble and failed to start but a quick bump has him in hot persuit of the two lads.This being the furthest south the military would allow, the bikes turned North for the first time and back to Agadere. Day thirteen and its on to Casablanca and what was to be the most frightening experience ever in city traffic, one  which had Ben declare that this is lunacy and the day was abandoned to a cold beer.

Day fourteen and its heading back to Ceuta and the ferry to Spain, leaving the port of Algeseris next stop is Gibraltar and the Blackbird decides it is not going any further, she just died in the middle of the tunnel and lucky for John he made it to the left lane and that he is a big bugger as he pushed it up hill for at least one hundred meters as the lads had to keep going and had nowhere to stop he was on his own on the white line in the middle of an eight lane carriageway during the rush hour. Did he panic? No, he just waited till a break came in traffic and then sprinted to the side of the carriage way to be met by the Guarda Civil, then he started to panic! In a mixture of English, Spanish, French and Irish he tried to explain that it was an electrical problem and the bike would not drive, With that the two lads appeared and the police decided that to go into the port and come back out and close two lanes of traffic would be the best option that would let John push the bike to the nearest off ramp and to safety. In full leathers and lid the big man took on the task and pushed the bike almost a kilometer to the nearest off ramp. In a lather of sweat and reunited with his mates the battery was removed and the two police officers agreed to drive John to the nearest Carrefoure for a new battery, the new one fitted the Bird burst back into life and the three Amegios were back on the road, with a police escort to the nearest hotel. A lot of cold beer and a debate as to the sanity of big man's actions brought a very eventful day to a close.

Day fifteen and the lads are off to see Gibraltar, after a tour around the rock the lads head into the centre only for the "bird" to die again. After an English breakfast and a recci of the local bike shops the day was again abandoned to a pub, with no parts available for at least a week, a cunning plan was devised by Billy, to run the bike off a car battery, over a few more pints it was decided it was possible if everything but the engine management system was disconnected. Day sixteen and and with a car battery and the lights disconnected the lads are back on the road north and home. Driving between Ben and Billy, the three made it all the way to Merida in Spain without a hitch and then a search for a battery charger to charge the car battery over night. Day seventeen was decided to be a rest day, to see the sights of Merida, a lovely old Roman town. Day eighteen and with the car battery charged the lads head north to Santander and the ferry to Plymouth arriving a day early for the ferry, Day nineteen was again a rest day, Day twenty sees the lads on the ferry and early next morning dock in England, then all Ben's navigation skills come to bare as road works in Plymouth make life hell, but true to form he has it figured out and they are heading up the M5 for Exeter and Weston Super Mare, over the Severn Bridge into Wales and on to Pembroke for the ferry to Rosslare.

Dawn on day twenty one and the lads are back in Paddy's green land to be welcomed back by friends Mary and Billy who had a welcome cuppa waiting, as the morning brightened they were able to take on the short run home to the arms of loved ones. would they do it again???? YES. WHO SAID IT COULDN'T BE DONE???.