Salute to Touren-Fahrer
Outside Reiner's castle in January 2001, with the whole world still ahead of meWhen I started my second journey around the world one of my most enthusiastic supporters was Reiner Nitschke. This blond German legend of motorcycle magazine publishing was ensconced at the time in a castle not far from Bonn, and of course I had to vist him along the way. He had made the castle at Euskirchen the headquarters of his family of publications, and I would have like to ride up to the castle gates in full armour, with plumed helmet and lance at the ready, but unfortunately it was snowing. I had to leave my armour in favour of waterproofs, and on reflection I thought a lance on the autobahn might seem a little ridiculous. 
Reiner NitschkeEven though we had never met Reiner greeted me like a long-lost brother - like a knight about to leave for the crusades. Already he had made it possible for my book to be reprinted in German, and now he promised to publish something from me every month in Touren-Fahrer, his hugely successful magazine for motorcycle travellers and adventurers. And most importantly, he promised to pay me for it. And although I was a year late coming back he was true to his promise. Except for a few months when I was malingering in California, I had a page in Tourenfahrer every month. 
Markus BiebricherMy contact at Touren-Fahrer was an appealing young giant of a man called Markus Biebricher. It was his task to translate my words, and try to make something of the digital photographs I sent him. Often I had difficulty getting copy to him in time. Often the pictures were terrible. And Markus had to deal with this mess on top of his normal work of writing articles, testing bikes, and getting himself banged up in the line of duty. In spite of that Markus always treated me with enormous respect, and his emails were unfailingly kind, forgiving and encouraging. Because the picture resolution was always low, the pictures had to be printed small and the detail didn't show very well. In particular the Touren-Fahrer stickers faded into invisibility, until at last Reiner could stand it no longer. He became convinced that I had deliberately removed them, and nothing I could say would persuade him otherwise. So here finally is the evidence that Touren-Fahrer was not only in my mind and my bank account, but also on my bike.  At the pyramids in Cairo. You can just see the green and yellow decal On the road to Ethiopia. I had to use Photoshop to enhance the sticker. With Christophe Handschuh in Nairobi. By now I'd managed to get a bigger one. Mikumi, in Tanzania. Look Reiner, there it is again. In Argentina, on the road to Bariloche. It's still there. On the Pacific coast in Costa Rica. No way you could miss it here.Well, it's only a small thing. Too small to come between friends, I hope. Three magazines have helped me survive the last three years. Touren-Fahrer, Rider magazine and Classic Bike, and I have sung their praises everywhere I could, not just because they were nice to me, but because I think they really are the cream of the crop in their respective markets. When I finally returned in June to see the people at Touren-Fahrer, there was no castle any more. Like everything else in the world during those fateful years, Nitschke's enterprise had moved on, to a slick modern building in town. 
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