The United Kingdom
At the time of my decision to take a motorcycle tour through Europe, I was in the early phases of founding one of the biggest operations I had ever attempted: a global network of engineers and agencies to be able to manage any technical project put in front of us. It was going very well and I had made some good hires. It was around my time in the Highlands that I realized if I continued to go deeper I would compromise the company, and in earnest I was quite physically exhausted by this point. So I did what exactly what nobody touring the UK on motorcycle would do: I rode full speed - 1 (about 95mph / 150kph), because 96mph was the speed at which was the speed at which the bike would start to shake a little, for 7 hours straight on the highway without visiting a single sight, listening to and singing to “A Whole New World” the entire time, since singing at the top of your lungs while wearing a motorcycle helmet going nearly 100mph on a highway you don’t really have to worry about anyone hearing you. Now I sing this song really well. I do both parts.
Of course there is a limit to how long one can ride a motorcycle at full speed because eventually pure fatigue will take over you, so I happened to get just close enough to Cambridge to make it there for the night. It was exceptionally beautiful, and did not miss any expectation I had of the city. I was tired but still got to see that famous learning institution that some of the greatest minds spent years in saving the world.
The next morning, I continue straight to Dover, where the ferry to France was. I did not see Edinburgh. I didn’t see Glasgow. I believe I stopped in Manchester for socks. I did not visit Liverpool or Nottingham or Birmingham, I did not set foot in Wales, and I rode straight through London without a glimpse of the city.