The PCRF Healing Hearts Initiative

The PCRF Healing Hearts Initiative

22,000 kilometres, 90 days, 30 countries in aid of sick and injured children from the Middle East

The Final Leg
Past lake Schroder and into Montenegro, a country of awe inspiring beauty that cannot fail to take your breath away. The roads are amazing, sweeping bends with steep inclines; a joy after the bad road conditions of Albania. From Kotor I took the steep mountain road up to the black mountain. Stopping at a viewpoint over the bay of Kotor and met a group of young people on a tour with a local guide called Slavco. I was invited to tag along; the fun started up on the black mountain at the monument to their past king, to get in at a cheaper rate Slavco told the ticket sales that the group were students and that I was their professor, so for two days I had an honorary Montenegrin Phd, we had a great time, which culminated in white water rafting in the Tara Canyon part of the Durmitor national park, it was a real buzz.

On into Bosnia and the country that was devastated by a terrible war in the late 1980's to early 1990's. I stayed in Mostar a town that formed the front line between the Bosnians and the Croats and Serbs. A significant amount of reconstruction has been done, however the wanton distruction and cruelty of war is evident all around with the numerous memorials to the fallen and bombed it buildings, left as a reminder to to the futility of war for all to see. Mostar and the neighbouring town of Blagaj are well worth a visit.

Croatia beckoned and a fleeting visit to Split was followed by a very memorable ride up the coast road to the border of Slovenia. The weather was being kind to me and I made good progress. Desert Rose purred along without any complaint; despite the 350kg load.

Slovenia is described as a miniature Europe in one small Country and the change of cenery at the border is distinct, going from the somewhat craggy and rocky mountainous terrain to a green pastures and small neat villages, very clean and well kept, small country and small roads, I shot on past the capital to my lakeside destination of Bled in the North.

Chris my son in law informed me there was a reporter waiting to interview me in Milan, my next major destination, so I put in the coordinates given and raced across Northern Italy at a pace, arriving in plenty of time for the 7pm interview; unfortunately the coordinates took me to a location near Lake Como 60 kilometres away. A hot and frustrating 2 hours later I arrived at the Ramada Milano, rushing in to meet the reporter I approached the counter and then heard “surprise” called out from behind me. It was my youngest daughter Jessiny. The tiredness and frustration disappeared in an instant as I hugged her, not quite believing my eyes. Jess explained my wife had not been able to make it and engaged me in conversation whilst she led me though the hotel grounds to my room; in the garden she said “happy Father's Day dad” and then as she turned me around there was my wife sitting on a garden chair smiling. What a fantastic surprise and four days of mini holiday followed with part of my family, it was a great tonic for me and gave me a refill ready for the final month of the journey.

Waving goodbye from the Ramada Milano I set off for a ride through Switzerland to Southern Germany and Freiburg, my next destination. Past the Italian lakes, I arrived in a garage and discovered a loose nut, so I took off the lid of the pannier only to discover that all of the aerosol white lithium grease had dispensed itself in amongst the tools and spare parts. An hour of a very messy clean up ensued during which I met another biker who recommended I take the San Bernard pass and I am so glad that I did, this pass is 2,500m, wow what a fantastic road and the views of the alps were incredible. Stopping for a cappuccino and a bar of Swiss chocolate I met more bikers and holidaymakers, the father North I travelled the more people who commented on the Dubai registration plate and asked me about the journey.

A day in the Black Forest meeting some friends I friends I had met in Goreme, Turkey and on through 5 countries in one day to the Gross Glockner in Austria. I found a decent camp site and stayed and extra day to do some maintenance on the bike. Desert Rose felt tired to me and the engine was lacking power, down to about 60% I could not get her over 100 kph and hills were a struggle. After another night in the tent I stripped her and checked everything I could without a major overhaul. All seemed to be in order, so back together and a test without luggage to experience the Gross Glockner roads, which are well known in Europe to motorcyclists. Without the luggage she felt better, but after a few minutes I realised the only difference was the weight reduction, I pushed on and enjoyed the views and scenery in the mountains, reaching 2,500 meters for the third time on the journey.

Vowing to stop at then exit major town with a motorcycle shop on the Monday (it was now Saturday 22nd June), I set off over the mountain pass and on into central Austria, the weather decided to change on me and it started to rain, which got heavier and heavier. Stopping for petrol I had a bite to eat in the garage and refuelled, hoping the rain would abate, but it just got worse and the thunder started to get closer. Deciding to push on I jumped back on the bike, already wet through; about 10 kilometres along the road the bike started to misfire, there was nowhere to stop, visibility was pour and the rain was bucketing down, then she just died on me. I managed to manoeuvre her just off the road and cars zoomed past sending up sheets of water to add to my misery. two and a half hours later, cold and drenched, mobile dead from the soaking, camera ruined and my sat phone not working properly I decided it would be dark soon and I had to make a move so I took off 40kgs of luggage in a series of bags and stated to walk. Despite the somewhat cold conditions I was soon sweating profusely in my motor cycle gear with a second layer of waterproofs, that were no longer waterproof, wet and tired I struggled on until I came to an emergency helicopter station. Thankfully they spoke good English and let me use their phones to get a rescue truck out to help.

Ten minutes later I was in the town of Bischofshofen and my bike was left at a motorcycle workshop. The driver had another callout, so I quickly unloaded my numerous bags in a pile on the steps of a small hotel and got my soggy wallet out of my pocket. Getting dark by this stage I gave the driver what I thought was a hundred Euros + the rest, only to find out later that in the wet two notes had stuck together, so the driver got a thumping 100 Euro bonus, lucky him. No room in the inn was the message I got from the hotels around the town square and the only tiny room available was 80 Euros and this was well over my daily budget. I managed to find a bed and breakfast place for a very reasonable 15 euros a night, the only trouble was I had to walk there, so picking up my voluminous luggage again, I set off the one and a half kilometres to the house. I slept really well that night!

Two and a half weeks followed, stuck in Bischofshofen with many frustrations, first we had to find out what was wrong and this involved removing the engine due to a lack of compression and then I needed to get the parts. The workshop were amazing, to save me money they let me do all the work, use their tools and gave me advice and help when needed. The bill would have been over 2,000 Euros, but by shipping parts out from my spare bike in Dubai (thank you Trading Enterprises Honda for preparing the cylinder heads and a big thank you to Aramex for getting the parts to me really quickly) I managed to do the whole repair for 400 Euros. I am proud to have done 95% of the work myself.

The loss of time meant I had to re-plan the final part of the journey and I had to get to UK in 3 days so with brief stops in Prague and long days on the bike I made it to Calais in time for the ferry I had booked to England.

Finally on the 11th July after 3 long months since the start of the journey I had made it to British soil. Three days in London; then down to my home town in Fowey, for a reception with friends and family.

I am proud of what has been achieved with the Healing Hearts Journey. To date in excess of $130,000 has been raised towards the paediatric cardiac unit in Gaza and fundraising continues. I have spoken to 1,000s of students and spread awareness in many countries. We have crossed a cultural divide in the awareness campaign and people following of the journey. You can donate by going to www.pcrf.net/hhjourney and view the web site at www.healingheartsjourney.org

Into Eastern Europe
The Journey to the Bulgarian border was not without its drama. It was baking hot and the city traffic stretched for a good 50 kilometers. As the traffic thinned and I hit the motorway to catch up time the heavens decided to open again and the rain this time combined with the wind was even worse than the last major storm, even cars were sheltering from the hail under the motor way bridges. I stopped as I was soaked through and unable to see more than a few yards and the wind was really strong. My foot slipped when putting the bike on its stand as there was hail and wet on the road and I was pinned by the groin a car next to me, just able to hold the weight as the handlebar pressed into my groin. I bashed on the car window and instead of getting out to help me the driver started to move off; I bashed even harder and somebody got out and realizing my predicament helped me to right the bike. No damage to the car and all was well.

 

On through Bulgaria and one stop on the black sea coast near Sozopol enabled me to appreciate that it really is a bug’s world out there. There were so \many mosquitos I was bitten everywhere there was exposed skin and got straight into the tent. On to Romania, where I visited two places of interest at Brasov and Sibiu, both well worth a visit, it hardly stopped raining all the time I was there. I had been warned about dogs roaming the streets and to be careful, however only had one incident whilst going up a steep road through the forest I came upon a coach stop, a dog shot out with no warning and missed me by a foot or so , thinking I was in the clear I breathed a sigh of relief, only to find as I went carefully around the switchback in the road that not only but two dogs were giving chase, my boot came out and the dog avoided it by inches and in my panicked moment I opened the throttle too quickly and popped a wheelie, not the best thing with 350 kg bike on a greasy mountain road.

After saying farewell, I was knocked off “”Desert Rose” in the next town by a car. My foot was trapped under the pannier and the engine was racing, so I twisted around and hit the kill switch to stop the engine. The driver was very good and rushed around and tried to pick up the bike off my foot, but it was too heavy, he got it far enough to slide my foot out and then another guy came along to help and righted the bike. I was fine, hand and one arm a bit sore, but my foot had been saved by my sturdy motorcycle boots. The bike was fine except for some scratches and a broken indicator, that had been fixed only 15 minutes earlier. I carried on looking for the Monastery in Decan, but after passing a KFOR army check point guarding the road to the Monastery I found it was closed.

I spent two days in MacedoniaI met some traditional loggers, bare footed and lazing in the sun, waiting for a truck to collect there horse laden wood piles. One of the loggers sat on the bike and he got me to hold onto his horsed, I was a lot less at homer with one horse power than he was with 60Saw a Stork with its nest on top of a telegraph pole (hope it had permission from the local electricity authority). The it was over the mountains and into Northern Greece. Two days in Greece with a visit to the amazing Monasteries placed high up on the pinnacles of rock in Meteora. In one of the monasteries they display the skulls of the departed in a room below the church, all a bit eerie if you ask me.

Albania was everything I could have hoped for and more, contrary to warnings I found the people to be kind generous and helpful. The roads vary from really good completely impassable. Berat was an amazing old Ottoman city; on arrival, I lost footing on a steep road with grit and smooth marble cobbles and over went the bike. Two Italian guys from an Italian rally team helped me right the bike; petrol was leaking from the tank, they smoked cigarettes whilst helping me, it was a close escape! Then on the most exciting ride of the trip so far, across the Cursed Mountains, a small remote village called Thethi. The road, opened for two days due to the snow, I was told it was fine; there followed the most frightening, exhilarating and dangerous part of the trip so far, with knee deep mud, slippery rocks, large stones and ruts from water erosion and huge drop offs, two and a half hours on the track, needless to say, there was not much traffic!

 

Staying in cottage with no mains electricity and a candle in the bedroom, bread cooked in the wood burner oven and natural honey straight from the bee hive and milk straight from the cow was a fantastic experience, I also met some new friends there from Germany and spent a day hiking with them. The journey back over was even more exhilarating than the trip over as the sun w2as out and I could see the drop offs and mountains in their glory. I will never forget these few days in the beautiful and wild mountains of Albania.

Into Eastern Europe with Richard and Healing Heart

I had to plan to get back to Istanbul by the 18th May as I as due to speak at a Tedex conference to speak about the Palestine Children’s relief Fund (PCRF) and the reasons for the journey, which to remind everybody is to build a Paediatric Cardiac unit in Gaza Palestine. Fund raising had gone well and we had a lot of personal donations and companies getting on board. During the journey a number of events are planned to raise awareness and to raise funds; Tedex Istanbul being the first. 

 

The UAE chapter of the PCRF currently have 2 cases in country, 15 year old Ghadeer who is here for plastic reconstructive surgery and 5 year old Rashad who is here for an operation on his left ankle as he has a birth defect. Rashad is here with his aunt while Ghadeer is staying with a volunteer host family. Both cases are complex and require several months of treatment before they go back home to Palestine.

It took until the 3rd customs area to clear the bike. Aramex did a great job, it a not easy to get a bike out of the customs area.  At one stage I been told it was not possible to clear the bike ithout insurance; I was then told the only way to get the bike cleared was to get green card insurance out of UAE, which would mean flying back, getting it and then flying in again. I patiently insisted that there must be a way, whilst feeling that gutted feeling in my stomach, (oh no not again). I had tried to get insurance in the UAE, but nobody would do it, so even I came back, it would not happen. I spent the evening on the internet and came up with a couple of options, but all would take a few days/ a week and I was desperate to get moving.

Patience paid off, a few more phone calls and I was driven for an hour to another district in Istanbul and for the princely sum of 33 Turkish Lira I had 3 months of insurance for Turkey. I still had to get green card insurance for the rest of the trip but a told this could be obtained at the border.

So Istanbul had been amazing and I had seen the sites whilst waiting for the bike and it was time to get moving, the bike a uncrated the same day it arrived at Aramex depot. It was good to be moving, even if going a slow initially in the Istanbul traffic. Istanbul has a population of around 17 million.

The first day I relied on the GPS, however I had just learned to use the software, I had had a great tour of Northern Turkeys farming communities. Now using the map and occasional glances at the GPS I was making good progress.

I made it to Gallipoli, the site of that most horrendous First World War blunder; it is now a peaceful fishing town in the Dardanelles and other than monuments and signs, at first glance you would never know the history of the sad and inglorious past.

Across the water, in the evening sun light and on to Izmir in the failing light. Setting up camp in the dark I was all set in about 45 minutes, when putting the bike into the tent I dropped it on its side, in the confined pace and not wanting to damage the tent it proved impossible to lift and I eventually found two guys to somewhat reluctantly lift it.

The first day riding had been great, but I wanted to get it right, so having reprogrammed the GPS, and marked up a map I set off using a combination of common sense, the map and the GPS, not necessarily in that order, it paid off and I had an amazing days ride.

So far I have covered 2,900 kilometers around beautiful Turkey and I have experienced genuine warmth and a welcome that to be honest I do not ever remember having received in any other Country. Despite language difficulties; I have had a repair done to the motor bike and the shop proprietor would not take any money, I have been given tea at just about every stop and not been charged for it. A lorry driver gave up an hour of his time to help me, I was given free food in a restaurant, A Guy who I got talking to leant me a difficult to find piece for my special camera, trusting me to send it back to him, which I did yesterday and on my return to Istanbul a Turkish biker stopped me and asked if I needed any help and spent the next 2 hours taking me around to get new reading glasses, get a spare part for the bike and to find my hotel. If you add to this the wonderful sites I have seen, the initial issues experienced with missing out four Countries are now long forgotten.

I have been to the city of the wooden horse, visited the town of Assos the scene of that great battle, visited the temple to Athena at Bergama, been to the Capital of ancient Asia Minor in the footsteps of great men such as Alexander the Great and Hadrian at Ephesus, I have bathed in the ancient pool at Hierapolis, the same natural spring water that legend has it Cleopatra used to regain her failing youth. I have seen the most amazing scenery in Cappadocia and the Black sea coast.

So far I have been rained on, hailed on, been in the middle of a thunder storm I got lost and have ridden up a canyon meant only for walkers, and when I could get no further had to turn around and do it the other way.

Just before getting back to Istanbul for Tedex, I fell off the bike and after taking all of the luggage and panniers off managed to lift it’s not insignificant weight of about 250kg up and right it myself. I have been on road and off road and everywhere I go I tell the people the reason I am doing the ride. People have given me donations along the way. That is in just the first two weeks in Turkey.

2 days in Istanbul for Tedex, which went off very well and a meeting with the PCRF Istanbul chapter and I was off to the Bulgarian boarder.

PCRF Event Update

13th April:
Just prior to departure my front tooth cracked and fell out, with the result that I had to have an extraction and implant on the morning of my leaving function. So to my leaving on the 13th with stitches in my gum and palate I went!

The actual leaving function was fabulous, with Sheraton Jumeirah Beach doing us proud. The setting and the F&B were great. A big thank you to them for support providing all for the function free of charge. We had loads of entertainment and a ride in and ride with the press, including City 7 TV present.

The morning of the departure 14th April 2013:
Well the journey began in something of a rush. Late with packing and doing last minute repairs to the bike just before leaving.

I kissed my wife goodbye quickly as there was no time for long goodbyes. (Sorry Darling – again!)
We were off to the port and it was 3.15 pm, we should really have been at the port 15 minutes ago. No sweat, Sharjah is not too far right? Unfortunately Sharjah is a very long way in the traffic. If I was a delivery boy it would have been relatively straight forward, however teetering off down the road on my 335 kilogram juggernaut it was plain that bobbing and weaving should not be on the agenda. My friend Sumit Mitra was riding shot gun on his very smart looking Harley chopper.

But like any adventures it is not without its challenges and the first was to get to Sharjah port, regardless of the heat, discomfort, the traffic and the fact that we were late. We pushed hard and made it to the Port at 3.45 pm. I was glad of the company of Sumit just in case something went wrong, (somewhat ironic, when, for the rest of the 22,000 kilometers I would on my own)

The Ferry to Iran:
The security to get the bike in and onto the ferry was very straight forward.
To my pleasant surprise there was a small shop and I got a bench seat bagged for myself, by dumping my not insignificant amount of hand carrying baggage on the seat. A meal was served, simple but wholesome of rice and chicken, with a drink and an orange. Adrenalin and excitement kicked in; after months of preparation I was on my way, so for all but 2 hours of the 10 hour trip I busied myself programming my new phone and the sat phone with essential numbers.

My Iranian day 15th April 2015:
On arrival I disembarked with the other passengers and walked into the immigration building only to find a long queue. Unfortunately my passport along with a bunch of others was taken away and we were ushered to wait outside an office, that I later found out was the terminal police office for immigration.
Well my luck was not going to hold out. Despite having all my paperwork in order, the authorities decided in their wisdom to turn me away. I spent a long day in the terminal building in Bandar E Abbas before being put back on the ferry I had arrived on that morning.

My passport was handed back to me at 8.15 pm (a full 12 hours since I had last had it in my hand) and I was taken through a side door to the embarkation area, never having received a stamp in my passport. The uniformed police man came up to me and let me out with a smile. I was to be first in the throng of waiting passengers to be allowed out and onto the ferry. Thank goodness desert rose was there as I had left her, untouched and still lashed down with securing straps.

No reason was given and the authorities in Iran were always polite and pleasant. I have no complaints: I did however have a sick feeling in my stomach, with months of preparation and a huge amount of my money spent I was scuppered at the first border.

The Ferry back to Sharjah 15th – 16th April 2013:
I fully relaxed when the ferry departed and I was on my way back. Once on the ferry I went upstairs and grabbed a bench seat and sat down with sigh of relief. After a simple meal, I had not eaten since about 7 am that morning and it was now gone 10 pm, I wolfed down the food and lay down. I woke up again at 5.30am, I must have been totally exhausted, that’s the most sleep in one night I have had for weeks!

Sharjah Port 16th April:
Turns out I needed it. Thank goodness for Mahmoud, a 60 year Port officer at the Sharjah port, who after I had waited two and half hours in a queue to be stamped back in and having been sent from building to building to get clearance for the bike, he took pity on me and decided to help me. Thank goodness he did, there is a system, which is great if you know it, but it is at least a 10 stage process with different counters, buildings and cashiers. With Mahmoud’s guiding hand, I sped through the process in about an hour and soon had my gate pass and all paperwork in order. Thank you Mahmoud; you really saved me what would have taken several hours of frustration, that I was not in the mood for after my Iranian experience.

So there you have it, in a few words the start of the Healing Hearts journey hits a brick wall. We will not let this stop us however.
Disappointed? Yes desperately.
Down hearted? Never the journey will continue; but how?

The reality sinks in:
Back at my home everything had been packed away. The reality sank in. This is a real blow. I had to work out my option and start planning immediately.

My options were:
1. Try Iran again. (I was assured and checked at the Iranian Consulate that my visa and papers were in order) This was again reconfirmed.
2. Ride through Saudi, ferry to Egypt and then through Egypt and a ferry to Turkey
3. Fly the bike to the next destination possible on the route (My Azerbaijani visa was for two days only and from the 28th April for one month)
4. Ship the bike by sea to Southern Turkey.
5. Reverse the journey and ride back to UAE shipping the bike by sea to UK

The following days were filled with numerous phone calls and meetings and the options slowly fell away until I was left with one practical option; this due to time and other constraints. To fly the bike to the next destination possible along the route and adjust the journey accordingly. As I am speaking at Tedex in Istanbul on the 18th May and we are having some fund raisers there this is the first location where there is a time constraint and a must not miss this location.

I spoke with several companies. My resolve was being severely tested as more than a week had past and I was really no closer to a solution. Then on the evening of the 24th; 10 days after I had departed for Iran I got the news I had been waiting for; Aramex confirmed that as part of their CSR program they will fly the bike to Istanbul at their cost. Thank you so much to Aramex for this kind and humanitarian act puts the Healing Hearts Journey back on track.

Aramex had already done to shipments for me free of charge and had saved the day just before departure, by bringing an essential spare part for Desert Rose from UK in record time. So I have been rescued twice by the same company.

27th April – crating the bike for airfreight:
The bike was drained of fuel and the battery disconnected, then parts removed do it would fit in the crate and the bike was loaded onto the Aramex truck to go to Cargo Village for flying out on 29th April to Istanbul.

28th April – fly out to Istanbul:
Fly Dubai to Istanbul to meet the bike and start the journey when it arrives. So the Healing hearts Journey begins again today.

“My name is Richard Mitchell, as a 56 year old father and grandfather with a zest for life and adventure I will embark on an adventure, riding my fully customized Honda Africa twin, nicknamed “Desert Rose” from Dubai to home in Fowey, in Cornwall, United Kingdom, across 30 countries over 90 days, beginning in early April 2013”.

This gruelling solo and unsupported, 22, 000 km motorcycle journey is in support of sick and injured children in the Middle East, who unlike us, do not have access to decent medical facilities.

“I am fully funding the adventure myself including all costs for the motorcycles, modifications necessary, the provisions and travel expenses, these are being paid by me from my personal money. This means that all funds raised will go entirely towards benefiting the children and to the building of the new Paediatric Cardiac Unit in Gaza."

What is it all about?
“After 26 years in the Middle East, I consider myself very fortunate to have had a secure and happy family life; I have been able to educate and bring up my children in a safe multicultural environment; one that has benefited them tremendously, I feel it is now time for me to give something back and bring attention to the less fortunate children in the region, whose basic needs go unmet daily. Sick and injured children suffer unnecessarily; many are dying, due to the lack of adequate medical care and facilities and I intend to make a difference and do something about it”

Taking 8 months off work before returning to the UAE after the journey he is dedicating my time fully to the cause.

As well as raising funds towards the much needed Paediatric Cardiac facility and associated medical missions, he aims to generate awareness of the good work being done by the Palestine Children’s Relief Fund (PCRF). He is excited and enthusiastic about the charity and the adventure.

“Recognising the challenges I will face. I feel that this will, in a small way enable me to better understand the everyday life struggles of the less fortunate children I am aiming to support”.

The Journey will see him riding through a total of 30 Countries: Iran, Azerbaijan, Georgia, Armenia, Turkey, Greece, the Balkans, then covering central and southern Europe, crossing central to Northern Europe and back to UK.

The gruelling journey will involve riding through treacherous terrain and temperature extremes ranging from the heat of the desert to the extreme cold conditions Northern Iran and the Caucuses.

“Unsupported and completely Solo, I will carry everything I need for the journey, including spares, tools and (hopefully) enough knowledge to fix any problems along the way.”

 

Why this charity?
Richard wanted to find a charity which is a non-profit, non-political, cross cultural organization with a proven track record of providing help to children in need. The perfect match was found with the PCRF who have many years of experience and have helped numerous children to have a healthier and happier life.

“My chosen charity, the PCRF, is a non political International organization with an established track record of success, I feel honoured to have been accepted as a part of an established and growing community of like minded individuals with a vision for a brighter future for all of these children”

Please take the time to visit www. PCRF.net and experience the amazing work being done by 1,000’s of volunteers around the world.

How will he manage completely alone and unsupported?
On the journey he will definitely experience hardship, physical and mental stress and discomfort and testing and trying situations, these will require will power and determination to continue with the challenge.

“In a small way this will enable me to reflect on the challenges and suffering experienced by these less fortunate children on a daily basis”.

With mind, body and the logistical preparations sorted, doing this for such a fantastic cause and having the great PCRF team behind, nothing will stop me successfully completing this challenge.

Stay connected, follow The Journey:

These are the relevant communication channels for the Healing Hearts Journey and links to the PCRF:
There will be a daily blog with photos and videos and the bike and he will have tracking devices. The tracking will be linked to the web site that will enable people who are interested to do so, to follow Richard on the journey on a daily basis.

Richard will also be doing a blog for children as this is about helping them.

"I intend to make sure that we connect with the children we are helping and show them that people do care. This will eventually be made into a book to be given as a memento to the children we are helping. I intend to go to Palestine to deliver this message in person."

“Together we will make a difference”