Two Idiots on a UK Motorcycle Road Trip to the Ferry: Spa Hotels, Wind Battles & Cheese Scone Regrets
- Jun 12, 2025
- 3 min read
And we’re off… kind of.
The trip to Ireland BikeFest 2025 was officially underway — well, the UK motorcycle road trip to the ferry part, at least. We were leaving County Durham and heading to Holyhead in Wales, where we’d booked ourselves into an actual spa hotel. No tent. No horsebox. No waking up with condensation dripping on our faces. Just clean sheets, hot water, and the chance to feel slightly civilised for one night.
We had the full day to get there and, in true Two Idiots style, had planned absolutely none of the route — only the destination. Our strategy was: ride the most interesting roads, avoid motorways if possible, and see what happens. The goal was to enjoy the scenic ride through the North Pennines. The reality? Well…
Naturally, things didn’t get off to a smooth start.
My Dainese back protector was meant to arrive the day before. Did it? Of course not.
New ETA: before 12pm Thursday. Cue me glaring out the window like someone waiting for a Chinese takeaway on a Friday night. When it finally showed up — bang on 12 — we were out the door faster than you can say, “We probably forgot something.”
The delay turned out to be a blessing. The rain cleared, and with no schedule, we could still enjoy our UK motorcycle road trip to the ferry without rushing. We loosely followed a similar route to one from an earlier surprise trip to Wales, but with extra twists and plenty more wind.
The North Pennines was amazing: epic roads, beautiful views, and just enough random bumps to make the whole thing feel like an adult-sized rollercoaster. Deon was in his element, taking on every curve with a grin.
We stopped at a lovely little cafe for coffee and scones. Deon, ever the classicist, got the good kind — jam and cream. Me? I randomly fancied a change and ordered a cheese scone. Why? Who knows. It tasted like disappointment. Luckily, we both enjoyed Deon's.
When we finally hit Wales, the wind really kicked off. And by the time we got to the Britannia Bridge, we were practically being launched sideways. Only then did we see the “motorcyclists beware” sign. Bit late, kids. Deon enjoyed the chaos. I was very thankful for my back protector and slightly heavier breakfast.
We rolled up to the hotel just after reception had closed, of course, but the place was gorgeous (and a total bargain thanks to booking.com wizardry). After a long day of riding, we did what any classy couple do in a spa hotel: ordered Dominos and ate it in bed. Five stars, would recommend.
The next day was a proper recharge. Route sketching (ish), lounging in the sauna, relaxing in the jacuzzi, and — unbelievably — sunbathing in Wales. In May. We finally felt like we were on holiday. That illusion lasted until Deon jammed his phone into a locker and cracked the screen. Obviously. Normally not a big deal, except that was our sat nav and Deon's music for the trip. Looks like we’ll be winging it a little harder now.
Still, we made it to the ferry on time, bike loaded and ready to go. Next stop: Ireland, baby — but that’s a story for the next blog.
So, if you fancy seeing some amazing North Pennine roads, sunbathing in Wales, and a couple of idiots nearly getting blown off a bridge — watch the video here. Or even better,
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