Boorman Charley - Long way down: an epic journey by motorcycle from scotland to south africa

EWAN: I said goodbye to Charley and left the workshop around 4.30 p.m. It was a Friday afternoon in the middle of February and we were heading out with our families for a joint skiing trip the next morning. We were both looking forward to the break: things had been so hectic lately with the move to the new premises, and preparations for our Africa trip really beginning in earnest.

I was on my BSA Lightning, the roads choked with rush hour traffic. Ive lived in London for years, though, and Im well used to it. Its only traffic, after all; it isnt sand or deep gravel; its not The Road of Bones.

Charley and I had crossed Kazakhstan on our motorbikes, wed negotiated the steppes of Russia and the wilderness of Siberia. Only a couple of weeks ago the GS1150 Id ridden round the world had been delivered to our workshop. It was now standing next to a dramatic-looking Mongolian Warriors costume that wed bid for in an auction at their embassy. An armoured breastplate, the bikes patched and resewn leather seat they were a reminder of all wed achieved.

February had been a morbid month in many ways. Id had surgery to test a mole and more surgery to remove a hint of skin cancer. Then Id fallen sick while we were on a hostile training exercise. But I was chilled out now the date of departure had finally been set and I was really looking forward to not thinking about work for a while and riding again with Charley. Just a couple of months now and wed be gone, the two of us riding through Africa, relying on each other the way we did before. The start of another adventure. It made me tingle just to think about it.

The traffic was at a standstill. I was filtering up to the lights thinking about getting home and helping my wife Eve with the packing; it would be great to spend some quality time with the family. I couldnt wait to get on the slopes and watch my three gorgeous daughters learning to ski.

Suddenly without warning a pedestrian stepped between the vehicles right in front of me.

He wasnt looking my way.

And he was close, he was way too close.

My God, I was going to hit him.

Instinct took over and I grabbed everything; front brake, back brake; I grabbed the clutch. Shit, now I had no engine braking.

It was all happening so fast. I knew I wasnt going to stop and could only wait for the impact. Brakes on, I was into a skid and shouting, Watch out! Watch out mate! But he didnt see me.

There was no time and I had no choice but to throw the bike away from him. I was off, chucking the machine to my right, flying through the air. I clattered into him and he was down but at least the bike hadnt hit him. I was still flailing forwards, the road coming up to meet me with sickening speed.

There was nothing I could do. I was going to hit the tarmac way too fast and the bike was still revving above me.

The holiday Eve and the kids waiting for me at home. Charley and all the team everything wed planned together. My body slammed into the road. Was it all over before wed even begun?

CHARLEY: I remember the moment it started. It was October 2004, very late one Friday night. We were in the old office in Bulwer Street with boxes all around us, bits of paper, all the office equipment gone. For a few minutes we just stood there reflecting. This is where Long Way Round had all begun, where wed planned everything, checked and re-checked the maps: its where wed first seen the bikes.

It was over, finished: wed ridden around the world, a mammoth journey; an epic adventure. But it was over now.

The maps were still on the wall and we stood before them once more. Ewan glanced at me.

What do you reckon, Charley?

I dont know.

South America, India maybe?

I looked up at him. What about riding through Africa?

Ewan and I first met on a film set in County Clare more than a dozen years ago, our friendship born out of our passion for motorbikes. Weve been best mates ever since. Wed always talked about riding together; France maybe, Spain. But then Ewan walked into a map shop, and over dinner that night we decided to forget France or Spain, wed go the whole hog and ride around the world. The adventure of a lifetime, the two of us off on a couple of bikes. I wasnt sure we could pull it off; I wasnt sure it would even happen.

But it did. A late-night conversation became a dream, the dream became an adventure and that adventure proved to be a pivotal point in my life.

I grew up in the movie business, but Im dyslexicand I mean badly: if it hadnt been for my dad taking a year out to teach me to read, life couldve been very hard. Even so, reading for acting parts could be difficult sometimes. Historically Id enjoyed success in movies like The Emerald Forest , but after Long Way Round the direction of my life altered completely. I found myself in places like the pit lane of Moto GP circuits with heroes like Kenny Roberts grabbing my arm and telling me how much hed enjoyed watching our journey.

I was no longer just John Boormans son in fact my dad rang me up the other day to tell me hed introduced himself to someone and theyd said, Oh, Charley Boormans dad.

My career was now in motorcycling albeit not in a conventional way and the success of Long Way Round enabled me to live another dream. Ever since I can remember Id always wanted to race bikes, so together with Russ Malkin, a very good friend and producer/director of Long Way Round , I entered the worlds most dangerous race: the 2006 Dakar rally five days in January where I rode ridiculous distances at ridiculous speeds before an innocuous crash tipped me off and I broke both my hands. (I never made it to the sand dunes and Ive unfinished business there.) That dream was over for now, but another was just beginning.

Ewan flew in for the end of the Dakar to congratulate us all (my fellow teammate Simon Pavey had made it all the way to the finishing line). He was joined by film maker David Alexanian, the fourth member of the team that created Long Way Round . There we were in Dakar all together again. And there in the scorching sun we confirmed what we had first mapped out over a year before in Bulwer Street. The adventure was on again John OGroats to Cape Town: we would ride the Long Way Down.