We were so close to Liechtenstien we had to pay a short visit just to tick off another country. Geoff smirked a tab and I took a photo of the border crossing and that was it, Liechtenstein. Back into Austria to Landeck to find a campsite. While waiting for a rockfall to be cleared, we got talking to a German riding a BMW K1100 who led us to the Weisserspritz sport hotel which had a campsite at the back. It was difficult keeping up with him on the twisty road, but what a road! A beautiful ski resort and probably the most scenic so far.
We tried the restaurant and the lovely blond waitress ushered us into a side room when we told her we were camping and not residing in the hotel. A nonetheless lovely room where I sampled weinerschnitzel followed by a banana split. Well, why not make the most of it? We had a drive of a 4X4 electric chair designed for full access to the surrounding area, geared towards disabled visitors. A 30.000 euro machine and very nippy, on test at the hotel. I want one. The hotel employee also imformed us that due to an unusual amount of snow the Stelvio pass was still closed, so we'll have to ride some others to make up for it.
After a cold night 3800ft up the mountainside I woke to the sound of the huge meltwater falls cascading down the mountains, watched some deer run along the valley below, away from the few houses and the benchsaw busily making a stockpile of firewood for the cold nights. I washed my clothes in the shower and left them to dry in the sun after the frost had cleared. It was actually very hot by 9.30.
We reached the Italian border by 12.45 where I managed to find some novelty braces to keep up my irritatingly loose leathers. We stumbled upon the Reschen reservior and the Romanesque church tower proundly standing above the water. The last building left standing after the fascist government decided to flood two local reserviors, lake Mittersee and Rechensee, after the 2nd world war had finished. 181 houses and farms were destroyed and 70% of the population forced to move or stay in a camp for two years, with no help at all from the government.
We headed down to Lana and found another 4 star campsite, the Arquin. This camping lark really is roughing it! I mean, the pool had closed before we could take a dip, outrageous!
A stroll around the local town to cool off after another 28C day, relaxing by the town's picturesque pond full of fish.
We packed early next morning and set off for Passo Di M. Giovo, via the bakery and the obligatory croissants!
The pass was definitely the best ride yet, and we sat amoungst the snow covered peaks with our first taste of Black Forest gateaux at the Idelweiss cafe 2096m high, (the mountain not the cafe) since we couldn't actually find any in the Black Forest! Another amazing ride down, and halfway back up again to try filming it, unsuccessfully again. The camcorder refusing to play ball for some unknown reason. A roadside brew up was in order, where I had a sudden urge to relieve myself into a discarded builders bucket, perched halfway down a steep riverbank above fast flowing rapids. Not ideal but I'd been suffering for a day or two and when you gotta go you gotta go!
The Gretl Am See campsite at lake Caldaro was our stop for the night, and what an amazing place. It's almost a resort in itself, right on the shores of the lake, full of windurfers making us look decidedly insignificant and not part of their superior talented group.
The local bar and pizzeria was the best yet, where we reflected on the state of Italian selfish driving, whle the lake reflected the state of our attire compared to the suave fashionable Italians.
I was surprised even though we were in Italy everyone still speaks German. As we are effluent in all foreign languages, it didn't matter.
Onward to Lake Garda and the Limone resort for another night camped by the shore at another excellent campsite. We even managed an hours sunbathe before a very heavy hailstorm that really tested out the tents integrity. A bit dank, but dry enough.
Onto Roverto after sampling more croissants, deciding the only way to find a favourite was to simply try them all as we go. Despite last nights rain the tents were the driest they'd been so far. Many small tractors held up the traffic amoungst miles of vineyards and olive groves. There are many Piaggio 50cc three wheel pickups that are used for carrying almost anything, except 6'6" blokes....
Passo Del Sommo for marmalade croissants, then down to Passo Di Vezzina heading for Asagio. A a large town, but nowhere to feed hungry bikers as Italians don't do Sundays.
The best days riding so far. Quite cold up in the mountains as we stopped to watch four skiers using the last dregs of snow at a ghostown ski resort. We stopped at Forza where Geoff negotiated some house spagetti at a hotel restaurant. The owners wife refused to give us a capuccino with spagetti as it was 'not possible' so we had to have water, cowering and guilty at our heathen ways. All the local towns were covered in Italian flags celebrating 300.000 Italian soldiers lost in previous wars. We didn't understand the exact details, our Italian is coming along, but cappuccino and beer is about our limit.
Onto Feltre along amazing twisty roads to Energo. Campsites are getting few and far between but we eventually found one south of Belluno, via an unnames gravel hillclimb over a mountain, where two local girls pointed us in the right direction. It was similar to the Hardknott pass in the Lake District, but potholed, rocks and gravel, good practice for Russia! A small ski resort town of Nevegal, and another four star campsite, but distinctly by Eastern European standards! We met Thomas the German cyclist who was covering around 80km a day, probably more than us. Everyone we meet is so friendly, and waving to every motorcyclist is even becoming a chore! I had little sleep that night, it was so quiet every little sound was exaggerated, persistant cuckoos and a fiercely barking dog echoing down the valley all night kept me awake.
Thomas waved us on after a few photos and disbelief at our madness, but he could understand why we need to do it. Travelling in this way brings life to your journey in a way hotels will never.
We aimed in a general direction of Trieste, passing the stunning Dolomites, and onto the most boring Roman roads imaginable. Our first McDonalds was a welcome break along the dull, busy A13, as interesting as a dialtone compared the the mountain passes we had come accustomed to, but intrinsically more interesting than our A13. Unfortunately this McDonald's didn't have internet access but as it's burgers are trademarked, easy to order in English! So off to grind out the last miles to Trieste. A view over the bay from the main road in was an extra treat after an afternoon of tiresome straights and impatient Italian drivers who will overtake at any half-chance.
A stop for a cappuccino on the seafront to admire the scenery, having to agree Italian women are the most attractive so far. The city is an amazing place, as was the fight for supremacy between hordes of scooters, lorries and tiny cars. One lorry cut across me forcing me to turn left, negotiate the one-way system, and find Geoff patiently waiting where we were rudely parted.
Almost as the Slovenian border and no sign of a campsite, we returned to the other side of town where one or two were signposted on the outskirts.
Alle Rosa is the most basic site so far, but adequate except for the low shower height that us gentlemen of higher altitude often suffer.
An evenings ride back into town searching for pizza, and a nice stroll around the beautiful city to contemplate Slovenia compared to such a affluent resort as Trieste. We guessed the wrong road back to camp that lead us high above Trieste. But what a view! The whole bay under a purple and pink sunset, mirrored by the calm sea. The campsite was only 5 miles from the city centre, so after 15 we turned around, opting to take the Autostrada back into town to follow the road we knew. Little did we realise we had turned around less than 100mtrs from the site! Geoff had his suspicions when he spotted the supermarket across the road from the site.
This morning I was really feeling the exhaustion from the mileage and lack of sleep, and was only too pleased when Geoff announced what a good idea it would be to stay for another day and find an internet cafe. Not easy trying to fit everything in before the time runs out so apologies for typing this so quickly because I know you can't read fast.....
So Trieste will have to put up with us for another day, but at least we finally found a small internet cafe after a mornings search. I bought some chain lube from a local bikeshop, after finding it tucked away on two shelves at the back behind rows of every fashion item relating to bikes imaginable. Even the full length mirror at the till, after which two customers had made full use of, buying extortionate items, made me look thin. It's not what you do or how you do it in Italy, it's all about looking good doing it!
Into Slovenia tomorrow following the coast down to Bosnia, should prove interesting!
We tried the restaurant and the lovely blond waitress ushered us into a side room when we told her we were camping and not residing in the hotel. A nonetheless lovely room where I sampled weinerschnitzel followed by a banana split. Well, why not make the most of it? We had a drive of a 4X4 electric chair designed for full access to the surrounding area, geared towards disabled visitors. A 30.000 euro machine and very nippy, on test at the hotel. I want one. The hotel employee also imformed us that due to an unusual amount of snow the Stelvio pass was still closed, so we'll have to ride some others to make up for it.
After a cold night 3800ft up the mountainside I woke to the sound of the huge meltwater falls cascading down the mountains, watched some deer run along the valley below, away from the few houses and the benchsaw busily making a stockpile of firewood for the cold nights. I washed my clothes in the shower and left them to dry in the sun after the frost had cleared. It was actually very hot by 9.30.
We reached the Italian border by 12.45 where I managed to find some novelty braces to keep up my irritatingly loose leathers. We stumbled upon the Reschen reservior and the Romanesque church tower proundly standing above the water. The last building left standing after the fascist government decided to flood two local reserviors, lake Mittersee and Rechensee, after the 2nd world war had finished. 181 houses and farms were destroyed and 70% of the population forced to move or stay in a camp for two years, with no help at all from the government.
We headed down to Lana and found another 4 star campsite, the Arquin. This camping lark really is roughing it! I mean, the pool had closed before we could take a dip, outrageous!
A stroll around the local town to cool off after another 28C day, relaxing by the town's picturesque pond full of fish.
We packed early next morning and set off for Passo Di M. Giovo, via the bakery and the obligatory croissants!
The pass was definitely the best ride yet, and we sat amoungst the snow covered peaks with our first taste of Black Forest gateaux at the Idelweiss cafe 2096m high, (the mountain not the cafe) since we couldn't actually find any in the Black Forest! Another amazing ride down, and halfway back up again to try filming it, unsuccessfully again. The camcorder refusing to play ball for some unknown reason. A roadside brew up was in order, where I had a sudden urge to relieve myself into a discarded builders bucket, perched halfway down a steep riverbank above fast flowing rapids. Not ideal but I'd been suffering for a day or two and when you gotta go you gotta go!
The Gretl Am See campsite at lake Caldaro was our stop for the night, and what an amazing place. It's almost a resort in itself, right on the shores of the lake, full of windurfers making us look decidedly insignificant and not part of their superior talented group.
The local bar and pizzeria was the best yet, where we reflected on the state of Italian selfish driving, whle the lake reflected the state of our attire compared to the suave fashionable Italians.
I was surprised even though we were in Italy everyone still speaks German. As we are effluent in all foreign languages, it didn't matter.
Onward to Lake Garda and the Limone resort for another night camped by the shore at another excellent campsite. We even managed an hours sunbathe before a very heavy hailstorm that really tested out the tents integrity. A bit dank, but dry enough.
Onto Roverto after sampling more croissants, deciding the only way to find a favourite was to simply try them all as we go. Despite last nights rain the tents were the driest they'd been so far. Many small tractors held up the traffic amoungst miles of vineyards and olive groves. There are many Piaggio 50cc three wheel pickups that are used for carrying almost anything, except 6'6" blokes....
Passo Del Sommo for marmalade croissants, then down to Passo Di Vezzina heading for Asagio. A a large town, but nowhere to feed hungry bikers as Italians don't do Sundays.
The best days riding so far. Quite cold up in the mountains as we stopped to watch four skiers using the last dregs of snow at a ghostown ski resort. We stopped at Forza where Geoff negotiated some house spagetti at a hotel restaurant. The owners wife refused to give us a capuccino with spagetti as it was 'not possible' so we had to have water, cowering and guilty at our heathen ways. All the local towns were covered in Italian flags celebrating 300.000 Italian soldiers lost in previous wars. We didn't understand the exact details, our Italian is coming along, but cappuccino and beer is about our limit.
Onto Feltre along amazing twisty roads to Energo. Campsites are getting few and far between but we eventually found one south of Belluno, via an unnames gravel hillclimb over a mountain, where two local girls pointed us in the right direction. It was similar to the Hardknott pass in the Lake District, but potholed, rocks and gravel, good practice for Russia! A small ski resort town of Nevegal, and another four star campsite, but distinctly by Eastern European standards! We met Thomas the German cyclist who was covering around 80km a day, probably more than us. Everyone we meet is so friendly, and waving to every motorcyclist is even becoming a chore! I had little sleep that night, it was so quiet every little sound was exaggerated, persistant cuckoos and a fiercely barking dog echoing down the valley all night kept me awake.
Thomas waved us on after a few photos and disbelief at our madness, but he could understand why we need to do it. Travelling in this way brings life to your journey in a way hotels will never.
We aimed in a general direction of Trieste, passing the stunning Dolomites, and onto the most boring Roman roads imaginable. Our first McDonalds was a welcome break along the dull, busy A13, as interesting as a dialtone compared the the mountain passes we had come accustomed to, but intrinsically more interesting than our A13. Unfortunately this McDonald's didn't have internet access but as it's burgers are trademarked, easy to order in English! So off to grind out the last miles to Trieste. A view over the bay from the main road in was an extra treat after an afternoon of tiresome straights and impatient Italian drivers who will overtake at any half-chance.
A stop for a cappuccino on the seafront to admire the scenery, having to agree Italian women are the most attractive so far. The city is an amazing place, as was the fight for supremacy between hordes of scooters, lorries and tiny cars. One lorry cut across me forcing me to turn left, negotiate the one-way system, and find Geoff patiently waiting where we were rudely parted.
Almost as the Slovenian border and no sign of a campsite, we returned to the other side of town where one or two were signposted on the outskirts.
Alle Rosa is the most basic site so far, but adequate except for the low shower height that us gentlemen of higher altitude often suffer.
An evenings ride back into town searching for pizza, and a nice stroll around the beautiful city to contemplate Slovenia compared to such a affluent resort as Trieste. We guessed the wrong road back to camp that lead us high above Trieste. But what a view! The whole bay under a purple and pink sunset, mirrored by the calm sea. The campsite was only 5 miles from the city centre, so after 15 we turned around, opting to take the Autostrada back into town to follow the road we knew. Little did we realise we had turned around less than 100mtrs from the site! Geoff had his suspicions when he spotted the supermarket across the road from the site.
This morning I was really feeling the exhaustion from the mileage and lack of sleep, and was only too pleased when Geoff announced what a good idea it would be to stay for another day and find an internet cafe. Not easy trying to fit everything in before the time runs out so apologies for typing this so quickly because I know you can't read fast.....
So Trieste will have to put up with us for another day, but at least we finally found a small internet cafe after a mornings search. I bought some chain lube from a local bikeshop, after finding it tucked away on two shelves at the back behind rows of every fashion item relating to bikes imaginable. Even the full length mirror at the till, after which two customers had made full use of, buying extortionate items, made me look thin. It's not what you do or how you do it in Italy, it's all about looking good doing it!
Into Slovenia tomorrow following the coast down to Bosnia, should prove interesting!
1 comment:
Read your article in Riders Digest, just donated to Geoff's link to the Hospice.
I passed my bike test in April and have acquired an 02 Daytona 955 CE to help with my mid-life crisis. Good Luck in your travels, why don't you have a link for donating towards your running costs?
I'd like to chuck in a few quid to help keep you both going.
Best Regards
Steve Wood.
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