View the map of the route

Can it really be a week ago that we were in Petra? Time, the places we have seen and the roads we have ridden are beginning to blur.

We have turned left, heading north, the sun on our backs for most of the day, a marked contrast between north Africa and the Middle East.

The gritty unpredictability of each day has given way to a more relaxed holiday mood. Gone are the simple roadside cafes we encountered along the full length of the coast where a fresh sheep skin hanging up indicated lamb on the barbeque with a couple more tethered nearby in case we were hungry.

Around the Med by motorbike: Algeria-Jordan

Sandblasted bikes and a dodgy gearbox - our riders struggle through North Africa and into Jordan

• Around the Med by motorbike: into Algeria

Around the Mediterranean by motorbike

Six men - including the inevitable celebrity - embark on a six-week, 10,000-mile drive around the entire Med coastline

Around the Med by motorbike: into Algeria

The gang meet in Barcelona and head off from Alicante by ferry to Algeria. The adventure begins.....

• Around the Mediterranean by motorbike

Related Links

• Around the Med by motorbike: Algeria-Jordan

Now we are subjected to the unfamiliar trappings of modern life such as menus, knives, forks and alcohol.

We were told to take a secondary route north from Petra to Amman known as the King’s Highway. What a good suggestion. The scenery was spectacular. Dramatic gorges, twisted escarpments and occasionally a lone shepherd eking out a living on sparse vegetation.

At one point the road dropped 3,000ft down into a canyon before climbing out the other side on wide sweeping bends and just as we crested the last ridge there was the Dead Sea laid out below. It will remain in our minds as one of the great sections of ride. We stopped for the obligatory float in the filthy water and took unflattering photographs of each other caked in volcanic mud.

From Amman we were left with a short stretch of road via the Roman site of Jerash to the Syrian border. Unfortunately I misread the map and made an unnecessary detour back down into the Jordan valley.

More tight twisting bends and a road covered in oil and burnt rubber from protesting lorry tyres made the surface hazardous. Tim, on slightly different tyres to the rest of us, had his front wheel sliding which is an unsettling feeling at the best of times.

Reading maps is not easy. I need glasses to read the place names, I can't put glasses on while we are riding or keep stopping to put them on and in any case most of the road signs are in Arabic. Welcome to the world of the mature biker!

We have developed natural riding habits over the last few weeks forged by our own individual characteristics. I lead. Tim, Germanic, likes a precise order with a set distance between each bike. Vic, more used to formation flying, sits off my rear indicator and is in the same spot every time I look in the mirror. Nick and Myles both like their own space and pay no attention to Tim’s rules while Charlie just goes wherever he likes joking with everyone.

Syria, we were told, does not yet understand tourism. To Syrians we are their guests. What an apt description. Wherever we stop inevitably a small group of inquisitive bystanders start the same rudimentary conversation. “Where are you from?” “England.” “You are most welcome.”

Charming, polite and friendly you could not wish to be in a more hospitable country with some of the most delicious food we have experienced so far. Mezze, of course, followed by grilled meat or fish and washed down with Lebanese wine and then a glass of milky arak to finish off.

From Damascus we rode east across the featureless desert towards Iraq, signposts to Baghdad emphasising the proximity of the battle zone. It is very tempting to open the throttle on these long flat stretches but with opaque windshields from the sand storm and random pot holes we keep to a steady 70mph.

Our goal was Palmyra, surely the most impressive of all the Roman sites we have seen to date.

Mary Lovell was in our hotel in Damascus having just lead a group for Steppes Travel to Syria. I read her book A Scandalous Life before visiting. It brings 19th century Damascus to life and adds a romantic twist to Palmyra.

Later, as we retraced our steps west back across the desert, we passed a lone cyclist, his solitary journey challenging the intrepid notion of our own adventure.

Around Aleppo are the dead cities. Provincial Roman towns, many of the houses still standing, which were abandoned when water ran out.

At one site the local boys thought they had found an easy target. On old bikes which would never pass an MOT, they tried each of us in turn, riding dangerously close, swerving in front and breaking. Their error was trying it on Myles who was not going to play the game and neatly side swiped the leader with his pannier sending him off the road and into a ditch. They left us alone after that.

Tomorrow we head north into Turkey, turn west and start the journey towards home. Gear box still playing up in the heat.

Nick Laing is the founder and Chairman of Steppes Travel. More details on the trip and information on donating to the Prince George Galitzine Memorial Fund can be found on the expedition website at www.marenostrum.me.uk

Times recommends

• Same flight + different airline code = £225 out of pocket
• The UK and Ireland's 25 best Christmas events
• Book 2010's best holidays now