Horizons Unlimited - The HUBB

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Jtw000 28 Aug 2011 21:02

No internet for a couple of days so here are backdated issues....

Sightseeing... Hell...

Just spent the day on the sightseeing bus today. It was interesting and there was no way I would have found my way around Berlin on the bike so it was cheaper/easier/less stressful to let the bus do the work while I laid back and saw the city. It’s was an interesting day from my perspective. Germany and Berlin, in particular is a strange place. My impression, as a student of the human sciences is that Germany is a bully that’s picked on the wrong little kid in the playground and got a bloody nose. It’s learnt a bit since then, grown up a little but now it’s over-compensating massively for its supposed shortcomings and struts around proudly but still careful not to ruffle the wrong feathers. It’s a man pumped up on steroids down the gym, a 55 year old dude in a sportscar he can’t afford or an aging model with a breast-job who glares at teenage girls.
It has a rich and chequered history and the architecture is alive and vibrant with stories to tell but the over-compensation spoils it a bit. We walked over the stones in the jewish memorial and the security guard came up ranting and raving in German. I stared at him, wondering what the hell he was saying and he stopped, took pause and began apologising hurriedly, sweating and flustering. I apologised for my oversight, stepped down and walked on. This is typical Germany. It swaggers and boasts about the biggest library in Europe, the biggest hotel, the biggest station with the most shops inside but when you call it on these things it backs down fast without knowing why just like the over-muscled steroid-junkie compensating for some presumed weakness.
I was chatting with my partner over a massive German meal, apparently designed to not be able to be finished. We enjoyed our time in Nuremburg, it was a nice town with some impressive historical buildings and a clean, welcoming vibe. It was a nice place not trying too hard. Berlin was more like an R1200GS, bigger, better and more equipped than the rest. So over-complicated with extras and electronic gadgets, one up on the opposition that riding it is no long fun. The small, real thing does the job perfectly. It felt right, it had a proper European feel, it was nice and fun and had everything you need without having to work too hard or spend too much to appreciate it. It was the difference between a rotax single and a GS-tourer.
On the way back to the hotel (which revels in the same philosophy, believe me) we waited in a station. There were two food kiosks, one selling boxes of “authentic Chinese noodles” and another selling German sausage and beer. The Noodles were sold by a German man while the sausages by a Chinese girl. The irony was not lost on my asian partner who said, "everything here is fake!" She's right, German students are dressed up as American soldiers outside checkpoint Charlie. Of course it's not the real one, just a fake one. Some of the old building were destroyed during the war so they were rebuilt to look old... etc, etc.
So tomorrow we’re moving on. Not much money or time left now. We’re taking a trip into Kassel tomorrow and will find some camping when we get there and then a night in Belgium before the trip homewards.

Jtw000 28 Aug 2011 21:19

Finally the rains came

What a day... today was more of an adventure, life on the edge and all that. Irritating as hell though.
We set out from Berlin and already we were off to a bad start when i couldn’t find the bike keys. Luckily I carry a spare but I only have one for the tank. In the end we couldn’t find it anywhere which could only mean one thing and sure enough they were in the bike. I had used them to operate the saddle the night we went out which means they were there all day as well and two nights and nobody had looked twice, certainly nobody had tampered with her. Plus one for Germany.
So we set off and couldn’t wait to get out of the hotel. It was rubbish, like an F1 in France but with delusions of grandeur and a price to match. Minus one for Germany.
We filled up and got direction. The GPS is now almost completely useless. Apart from being rubbish the touch screen is now playing up so it’s barely functioning. Tomtom are bad, Garmin seem to be not much better. I will have a rethink when i get back.
We got on the road, my route planned from my map’o’europe that the guy who helped us seemed to think would work and be easy to follow. It was and we made good time out of Berlin but there were spots of rain and the skies were grey and cloudy. We knew this was coming which was why we went sightseeing yesterday and did the boring slog ride today. All motorways, no fun, nothing to see here...
So we headed off and the route seemed pretty sound. We stopped after an hour after crossing out of Berlin and getting well under way. We had a coffee to warm ourselves up as the temperature was a little shy of the 36 degrees we endured yesterday.
So while she plodded off to get the coffee I hung around the bike and waited. A car approached me and a fat, swarthy gentleman leant out to shake my hand. You know you’re in trouble when one of these guys wants to shake your hand. “I just need some petrol money, I give you my gold and you post it back to me back in England...” he says, fingering his necklace and ring. I laugh at him and say no thanks. His even fatter mate says I have to do it, it’s 18 carat gold, great quality. I take the gold off him, still laughing out of curiousity. Inside it’s stamped 585 so I tell him it’s marked 14 carat, bears two fake hallmarks and is made of brass. They pretend to look shocked. Now I’m probably the wrong person for them to pick on, in my last job as a pawnbroker I wrote the company manual on how to spot fake gold and have about 6 years experience in the trade dealing with scammers who have thought it through a bit more than these guys. The fatter one gets more worked up. I tell him it’s the shittiest scam I’ve ever heard and just can’t stop myself from laughing. The pieces are really awful fakes. They drive off in a mood and nearly mount a curb. I’m still laughing. My partner looks at me like I’m a crazy person and wonders why I’m in such a good mood when the sky is black and rain is looking like a certainty.
So we plod on and make good time then a shower hits and hits hard. The wind is coming up and the weather is clearly against us. Then up ahead we see nothing... just a white mist and we’re riding into it. The spots of dark on my light grey jacket are getting bigger and darker and it’s getting colder fast. My jacket is goretex lined and my trousers have a knock off gortext variant so no idea how good they’re going to be in a storm. My boots have holes in and my gloves are missing a lining. Oh well, we’re going in and there’s nothing we can do about it.
It hits us like a fart in an elevator. During this time we’re battling contra-flows for roadworks that aren’t happening and dumb-arse German drivers who feel the need to flex their penis-muscles by driving through narrowed lanes flat out. It's a blur of road spray from the back of bargain basement Porches and 5 year old audis.
We force our way on but it’s getting cold. I’m wearing a t-shirt and I’m feeling a cold, clammy dampness and I know I’m getting wet. We stop off after about 40 miles of this and I take off my coat. My arms are covered with a fine damp mist, condensation building inside the waterproof lining so i might as well just be wearing a shirt. My temperature guage says we’re down to 10 degrees. 10 bloody degrees! That’s a hell of a drop and I’m soaking wet and riding into heavy winds. Not a good day and I'm shaking all over, I can't help it, purely involuntary. She’s ok though, her waterproofs are old fashioned plastic stuff, they work and work fine. They don’t allow the dubious benefits of letting your skin breath but they keep you dry and cost less than £30 so a proper bargain. Also, her skin doesn’t want to breath, it’s bloody freezing out there so breathing is an unnecessary luxury. I need a piss every five minutes today, the chill is cutting right through me like a blade but everywhere we stop wants a euro to let me use a toilet. Expletives were exchanged and I just used a bush. Cheeky Germans... Germany, minus one for weather, minus one for toilet charges which are everywhere.
We stop for a bite at a McDonalds to use their free wifi and plot the rest of the days adventure. Sadly dumb-arse staff are not a german invention so no points for this. Internet didn’t even try to work so I ask relevant questions to find nobody knows if it’s plugged in or even how to plug it in. I know I’m not going to win this round.
So we plod on... I have a bit of time to think so I start exploring my dash and try to figure out how long I’ve got till the fuel runs out. You see this morning I just chucked in 14 euros, what I had in my pocket so didn’t bother to rest the clock. I figured I had about 240 miles since I had about 75/85 on there this morning. We carried on and by now it was getting dry. We crossed underneath an immense black cloud and when i say black I mean properly black. Somehow the water didn’t just flush down on us and the roads were drier now than we’d had all day. I opened her up and got us to 75mph which was all i could manage in the heavy wind. At one point we were down to under 50 but bikers were clumping behind me, none of us could make a better pace.
We started making some time us and as we passed the 200 miles mark I started watching out for fuel. You can probably tell what’s coming here... right? So we carried on... nothing. We saw a few turnoffs but they seemed to lead nowhere. No problem, I have a big reserve and another 40 miles in the tank before we hit it. This is Germany and we’re on an autobahn, we’re bound to see fuel soon. So finally at 237.6 the fuel light came on. At this point I was still not overly concerned. I resolved that at 250 I would take the next turnoff and go looking for a petrol station because I was now getting a bit worried at the lack of services. At 270 she spluttered and turned up her toes. We coasted to the bottom of a long hill with nothing but fields all around us and certainly no turnoffs. In the end I braked at an SOS phone. I didn’t plan to use it because I couldn’t but it gave us something to stand behind because the driving is so mental here you don’t want to be on the hard shoulder. My spare bottles were empty and I had nothing on board. I tried the siphon hose and the front tank was as empty as the main but I hoped I might find a little sloshing around at the bottom I could use.
So by now my partner was coughing badly, we were both shaking from the cold and we were stuck, literally in the middle of nowhere. I put our helmets some distance behind the bikes, a supposed international signal for distress and waited for someone to help. One bike went past at a million miles an hour without a second look and cars barrelled past without looking our way.
Minus one, Germany for be full of people who are so arrogant the entire world dislikes having you at hotels.
So we see a couple of bikes and I wave... they pull up and stop but don’t speak any English. The first one points at the bike and says, "Kaput?" We get our message across to one another with grunts and points and gestures and they take my emergency bottles, pointing off into the distance. When they ride off I think we’ve got a plan that they’re going to get me some fuel and bring it back. She’s freezing now so I wrap her gloves round the exhaust to warm them through and stick my wooly shirt on her and pretend I’m not at all cold. She seems ok, more worried than anything else. Plus one Germany for having bikers that give a shit.
So the police stop... rather predictably. I walk over and ask if they speak English. They don’t so we do the grunts and gestures game so they get the vibe of what I’m saying. They tell me to stay off the hard shoulders because people in Germany drive like “Vukkin idiotsh”. They’re happy everything is under control and go about the business of having 80s mullets. Plus one to Germany for having police who try to help.
So the bikers head back down the other side, blasting their horns. My Asians coughs her lungs up in celebration and we wait patiently for them to find a ramp, turn around and come back to us. They do in about 15 minutes. With petrol in it the bike runs fine. They give us directions to the petrol stations and we give them beer money for their trouble which they don't like to take. As we’re about to leave we get another police car with different police. Better English this time but still only concerned that we’re safe. Plus two to germany for having bikers that didn’t steal my bottles and for having police who still have no interest in finding something to nick me for but instead making sure we’re safe.
We find the petrol station and fill the bike with the juice of a billion year old dinosaur, drink some foul motorway coffee and decide what to do. We’ve still got nowhere booked for tonight and no plans so we decide to head to Kassel as it’s what we were going to do anyway. It turned out we’d made better time than I thought and we made it into the city centre in 45 minutes, give or take a few showers. The first hotel we came to was 90euros a night and we’re low on cash. I ask if there’s anything cheaper about and he tells me there is an F1. At this point I hear the sound of angels singing. F1, cheap, cheerful, clean, warm and lovely. He was even nice enough to print me a map. Plus another one for Germany for having just plain decent people in it so long as they’re not behind the wheel of a car.
After the usual hassle we found it, sent all over the countryside by the directions of others after the map refused to be accurate. In the end we found an Ibis so I figured I’d ask them to find the F1 logo attached to a hotel in their carpark. We booked in and put this long, wet day behind us.
The guy on reception let me park in the disabled bay as it wasn’t busy and really couldn’t have been nicer... Plus one, Germany, damn you!
So all in all Germany wins out for the day. Berlin... well it’s just another city, full of people who just live too close together and have to work too hard at something they hate. Out of that and German people are cool by me. They shouldn’t be allowed to drive but get them out of their automobiles or as they call them in Germany, “vukkinderthmachinen” and they’re very warm and pleasant. So far nothing has made me want to be back “home” in England. Shame as in about three days that’s exactly where i’ll be.
Bugger!

Jtw000 28 Aug 2011 21:51

And finally today. Disappointment grows

We head today to Brussels, which is a cross between France and Germany in every sense of the word. Both myself and my partner have never been here before so we're looking forward to this. We're stretching the last of the cash and making the best of it. Of course it all goes wrong.
We wake up to dryer gear and stuff ourselves on food bought from the local supermarket because it's cheaper than paying the 4 euros each for breakfast at the hotel... better too. Realisation slowly dawns that it's just cheaper to buy breakfast there but oh well... The sun is out and the sky is blue.
We head off in no particular hurry. Still no internet, the woman at the hotel says they've been having trouble for 2 weeks. Damn you, Germany, you just won't play nice. So we head back to the shops to pick up more of the wafer things with nutella in them that my partner is now chemically addicted to. We discover the shops are closed. We then discover today is Sunday. We then discover that the shops are open until 10.30. We then discover it's 10.43 and we get on our way. Biggest ***** of the day award goes to the man in the VW who just pulls out of a sideroad in front of me. I sort of had a feeling so no harm done but his grinning little brown face as he shrugs and does some odd gesture rolling his hand makes me want to show him the true meaning of christmas. I let it go and watch while he cuts through cars being a general menace to everyone.
We get lost in the city for nearly an hour looking for a way to get onto my map which is a list of road numbers and place names to look for. We follow the half-functional garmin round in circles before giving up and backtracking which reveals the first clue, a motorway sign with the right number on it. We follow it out and get back on track.
We stop for some fuel and fill up to the unamused expression of my partner as I comment about yesterday being all her fault... maybe for being heavier than usual... I don't know. I look at the road signs, the place we want is dead ahead. Black clouds are behind us so I throw some grass in the air and it's blown back and away meaning the nice weather ahead is blowing in. With no internet we're running blind with no plans again. We're heading to Brussels airport to find one of 7 F1 hotels there for some cheap lodgings.
We cross out fingers and head off into the sunshine up ahead. The signs lead us back round and towards the black clouds and now the Garmin says, yeah... let's go there instead.
The weather is windy but the roads are dry so we take the bike up to 75, not economical but I figure it's best to make time when we can, we've got a fairly long trek today and harder because of the fact it's all motorways with nothing to see or do, just a plodding ride. So apart from the wind it's uneventful. We stop for Mcdonalds to use their internet... doesn't work, of course and my Asian decides she's hungry. We buy some "food" and sit at the only free table next to the bin. They wouldn't give me a smurf (happymeal toy) but I have a feeling that meant something different in German because the little blonde girl working there looked horrified.
So we're eating and this immense fat woman is opposite, chewing her way through a mountain of food with her handful of offspring. She's looking at us with a smile and talking to the kids. The kids are looking at us. I look about and all the kids are looking at us. Now I'm not unsual looking and it occurs that they're all staring at poor little Asian girlfriend sitting next to me. She thinks it's funny and just waves and smiles. Children cry. It's all very unpleasant.
So we leave and head off into the distance. The sky is dark and grim but behaving so we make our way to the end of my list. We check and I figure best to head back a stop and turn off to Dusseldorf so we do that. We then skip ahead on my list and follow to the Belgian border. The kilometers melt down nicely although the roads keep bunging us off exits. Suddenly we're in Belgium but Belgium is wet and it hits us. We had a shower and then it dried up... then it hits us hard. Hard enough that I just pull up under a bridge and wait for the worst to pass. Belgian drivers are pretty decent. We saw a few bad-uns but most were pretty safe... ok, we saw two accidents too. The bikers though... this is death-wish country. One on a sportsbike was weaving through traffic in a rain storm at speeds my bike wouldn't even make. A whole group of tourers just spread out of a turnoff and I had to swerve to avoid them, another was scrubbing his tyres in in front of a truck that wasn't going to avoid going through him... painful to watch but no accidents there, thank god.
So... a day of cold, moist, plodding slog we made it to the Brussels Airport. We got some directions, followed them and ended up at a different part of the airport. We followed the directions on the back of the F1 leaflet and ended up back where we stopped last time for directions. I got him to write them down this time with special emphasis on the "straight on" part which made little sense when all three roads veered off in different directions. I sort of followed and the sunlight blasted my eyes and I went blind so held on to whatever lane I was on. We never saw any of the signs he directed us to but we saw an Etap hotel and stopped to ask for directions and there was the F1... typical. So we went in to find it had been closed down... We asked in Etap... he had no answer, they just locked it up and left. Etap was twice the price but we stumped it up through lack of choice. Inside was the answer, the hotel is identical but... twice the price. The rooms are the same, the beds are the same, the windows, curtains, towels, TVs, everything...
So a whole day blasting to Brussels and we see the inside of an F1 for twice the price. We were going to stay here 2 nights but can't afford to now. We were going to head to Brugge instead but the F1 is gone there too. So now we're going into Brussels tomorrow for lunch and then into France for 2 more nights before crossing home. Not ideal but neither of us want to go back. My partner is stuck in England for another 5 months studying but is thinking of blowing it off and going home. She loses some money but it's just not worth it....

Jtw000 29 Aug 2011 20:48

Well my trip is ending with a whimper, going out in a blaze of disappointment. Today we woke up in Brussels (i'm going to miss waking up and wondering what town and even country I'm in, I love that). The sun was shining and the skies were a glorious blue... or grey. We packed slowly and headed into Brussels, the last real stop on our little trip. So we made it into the center and our initial thoughts were... what a shithole. It really sucks, it was worse than England. We stopped off a couple of times for her to snap off a few pictures. She tapped my shoulder at one point and we stopped (that's our code) She went off to snap a statue and was gone a whole hour. I was not impressed but there's no stopping her when the mood gets hold. We had words, she looked sad so we headed off. Still more crappy scenes of depravity. What a dump, the worst place we've seen so far in Europe. So we didn't bother with lunch, we just grabbed some bits and carried on. The GPS was still playing up, the touch-screen is not working at all but it guided us on to Halle, the next town albiet over a railway track. We found signs which lead us to what google said was the right thing and we got underway. I stopped for fuel, still a sore subject with her and had to pay upfront. That bugs the crap out of me, I hate that. So we finally left Belgium and there was much rejoicing. We were soon in the centre of Lille and honestly, not much better. We stopped as I had to find the F1. I had the GPS co-ordinates and was struggling to get them into my Garmin.
We got underway and by some magic the Garmin worked perfectly and guided us to the front door of the hotel on the first attempt. I was impressed... why it can't always do that I don't know.
So we headed over to a restaurant on the same block. After examining the menu I asked the waitress about vegeterian options. They included a salad... Considering there was nothing she fancied we moved on. She didn't want to get back on the bike but we did. We rode out and found a site with 4 or 5 places and she picked one at random. The waitress was rude and unhelpful so we were definitely in France. She ordered fish, I ordered something. Then a dude brought us two small oblong plates. Then some other dude brought us two wooden boards with a hot brick in the middle and three little jars of herbs. We waited, confused as the food arrived. Two bowls of potatoes and some raw crap. It was cool actually and in typical French fashion the food was really excellent. Tomorrow we check out Lille. That's it... nothing but back to London after that. Not looking forward to that, I can tell you.

Jtw000 30 Aug 2011 20:54

Well I'm sad to say it's my last night in Europe. We're in Lille, we wandered around the town, I made some notes, she ate some cake. Not an exciting town but the architecture is actually very impressive. Otherwise, it's just another city really. I don't drink when i drive, she doesn't drink at all and places like this are best appreciated while on the way to fully incoherent, in my opinion. We had some lunch... it was typically French. By that I mean the food was good, the service was lousy and the cost was prohibitive. In fact the waiter and the manager nearly got into a fight over something or other while I was trying to pay. Who knows....
So what have I learned, which was the whole reason for me to do this. Number one, the bike I chose was all wrong for Europe, 2 up. Out here a more powerful bike would have served us better, the roads are faster between towns and we struggled to chug along at legal speeds. Having said that the bike has been reliable, hassle free and economical. I'm happy on balance and ready to accept her as the right machine for my next trip but that won't be two up with heavy luggage packed to the rafters. We didn't use half of what we took so next time I will happily pack much lighter. My side bags are only about 15litres each and that's plenty. I'm going to rebuild the dash and headlights. They didn't work as I planned so I'm going to take my time and do them exactly how I want them this time. no rush, just get them right. I have exciting plans in my head so looking forward to seeing how they pan out.
I'm going to service the bike and tidy her up but otherwise everything was fine. The motrax hanger was a piece of crap and I'll build my own as soon as I can.
We hurried too much. We booked too many hotels and were always racing to get to them. That's the joy of riding with a woman, I guess. I'm looking forward to doing more and seeing less. She seems content to just take photos all day. She doesn't relate or react with people at all. She just takes pictures.... I asked her the other day if the reason for the pictures is to remind her of the places she's seen and the things she's done or just to upload to Facebook and show off to her friends. She went quiet and slapped me, a sure sign she was rumbled. So there you have it, she likes to brag online that she's traveling. The bike is nothing but a bit of transport to her and the end is the only result. I'm in it for the journey and it's a been a bit of a struggle doing it with and for her. I'm looking forward to finding my own pace.
Nothing much happened today. I upset a French woman. She demanded I pay first at the fuel station. I went in and asked if she spoke English. SHe didn't and threw a big card at me that had, in English that I had to first state payment method. I told her cash. She still refused to turn on the pump and I tried to make her understand I didn't know how much I needed as I wanted to fill up. She was rude. I offered to leave 20euros, more than it would cost, she just kept shouting "pay now, pay now". She got a torrent of abuse which shut her up and I still didn't get any fuel. I love France and most of the people but those working in the service industry are really lousy...
So tomorrow we sail back. I'm not looking forward to it. I have missed people and it will be great to catch up but england.... I've had enough....

Deolali 3 Sep 2011 09:33

Thanks Jtw000 for a great account of your journey. I have thoroughly enjoyed reading the story of your travels, your experiences with the bike and your views on aspects of life.

I hope you'll let us know your views on the trip and your return to "normality" now you've been home a few days.

Cheers

John

Jtw000 4 Sep 2011 10:17

Thanks. I've not been able to bring myself to write about my return as being back is so very, very grim. I'll get to wrapping it up this weekend. I'm only back in England sorting out visas for a longer trip which makes it just about bearable. I guess I might start a new blog in a few days and go into details of visas, bike preps and other stuff if that might be interesting?

Jtw000 5 Sep 2011 16:45

So I’m finally back. I’ve been back a few days now. I rode back on the Wednesday. It was a fairly uneventful ride, we crossed over on the ferry, met a couple of nice French dudes and an English dude on a KTM who didn't want to talk to anyone. They were on their way to a Steam festival on the isle of Wight. I wasn’t really sure how to respond to that so I just smiled and sat somewhere else.
My brother met me at the dock and we rode back together. It was all a bit grim to be honest. By the time we got back to my brother and had a cup of tea we were just about ready to turn round and head back out somewhere, anywhere... Only the thought that I’m only back in the UK to sort out visas for the big trip is keeping me sane. (Sane... ha)
My brother asked how I felt and I told him I was ok, not tired, we’ve adapted to the whole thing fine. That being the case he asked me to help him move house. I sure love being home. I dropped my other-half off back in the city. It was an unpleasant experience. We both agreed we just wanted to head back off out there instead of just dropping back into the old routine.
So we dropped back into the old routine. It’s frightening how quickly you just slip back into the same old crap. My other half is back to school on Monday and has already started back to work. I’ve been helping my brother sort his life out and tomorrow I’m cracking on repairing the bike and booking visa stuff. My carnet paperwork turned up while I was away and is costing £1075. Nice...
So... I guess that wraps up the trip. I learnt a few things and now I’m off to apply them to my next trip. I’m starting a new thread for the new trip. I hope this is useful to some people. My advice....


1) Plan your navigation. GPS, maps, whatever. Don’t just expect things to work, they don’t. We spoke to dozens of people who all had the same problems with getting in and out of cities.
2) Plan your bike. Mine did well, was very cheap to run and reliable but on the long straight roads 2 up it wasn’t fun. Any bike will manage. All the logical things are important but the bike you want also needs to be a factor.
3) Get a comfy seat or expect to get a sore arse.
4) Pack carefully or you’ll lose things. I now own 4 t-shirts, 7 socks and 2 pairs of boxer shorts but no tools or waterproofs.
5) Plan your route. Ours was stuck with starting in Milan so we ended up all over the place.
6) Go to the Pyrenees
7) Don’t bother going to Belgium
8) Pack light. You don’t need all that crap.
9) There is no point taking your girlfriend to countries with extremely cheap prostitutes. See rule 8.
10) People like to help... that doesn’t mean they can. Take directions with a pinch of salt. A big pinch. If anyone tells you it's just over there and points to where you've just been, punch them in the face.
11) You need better lights
12) Foreign driving is terrible. Just like it is here. Polish driving is so terrible I wonder how anyone is still alive there.

milsh 2 Jan 2013 21:02

Loved reading about your trip mate, some of your observations cracked me up big time :) rule 8&9 for example..hahaha


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