Motorcycle thoughts – Diversions

I had a rough idea where I was going. Or rather, I thought I did. After a couple of miles, it appeared.

The yellow sign.

DIVERSION

I sighed to myself. Typical. Today of all days.

You want the road to flow. You want the bends to come in the right order, the coffee to be waiting where you expected it to be, and to make it home in time for dinner.

So I indicated, turned off and followed the orange arrows. At first, rather reluctantly.

But before long, the road began to change.

The tarmac grew narrower. The traffic disappeared. The forest closed in around me and, suddenly, I found myself on a road I had never ridden before.

After a while, the landscape opened up. There, tucked away, was a small lake I had not even known existed.

A bench.

A jetty.

And a view that made me switch off the engine, just so I could listen to the silence.

It became one of those unplanned stops. They are usually the best kind. A little further on, a small café appeared.

Not the sort you find in tourist brochures, but one where the coffee was served in mismatched china cups and the buns looked as though they had come straight from someone’s kitchen.

I ended up sitting next to another motorcyclist. We had never met before. And yet we sat there for almost an hour, talking about everything under the sun. Motorcycles, of course, but also children, work, life and all those dreams that sometimes end up waiting a little too long.

When we went our separate ways, we wished each other a good ride. It occurred to me that we would probably never meet again.

And yet I am sure I will remember that encounter. Not because it changed the world, but perhaps because it made the day a little richer.

When I eventually rejoined the road I had originally intended to take, I realised something. If the road had not been closed, I would never have seen the lake.

I would never have found the café. I would never have met that man.

And I would probably have arrived home with exactly the same story as on so many other days:

“It was a nice ride.”

This time, it became something more.

It made me think about just how similar life and motorcycling really are.

We make plans. We draw maps. We set goals.

We like to find the straightest route between where we are and where we want to be. But life rarely seems to read our plans.

Relationships take unexpected turns. Jobs change. Dreams shift direction.

Things we would never have chosen for ourselves sometimes become the beginning of something that turns out to be far better than what we had originally imagined.

At the time, the diversion mostly feels like an obstacle. Further down the road, you sometimes realise that it was actually a gift. When I look back on my own life, it is rarely the straight stretches I remember.

It is the people I met when I was forced to change direction. The conversations that were never in the diary. The unexpected opportunities.

And the moments when life gently whispered:

“Take it easy. I’m not quite finished with you yet.”

Perhaps that is why I get a little less annoyed these days when that yellow sign appears. Of course, sometimes it means nothing more than queues, dust and a few extra miles.

But sometimes it means something entirely different. A new favourite road. A new smile. A new story.

Or perhaps simply a reminder that the fastest route is not always the best one.

Because, when all is said and done, we rarely remember how quickly we arrived.

We remember what happened along the way.

Diversions are not always about taking a wrong turn. Sometimes they are about life having something left to show you before you arrive.