What I will describe below may sound a little dramatic ... but all ended well in the end.
This story more or less commences on my return leg back to Greece from the BA.com rally in Andorra, at the end of July. It has been a few weeks since being released from hospital and am glad to be here to tell the story.
Since it was an America/Speedmaster rally it goes without saying I should have taken the Speedy, but it had been occasionally firing on one cylinder and I hadn't the time to take it to the dealers before leaving.
I was also riding through some pretty rough roads in the Balkans so I decided to take the GS 1200, a capable war machine for this type of terrain.
I had ridden from Greece, through the Balkans, southern Europe to the Iberian peninsula westwards to Portugal and then coming back westwards into the Pyrenees to Andorra.
On the Monday (30 July) we finished our "rally" and I left Andorra and went south-east to Barcelona to meet an artist friend (he had helped me fix my motorcycle several years ago).
I stayed there for an hour and had a coffee with him and then left Barcelona and was heading for Chamonix-Mont Blanc which is just below Geneva but still in France.
From Barcelona, the plan was to go to Chamonix - into Switzerland - Germany - Czech Republic - Austria - Hungary - Romania - Bulgaria and then down into Greece. (see yellow dotted line on map below).
It seems my body had other plans though.
Original intended homebound route through central Europe and Balkans (yellow dotted lines)
Going from Barcelona north into France I chose to go on secondary roads (for the most part) and keep off the boring highways.
I knew this would make an already long journey longer ... but that's me ... your lost street dog friend :-))
As I was heading north it was nearly midnight and it was getting very cold as I wasn't wearing my leather jacket yet (I was too lazy).
Eventually I put it on around 02:00 (you will see later why I am mentioning this).
Around 04:00 in the morning I stopped and found a hotel in Annecy - about an hour or so from Chamonix ... yes it was a looooong day.
The next morning I started to go to Chamonix - it was a very slow journey as I was feeling a bit sick (:ThrowUp:) and had a lot of pain in my lower abdomen (in the area where our appendix is).
After an hour I got to Chamonix - booked a hotel room ... and went straight to bed (at 11:00 in the morning).
Those that know me would know that I am a tough stray dog and that for me to go to bed before 02:00 in the morning ... there must be something very wrong.
I had hoped to hook up again with members Birdy68, Thatch and Bodger in Chamonix.
By this time I had pain all over my abdomen area - I thought it may have been a stomach cold (remember me not wearing my jacket?).
The following day (Wednesday) I decided something more serious is going on and decided to head back to Italy to get a ferry back home from Ancona and to forget the route through eastern Europe etc.
Actual return route from Chamonix back into Italy for ferry from Ancona to Patras in Greece (cyan/blue line).
That day I eventually reached Brescia in northern Italy (not a major achievement).
On the Thursday morning I left Brescia and headed for the port of Ancona from where I would get the ferry to Greece.
Now this journey normally takes about 4 hours ... but I did it in 19 (I am not joking).
I was unable to keep high speeds on the Autostrada so I took secondary roads and took it slow ... each bump in the road was painful.
Also, after Bologna I was stopping at gas stations every 20 km's to take a rest, it was that bad.
I eventually got to Ancona at 05:00 in the morning.
I went to the tourist port (not main port) and lay down on a park bench that I knew from other times I had been there.
It was actually a major effort to lay down and finally started to rest a bit.
As you will understand, I was already very tired from the journey and the pain had also exhausted me.
By this time I had realized my problem was much more serious than a stomach cold. I had pain all over my abdomen.
I started falling asleep and my last thoughts were (please forgive the drama but it's true) "If you die here on the park bench guy ... you go out with a smile"
I was thinking that I have had a great life until now and have no reason to complain as I have done things many people only dream of, or need 4 lifetimes to do.
So yes, as I was passing out I had a small smile on my face.
A moment later I heard the sound of a van's sliding door closing.
This was strange as it was still dawn and the whole area was dead.
I immediately thought that someone is stealing my bike.
I slowly got up but all was well with the bike.
Of course I was fully awake by now (the shock that someone was stealing my horse ... you see:-)) )
It was at this point that I decided to go to the local hospital which was about 4 km's from the port (I had seen it several times before and knew where it was).
So, I slowly rode my bike to the hospital (just like a wounded cowboy in the movies).
I don't know how I made it but I finally got to the doors of the emergency section of the hospital without falling off the bike.
I had to mentally plan how to stop the bike and simultaneously kick out the stand withought keeling over ... together with the bike on top of me.
I must have looked like a bus had hit me because the hospital staff rushed me in to a doctor for initial examinations.
The doctors did a sonar test and then a magnetic tomography and in 45 minutes I was in the operating theatre getting ready for surgery.
I was amazed at the efficiency of the doctors, they were already holding a meeting (2 surgeons and the initial doctor who examined me), when I came back from the tomography.
The surgeons told me my abdomen was full of Peritonitis and that they had to do surgery to clean it all up before my organs were poisoned and went into septic shock.
They were amazed I had been riding for 4 days in this condition.
I don't know if you know but Peritonitis can blow out your candle very quickly.
So, I spent 2 weeks on a wonderful vacation in the hospital in Ancona.
I also have a beautiful 30 cm (with about 55 stitches) souvenir line on my abdomen.
I am told women find scars sexy so it's time to check this theory out.
They cut a piece out of my lower intestine which had gone septic and was causing the peritonitis.
They sent this piece for biopsy and I got the results a few days ago.
All clean - no tumors or anything - but it does seems that I had this condition for quite a while, or so I am told.
One of my many new friends from the holiday resort (Ancona State Hospital)
This is Monica.
When I finally was released, the surgeons were pulling their hair out because I was going to ride my bike to the port.
What did they expect, that I would leave my horse behind???
Anyway, I am not stupid. This was just a small test for my strength as the port was only 4 km's away.
The ferry left Ancona late afternoon so I had a good (another) rest for the next 24 hours.
The next evening when I finally reached Patras port in Greece I rode another 200 km's to Athens. All ok (I took it very slowly - 7 hours instead of the normal 3).
Like I said to Lee/Birdy68 during one of our phone conversations while in hospital ... a good captain always brings his ship home.
(We had examined the possibility of hooking up again somewhere in Italy (or wherever) a couple of weeks or so after the BA rally, so I called him with the news).
There is a lesson in all this for me.
If you'll forgive the dramatics but when the thought entered my head that I may be "checking out" ... I was at peace with myself and above all, content.
So here I am ... again waiting for the bullet that will take me out (maybe haha!).
. 
and I'm joyful that you recovered
