Riding a motorcycle around the world definitely ain’t what it used to be. Like bungee-jumping, hot-air ballooning, and deep-sea diving, it seems to be on a lot of people’s bucket lists. We’ve had show biz types like Ewan MacGregor and Charlie Boorman hopping aboard BMW 1150s and traversing the planet, not to mention business high-rollers like Malcolm Forbes, and the sight of a heavily-laden tourer festooned with hard bags and stickers is almost a cliche’ these days. That’s not to minimize the significance of riding a bike around the globe. It takes a special kind of rider to undertake a trip of this magnitude, and it’s definitely not for everyone.

And the guy that got this particular ball rolling - at least within memory - is Ted Simon, who, in 1973, picked up a brand-new 500 cc Triumph Tiger and embarked on a four-year voyage that encompassed Africa, the far east, and north and south America. His book, Jupiter’s Travels, is widely regarded as the seminal tome on long-distance motorcycle touring, and more than one two-wheeled wanderer has left for parts unknown after reading it. The aforementioned Ewan MacGregor and Charlie Boorman acknowledge that Simon was the inspiration for their The Long Way Round documentary/book, and although he isn’t the only guy that’s ridden around the world and written about it, he is arguably the most influential.

And clearly, the most incorrigible. In 2001, Simon decided to take another run at it, and set out again, this time retracing his steps from Jupiter’s Travels, with a view to seeing how things had changed in the intervening 28 years. The result is Dreaming Of Jupiter, published in 2007.

But this time around, Simon was approaching 70 years of age, and the world he passed through in the 1970s is gone forever, replaced by a harsher and much more violent reality. During Jupiter’s Travels, Simon’s biggest problem seemed to be a motorcycle that simply would not run for more than a few hours at a time, but during Dreaming Of Jupiter, his biggest issues and setbacks came in the form of pig-headed officials and corrupt policemen. These days, it seems, if you want go cross the border from one country to another, what you need more than anything else is money. Fifty well-placed dollars will get you much farther than a stamped passport or signed documents, as Simon discovered time after time.

Crossing over from Malawi to Mozambique, in Africa, for example, Simon is confronted by an obstinate official who insists that he retrace his steps to the capital of Blantyre, and come back with a visa.... a trip of some 240 kilometres over virtually nonexistent roads that will set him back four days and cause him to miss various connections on the other side of the border. "The thought of it is appalling," he writes. "So I just stand there, staring at the immigration officer, thinking, it can’t be true." Salvation comes in the form of a fellow traveller, a Tanzanian businessman, who advises: "My dear fellow. This is Africa. In Africa everything is possible. I think, for some money, you will be able to get your visa." Fifty bucks does it and he’s on his way.

Simon encounters this kind of helpfulness throughout his odyssey, although almost never from officials. As ever, it’s people that will see you through, and never those that govern them.

Unsurprisingly, Simon finds that his age has caught up to him. Humping a full-size BMW around the world is no picnic, and when it falls over, everything has to be taken off before he can horse it upright again. Sometimes, even that won’t do it and Simon spends a fair bit of time just sitting and waiting for someone to come by and help. In Africa, for example, he breaks his leg while navigating through some deep mud and is too weak to move. Magically, people just seem to appear out of nowhere and helping hands load him into a truck and get him and his bike off to the local hospital.

He also finds that the scenery has changed dramatically over the years. Where pristine wilderness and wildlife once reigned, scorched earth and dusty plains have taken over. Africa, in particular, seems to be on its last legs and you get the sense that things are worse than we can imagine. Endless waves of refugees, fleeing famine and almost continuous warfare, Simon writes, seem to have deforested vast areas of the countryside.

Politics too has had its effect. In South America, Simon has to plan his route and activities to hopefully avoid guerilla groups like the Revolutionary Armed Forces of Columbia, and bumps into other riders who have been unlucky enough to come into contact with them. He is advised to carry a red cross with him at all times.... "it’s about the only thing they respect" he’s told.

Through his travels and travails, Simon maintains a professional detachment that prevents Dreaming Of Jupiter from becoming just another travelogue or diary. At the end, back in England and reflecting upon the 95,000-odd kilometres he’d ridden over the years, encompassing most of the globe, he finds himself at a bit of a loss, and wraps it all up with these words: "It was all very peculiar. As though I hadn’t really been anywhere at all."