Intro

This is my third attempt at writing a travel blog.

First was a record of my trip with four mates riding our bikes to Morocco and back. I never completed the blog and thanks to the boys I did complete the trip! link here:  maroc-or-bust
Second attempt was going to be a photographic record of my solo trip to France - Spain and back (using blog software Tumblr - inspired by my friend Alex Kaula and his friend Charlie New Orleans to Panama  - I was inspired by the blog software, not the trip - I'd never be that brave !!) but apart from a few initial photos uploaded prior to departure I was unable to upload anything while I was away.... the bear travels ... another failure. It was a fab trip btw.... apart from attempted murder by a Mercedes-driving Spaniard .... but that's another story.

So this trip is really an excuse to ride through some European countries en route for the annual Water & Ham Festival (aka Festival of San Juan) in Lanjarón in Andalusia, southern Spain. The idea for a crowd of us to meet up for the festival was mooted last June at Kate's 50th b'day bash. Not for me the simple act of jumping on a cheap Ryanair flight.... oh no! The excuse to make it a bike ride was just too great. So the plan started to germinate in my little brain sometime last year and quickly came to fruition just a couple of months ago. The steed of choice was to be Peg - my trusty Italian Mule (Aprilia with a Yamaha 660cc single cylinder engine).  She was in pretty good shape and only really needed fresh rubber for the trip.
I decided to forego another set of 'dual sport' tyres as the rear was wearing at an alarming rate- no doubt something to do with the incredibly shite condition of the Isle of Wight roads.... So proper road jobbies were fitted this time: Avon Storm Ultra 2 for the rubber fetish fiends among you!!

I spent many hours pouring over Google maps planning my route which was to be a quick blast across Belgium to Berlin spend a few days there with my lovely German family and zoom down to Czech Republik with the pretext of checking out some skiing resorts... then a few days in Austria mostly in the Tyrol region culminating with attempting to ride the  Grosglockner high Alpine pass (nearly 3,800m) link here . As I'd always wanted to visit Pompeii (and just seen a couple of TV programmes abut the place) a sojourn into Italy seemed apposite. By now I'm running out of time so decided it might be fun to see if I could get a ferry to Spain from Italy rather than ride around the top of Italy, through Monaco, south east France and into north east Spain (saving around 1,500km of riding). Yes! Grimaldi Lines sail to Barcelona (from Civitavechhia near Rome). I did wonder about getting a ferry to Tunis (which is possible from Sicily- again with Grimaldi) - ride through Algeria into Morocco and ferry from Tangier to Gib or Algericas but (probably fortunately) the border between Algeria and Morocco is closed at present. So ferry to Barca it is. A slightly different ride down Spain is planned: this time taking in the Cazorla National Park wiki link (where I did my 2-day off road training (for the Marok adventure) with Touratrail in 2011.

Plan is to camp as much as possible: at least 3 nights in Spain en route for Lanjaron. 2 or 3 in Italy and probably same in Austria and a couple in Germany. This plan is very dependent on the weather!

I managed to get my timing for the departure completely wrong! I decided to leave a few days before what I thought was the Bank Holiday weekend - turned out I left after the Bank Holiday and same week as half term! Why don't people tell me when it's a Bank Holiday - I always seem to get it wrong?

The adventure begins!

DATELINE: Tuesday 28th May 2013 
Wightlink ferry to Portsmouth - missing my planned departure - those who know me won't be very surprised!
Had a little task to carry out in Pompey prior to embarkng on the trip proper to Dover: Peg's tax disc was due to expire on 30 June so had to visit the DVLA office due to the fact that there are no Post Offices on the Isle of Wight capable of issuing a tax disc more than a month in advance ... eeesh  ....
So after a couple of hours messing about trying to find the place the mission was accomplished - kudos to Portsmouth DVLA - extremely efficient, pleasant and helpful.

My B&B in Dover was excellent and comes highly recommended (especially if you are on an early ferry). Which is more that can be said for the check-in arrangements at the port... a huge queue of lorries completely obscured the view of the check-in kiosks and no port staff around to ask for directions, etc., ...  but fortunately a kindly British trucker pointed out where I had to go....

Slight trauma unfolded trying to find the way to the passenger area on the very nicely appointed DFDS ferry to Dunkerque. Another couple and I found ourselves trapped in a stairwell with all the deck doors closed for nearly 15 minutes - even the lift would not let us out at the right deck level. Eventually we found the deck door would open.... 2 hours sitting on a metal stairway was not an enticing prospect!!

A pleasant crossing and no problem finding my way out of the port. However, for reasons I can't work out the satnav sent me onto the A16 motorway despite the fact I had programmed it to use country roads only. I wasn't too bothered as it was dry and continued for quite a while on this road until the rain started and never stopped until I got to my first overnight stop at Neuendorf in the Eifel region of south western Germany. I stayed at the wonderfully-named Vetus Tempus biker's B&B - highly recommended.

All the rooms are named after race courses and mine was the Assen TT ...

My hosts, Rob and Mia, couldn't have been kinder or more hospitable... and from the very short time I spent riding in this area I am sure that I will be back to explore it properly and spend some quality time at Vetus Tempus.

The next morning, this view as I glanced out of my bedroom window made me grin....

After a very hearty breakfast, it was time to head off on the next leg and the weather was fine ... but only for a short while.

Rob kindly took some photos of me prior to my departure ....
look, I know its only got one cylinder .... sure, isn't that enough for anyone?

notice the rain-laden clouds in the pic below

Neuendorf to Hohegeiß

DATELINE: Thursday 30th May 2013
2nd Leg: Neuendorf to Hohegeiß (Harz Mountains)

I had located another biker-friendly guesthaus about 450km north-west of Neuendorf, just near the start of the Harz Mountains, well-known to German bikers (at least) as being an excellent area for the twisties and had planned to head to that area. However, once more the weather intervened and turned foul. So, when the heavens opened again, I decided to get as close to my safe haven - Berlin -  as quickly as possible.  So back on the motorway and another nightmare, although not as bad as the Belgian experience. I was amazed at how many motorists on the motorways there didn't use dipped headlights in the atrocious conditions. It was really dangerous as you couldn't see traffic coming up behind you - crazy!!
The only real concern I had on the German motorways is that some of the traffic is moving at very high speed and constant awareness of what was happening behind is as important as what is happening in front, if not more so.
At about 7pm I came off the A2 motorway to re-fuel and felt so knackered that I resolved to stop at whatever  accommodation I came upon next. This happened to be the Hotel Friso in Helmstedt, about 250km south of Berlin. And it proved very fortuitous as it was an excellent hotel and biker-friendly as well!
Started writing this blog when I retired for the night - after a couple of very welcome beers of course.

Next morning up around 8am and although dry - rain clouds were gathering.  Das frühstück (breakfast) was better than any English fry-up.... apart from the usual boiled eggs, hot rolls, fruit juice, cereals, yogurt, cold meat selection, there was gravlax (cured salmon) and trout ... yummy.

Final push to Berlin . . .

DATELINE: Friday 31st May 2013

Left Helmstedt around 10am and headed towards Magdeburg, but went wrong somewhere and ended up in completely the wrong direction, in fact going back towards Helmstedt!!

Following the requisite mid-course correction, a fairly brisk ride before the weather reverted to what seems to have become the norm: rain, rain and more rain. At one stage I had to come off to re-fuel and took the opportunity to dry my gloves on the engine.

Not an original idea but effective.

Cracked on in the rain and eventually left the motorway and headed for Potsdam which I knew was south of Berlin. Leaving Werder (just south of Potsdam), had to leave the road and take shelter in the forest!
Couldn't see a damn thing...




An enormous angry thunder & lightening storm ensued with very heavy rain for about 15 minutes.

Peg hiding in the forest!


A lot of roadworks on the motorway slowed down progress, but eventually made it to my destination around 6pm

Berlin to Horni Blatna, Czech Republik

Tuesday 4^th Jun 2013

Pretty straightforward ride down, almost due south of Berlin, to just inside the Czech border to meet up with my Czech friend Denisa whose family have a holiday cottage there. Due to the unseasonal flooding all over central Europe, many roads and town centres were closed off to prevent water ingress and I encountered quite a few detours… one road closure prevented me from visiting Colditz Castle which was on my route. But at least it was a dry but overcast day, so making for a good paced ride. The tarmac included some motorway mixed with country roads – the only disadvantage with the country roads are the low speed limits: top speed frequently only 80kph and most bends limited to 70kph, and the Germans mostly appear to obey the limits which is most unhelpful for us ‘foreign johnnies’.

Checked the oil at a fuel stop and as it looked like the engine had burned a bit (it hadn’t) bought a litre: €15 yikes!!!

The road quality deteriorated very noticeably as the Mule & I headed towards Czech – I guess quite a large part of the country we were travelling through was former East Germany. Some of the Czech roads were covered in potholes and it was a pleasant surprise at how well the new tyres coped – no twitching or slipping, etc. In fact the only ‘moment’ happened on Friday, when I was coming off the very wet A111 motorway ramp to Hermsdorf in north west Berlin when the back gave a bum-twitching shimmy in tandem with a slight front weave due to some right-hand exuberance upon spotting a road sign displaying my destination. 

At one stage wandered into part of Leipzig, which has many large, ornate and formerly grand-looking buildings and trams all over the place. It’s very alarming when a tram crosses your path at an angle especially if you’ve only just spotted the red light overhead!!

Took the ‘over the top’ mountain route into Czech from Germany which is obviously a ski-centric area. It was very misty (and cold) at the border (no controls) and got to my destination at about 6pm – a good day’s ride. Was soon tucking into hot-from-the-oven homemade cake and a steaming mug of tea, courtesy of Denisa’s Granny. Quickly followed by venison (deer meat as Denisa says) goulash and Czech beer.  

R & R in Czech!

Saturday 8 June 2013 1.30pm
Horni Blatna, Karlovy Vary & surrounding area

Originally, I had planned to spend two days with Denisa, but in the end spent 4 nights and 3 & half days ... could easily have spent that many weeks. This is an incredibly beautiful country. Never seen so many trees!!
Once I collate my photos I will update this post, but if you have never been to Czech Republik, I can't recommend it too much... and if you have a guide like Denisa, then it can't get any better.

Shot down the almost empty motorway from Karlovy Vary re-fuelling just before Cheb and then into Germany. As the rain seemed to be mostly just behind me, I managed to miss most of it, only getting caught for a few minutes once or twice, not enough to have to stop and change into my winter gloves. I had to buy a new pair (summer gloves) in what seems to be the one & only bike shop (Yamaha as it happens) in Karlovy Vary - had brought a spare pair but foolishly managed to lose one in Berlin.

Re-fuelled again in Regensburg, after wandering around for a while trying to find a petrol station. The satnav has a function which lists nearby fuel stations but it had gone completely nuts listing those about 250km distant!!

Original route was to take the ring road around Munich, but having had enough of motorways, came off and headed towards Augsburg, just clipping the southern suburbs. On this route, saw a signpost for Dachau to the east, which sent a chill through my heart.

Once I got well south of Augsburg, I started looking for a likely stopover spot and soon came upon Hohenfurch and the very nice Gasthof-Hotel Negele. This route was about 400km, just right for a full half day's ride.

Austrian Sojourn

Sunday 9th June 2013

I have always loved Austria - an affection garnered over many years skiing there and this trip’s experience met all my expectations and more. Austria just never fails to satisfy, irrespective of the weather!  Fantastic roads, gorgeous countryside, great food & drink and beautiful women!! what more could a young man want!

Left the Hotel Negele at Hohenfurch at about 11am, having spent an hour on the free wi-fi, checking emails, etc. It was a beautiful hot (temp gauge recorded 25C at 10am) sunny day and for the first time donned my snazzy (cheap, too cheap as it turned out) sunnies...
Making good time with some speedy roadwork found me approaching the turn-off for Füssen which  I stupidly missed! But what a lucky break as I then enjoyed some cracking roads, with some absolutely perfect bends - pure joy to ride - amongst some stunning scenery.

This blog is becoming more like a weather report...

On my way to Garmisch, I made a planned diversion to Plansee where there is a large lake (and a campsite I had noted as a possible stopover). On google maps I had spotted a small track that led to Garmisch making quite a shortcut and I wanted to see if it was passable. It wasn’t -  it was gated and looked like a track for bicycles & walkers only. 

So I carried on in a north-easterly direction for Oberammaergau (where I re-fuelled) - was a fabulous ride but have to say the famous Passion Play town did nowt for me - a bit touristy & tacky for my liking. The nearby village of Ettal looked far more interesting and devoid of grockles.

Turned south for Garmisch-Partenkirchen (to give the town its full name) where the heavens opened - soaked again!!and never stopped - at one stage I had to leave the road and take shelter in some woods (again!!).

The amended rain-soaked plan was to go south towards Italy via Innsbruck but after studying the map I thought that heading for Sölden and taking one of the Tirol alpine mountain passes would be best, thinking these would not be as high as the Brenner Pass etc.  Once again I was wrong!! eesh...

Despite the rain it was a great ride to Sölden and part of it was on the well-known Romantische Straße (in English the Romantic Road - see the Wiki link) and it really is such a photogenic region - well worth a visit - I sound like a travel agent!

Got to Sölden around 5pm and looked at some hotels, but most looked a bit pricey and posh, and with me now looking like an old drowned rat, I didn't feel great walking into these pristine halls of perfection dripping like a wet Wednesday....

so pushed on for a few more km where I spotted the splendid-looking Bruckenwirt Gasthof in the little village of Zwielsetstein.

Photo of the mountain stream running right past the guesthaus

The charming barmaid, who spoke perfect English, soon sorted me a room in their nearby family haus and I returned to her bar later to sample some delicious pizza and a couple of beers.

I was amused to note that Austrian efficiency is as prevalent as ever. I did a double-take when I went to use the bathroom handbasin - only one tap!! and not the usual continental type with a lever... No doubt my more astute readers will have realised how hot and cold water can be dispensed from only one tap....

... and drawing on my previous Austrian experiences, I note that the predeliction for examining one’s stools still remains an Austrian obsession - I won’t inflict any photographic evidence on you, dear reader, probably best left to the imagination!

Fruhstuck was at 8am where another Austrian fraulein looked after me and I was under way by 9.30am heading up the valley for Obergurgl & Hochgurgl and the Timmelsjoch pass into Italy.

Austrian / Italian transit

Monday 10th Jun 2013

A grey, overcast day with ominous rain-sodden clouds looming large, draping the mountain tops set out in front of me. Nevertheless, off we went, the Mule & I, both well fortified from our Austrian sojourn. Peg had had the luxury of a huge garage, sharing only with a lone VW and I the  undoubted charms of a cosy room in an Austrian villa.

On the advice of the FF (Fruhstuch Fraulein) I scooted back down the road to Sölden to re-fuel, passing a group of 5 HDs (one of them was a lady rider), who also pulled in to fuel up; I followed them back up the road for a bit until the lead rider indicated for me to overtake them as they were travelling much slower than me. I duly obliged, pleased I was mounted on Mule and not a Harley ... they looked quite a handful with a 180° turn every 30m or so.



The weather turned from rain to icy rain, to hailstones, to snow over the course of the transit into Italy. On the way to the top of the pass (the Timelsjoch - not Stelvio as I’d mistakenly told the two Geordies later: it is the Stelvio region apparently) there is a toll - €12 Euro charge, but you do get an information leaflet, a thing like a ski lift pass (!) and a nice little sticker.

A very exciting and challenging ride, with, on a couple of occasions having to negotiate snow on the road! the back end didn’t like that much...



At the top there’s a restaurant and quite a few places selling souvenirs, etc., but I didn’t stop and continued down into Italy, finally stopping for coffee and a bit of a drip-dry at the delightfully positioned Gasthaus Schonau Timmelsjoch where I had my first of many delicious Italian brews. After about 30mins the Harley group boomed by - kudos to them ... it can’t have been easy.

The rain continued and made for a generally slow, miserable descent to Bormio where at last, the sun shone through and I gradually dried off.


Progress was terribly slow as there seemed to be no ring roads or bypasses and I found myself trundling through every town and village until I reached the outskirts of Lake Como and resolved to find accommodation as I was completely knackered due to getting embroiled in a gigantic traffic jam caused by a motorway closure and from keeping to the absurdly low speed limits (50kph on average) and eventually spotted a campsite near Como itself.

Set up camp (first time on this trip) next to two Brit bikers who turned out to be from Durham when we spoke next morning. Just had time to buy a bottle of beer & a packet of crisps (supper) from the camp shop/cafe before they closed and had an early night. Only downside was I managed to spill my beer so now have quite a stinky tent!!

The Geordies take off for yUK

On the road at about 10.30am heading vaguely south (no real plan apart from visiting Firenze). Managed to get lost but found myself in a lovely place not far from Lake Garda, which is a few km to the east (orignally had thought to camp at the north end of the lake).
Stopped for coffee at Lovere on the shores of the beautiful Lake Iseo, very Italian, hardly any touristas around and looked what I imagine St Moritz looks like. Spent about an hour there, chillin’ & watchin’ the world go by .... just like the locals! Could easily have spent a few days here (and as it happens should have).

Prompted to move on as an angry-looking black cloud was approaching from the north accompanied by sounds of thunder. A very enjoyable and twisty ride skirting the lake for about 5km ensued and once again, I managed to beat the rain.

Gladly taking the autostrada towards Bergamo I made very good time at last and thinking of looking for a bed in Cremona, decided to push on to the next town - Busseto - and found a lovely little hotel - Hotel & Ristorante Sole - in this charming town. Even had a proper dinner of pasta with wild boar ragu y insalata mixed with a bottle of birra  and a takeaway bottle for bed!

The Italian Job

Tuesday 11th to Saturday 15th June


Left Busseto at about 10am and already the temperature was nudging 22 degrees!

Busseto

Despite the iconic Italian countryside of rolling hills with rustic villas perched on top with the obligatory cypress grove, the view became boring almost and even vaguely artificial and I found myself wishing for some variety in the landscape.

Roads were a mix of Autovia and roads similar to British A roads but, again, progress seemed slow - I had definitely been spoiled by my German and Austrian experience. Eventually things got moving as I progressed towards Firenze (Florence for my English reader) using a toll road for the first time and a bit of a shock at the charge: 15 Euro for only about 175km!!

Fuel stop with Monte Cassino in the background!

Next stop for coffee & croissant was 20km south of Siena. Shame about the pole in the middle!!
Bought a another pair of sunnies at the petrol station - proper jobs this time - Route 66 was the brand so they gotta be right!
The previous pair were so painful that I had to remove them after a few minutes.

I got a bit lost trying to find Florence and ended roaming the hills above the city, at one stage following a local biker a bit to enthusiastically. I rounded a very tight downhill bend with too much lean and managed to scrape the sidestand rather violently which immediately threw the whole plot bolt upright and very nearly had me off. I calmed down after this little moment!

 I eventually hit Firenze and immediately ran into a little bit of bother with the local police. I was following a little dust-cart vehicle and didn't notice a pedestrian only sign and was stopped by two police - one was a man the other a woman. She went ballistic .... screamed at me to get off my bike - did I know where I was? I played the dumb Irishman - saying I didn't see the sign (in fact that was the truth). Apparently I was on some famous Florentine street! Well I had no idea where I was. The other copper wasn't in the least bit bothered but the female really let rip at me... 

I couldn't find anywhere to park and the streets seemed to be packed with Americans, so after half an hour of riding around trying to park I gave up and left the place ... I won't be going back in a hurry!

Photo taken of Florence when I illegally parked in a scooter parking place.

Left Firenze as quickly as possible, probably breaking a few more laws no doubt and wandered into the lovely little town of Castiglione on the shores of Lake Trasimeno. With the aid of the maps app on my phone I found a delightful Bed & Breakfast. Residence Castiglione is a huge 2-storey house with gardens and a large swimming pool and I was given a mini-apartment all to myself!

The B&B was situated just off the road in the photo above and  I walked up to the ancient village at the top and found a very well preserved but touristy centre with prices to match!

Unfortunately, once again, the [loud] sound of American voices pervaded the medieval atmosphere.

When I left the following morning, the lady owner came out to wave me off and I foolishly left my rucksack on the ground behind ... with her running and shouting after me! We did laugh and she asked me why I was rushing off and I replied that I had to see Pompeii, etc., to which she responded that I should remain in Castiglione - I wish I had....

After a good 6hr ride through the mountains, I arrived at Avezzano, quite a large town, but few hotels and choose one which although lacked any architectural merit turned out to be just right. Hotel Lory provided a good meal - I was alone in the restaurant and had the full attention of the rather nice waitress and after a couple of Italian birra went off to bed.

Part 2 of the Italian Job to follow .... where it all went wrong.

Part 2 of the Italian dream - sorry - nightmare

Friday 14 June
Up early - 7am- wolfed down the pathetic excuse for a breakfast ... delicious coffee, but Italians could learn a few things from the Germans and Austrians when it comes to feeding tourists in the morning ....

Found some great riding as I meandered southwards towards Napoli et al . . .

An amazingly straight tree-lined road at Scoppito

Below: San Casciano in Val de Pesa

 A lovely ride into Orvietto

Rolling hills & grassy meadows near Lucoli

The very photogenic Italian town of Orvietto:

The town of Capua also looked quite nice . . . stopped here for an energy bar & water

Montefranco, above.

Good ride as far as Cresata, when things rapidly went spiralling downwards towards crapville..... kept getting lost on the Autovia .... as soon as I exited one motorway, I ended up on another one!  I didn’t recognise many of the placenames and I knew in my mind that I had not done enough research of the area. Certainly nothing like the amount of time I had spent looking at Google maps of southern Germany and Austria. I guess my heart was never really in the Italian aspect of the trip. I really am a lousy tourist!!

At one stage I spotted a likely-looking tourist spot called Cava de Terreni (below).

Following a torturous winding narrow road that became one-way and finally petered away to an unmade track and suddenly I was off piste!!! The track became really steep and was leading to a private house (with a big locked gate) and only a very narrow rutted path leading off, I stopped to attempt an about-turn, stuck my right boot out and oops - nothing - nowt - nada - just a deep gully and over we went - Peg & I - a classic non-moving offie ....

Couldn’t pick her up so had to unload the baggage and after sweating like the proverbial pig, got Peg back the way she should be and slumped down to the ground and slurped nearly all the water I had. Eeeesh as somebody might say.

Above: a herd of goats cooling off (near Salerno)

The final straw arrived in the unbelievable melee at the exit from the toll booths: a complete and utter nightmare, especially for a biker (of which, I saw very few in southern Italy - and now I know why!). There were literally hundreds of vehicles all bunched together emerging from perhaps a dozen or maybe 15 toll booths scrambling to get a position on the six-lane exit road. It was mayhem - absolute carnage - several times I was nearly wiped out. No lane discipline whatsoever - no regard for anybody else - a complete shower of spaghetti-eating bastardos (my blog notes used stronger language, but I don't want to shock you, dear reader)....  failed to find Pompeii or Herculaneum and quite frankly by this time - nearly 9pm - I couldn’t give a damn!
In my experience this was far worse than anything I came across in Marok or anything I’ve seen in Thailand or southern Africa.  Everything I have read or been told about Italian motorists is in my opinion completely true.

OBSERVATIONE: 
In Italy, if you've got a horn, ya gotta blow it!
Most 5 year & over cars have dents at the front & sides but not the rear ...
Never saw any bashed scooters!

I suffered the indignity of falling off again (non-moving) at one of the motorway toll booths. I had pulled up to a pre-paid ticket only one and was paddling backwards (with a huge arctic behind me!) when I was stung in the neck by some nefarious flying stinging insect - probably a horse-fly - it really hurt and down we went. Managed to pick the bike up - well I had to as there was nobody about and the truck had got fed up waiting for me and gone to another booth. No damage done, fortunately. The air was a bit blue for quite a while though!


Port of Salerno, above.

I ended up by accident on the Amalfi coast, near Positano, looking for accommodation and stopped to consult my map when an Italian version of the well-known Moroccan travel agents asked me if I was looking for a room and gave me a business card. He said it was in Amalfi itself - it wasn’t (but was in the next village). 

 Looking back up the Amalfi coast ...

 The view out to the sea that I was increasingly keen to get across ...

I stopped in Amalfi village (town?) and an English guy came up to help me. Eventually found the Castiglione de Revello B&B where an elderly man was waiting for me and he showed me into a huge garage. The house and garage were situated right on the mountain side facing the sea - a stunning location. A rather spartan room but quite adequate. After changing out of my riding gear, I was gaggng for a beer and the old man pointed me to a place just up the coast, about 1.5km away.

So off I loped at a swift pace towards the hoppy oasis. A couple of beers and I was off to bed and slept soundly, determined to leave Italy as soon as possible. 

Sat 15 June

The almost eerie, ethereal early-morning view out of my window.

Up early - breakfast was another miserable Italian affair - on the road for 9am re-fuelling just north of Salerno at 10.30am, now well on the way for Civitavecchia and the way out of this dump.

Following the signs to Rome on the motorway the port was also signposted very early on (hmmm ... I wonder why?), I exited at Frascati East and easily found the port. Got a disapproving look from a copper for riding a few meters along a cycleway in the town - quite amazing there are such things as there are no cyclists!!

Was at the port 2 hours early so stopped a the convenient cafe at the entrance to the ferry complex. Had a beer and a tasty toasted sandwich and went off to find the ferry. No port authority staff to be seen - no signs to indicate ferry companies - destinations, etc. Nothing new there then - usual Italian inefficiency.

Eventually found the booking hall and checked in only to be told that the ferry would be two hours late in arriving.

There were about 100 Harleys, mostly French, but some Spanish and Belgian already gathered at the ferry gate and I was told to wait with them. Got talking to one guy who was from Valencia and he said he would just have to keep riding till he got home no matter what time the ferry docked on Sunday evening as he had to go to work on Monday, and its quite a distance from Barcelona to Valencia.

 Yay! we're finally boarding! The noise was incredible. . .

When the ferry did arrive it took at least an hour to unload and then another hour to load, so it was very late when we left. Not many people on the boat so there was plenty of seats available.

Managed a few hours sleep and the ferry first docked at Port de Torres (below, leaving the port) in Sardinia at around 8am (now Sunday) and left an hour later.

 

There were a lot of young people on board, mostly teenagers, who all gathered on the top deck area where there was a bar and swimming pool. The scene resembled an Ibizia 'happening' complete with a noisy disco and pizza & chips. Most of the kids were drunk by the evening!  Not sure how they could afford it - €€3.50 for a small bottle of Peroni. To be fair, my Internet research had revealed that food and drink was very expensive on this ferry and recommended a trip to a supermarket prior to embarkation ... advice which of course I ignored because it came from some ‘Rough Guide’ carrying eighteen-year old!  Stock up on rum & vodka!! 20 or 30 years ago maybe ... Would you believe it? I’ve grown up a bit ...

 Barcelona port.

Ferry docked at Barcelona 3 hours late altogether which made finding a hotel a bit restrictive, but I soon found a suitable place a few miles south of the city just off the motorway and gratefully retired for the night, feeling so pleased and relieved to be back in Spain - felt like coming home!

Out of Italy . . . back to where we belong... !Hola Espana!

Monday 17 June 2013
Departed the City Hotel Barcelona around 11.30am after a very good night's sleep and a hearty breakfast - cos I arrived so late, I'd had no supper, so I was starving! Already quite hot - all vents open...

It was so great to be back on the superb Spanish roads... these photos are of the N420 heading towards my 2nd overnight stop, planned to be at a campsite  somewhere south of Lleida and north of Alcaniz - the third photo in this group was taken at 21.25 local time and it was really still that bright. So needless to say I kept on riding, spotting a campsite at Lake Caspe (on the paper map), but when I got to the turn-off didn't like the look of the unmade road/track leading down to the lake so shot back to Mequinenza where one of my correspondents helped me find a couple of potential sites through the magic of text messaging . . . and I eventually got to Fayon, a purpose-built holiday village a few km to the east and up a very twisty narrow road, now getting quite dark.

As I was running very low on fuel, I stopped at an unmanned petrol station at the village entrance but a slight drama ensued... I couldn't get the tank 'boot' to open (to get access to the petrol cap) but knew that I could manually unlock it by removing the seat and fiddling with the electric locking mechanism. I didn't fancy unloading everything at this time of night so scooted into the village to find the campsite and resolved to fix the boot lock in the morning (and re-fuel).

Unfortunately the little campsite was full!

But I had spotted the Hostal Roca and the rather pretty young barmaid there managed to understand my pidgin-spanish request for a room (and a beer!). The girl showed me my room and I quickly dumped my gear and I shot back down to join the three men watching the football, gratefully supping an ice-cold bottle of Estrella. Meanwhile yer wan took my passport and asked me in broken English, marginally more comprehensible than my crucified Spanish if I wanted to eat...  It was late - around 11pm - and I grinned & nodded like an eegit. She said what did I want to eat and like the well-raised bloke that I am, I politely replied "anything".

Within minutes (or the time taken to sip a bottle of beer) I was presented with tostadas with a tuna melt type filling with salad (and another beer of course!).

About twenty minutes later I had polished the lot off and was feeling well and truly replete and debating (with myself, as one does)  whether I should reward myself for finding such a good spot by having one beer for the road when my lovely little barmaid placed a plate of steak & chips in front of me!! Well another beer and I had swept the plate clean but passed on the solitary cob (bread roll) which she presented when she came to take the empty plate. I signified that I was completely stuffed, hoping I wasn't going to have to face some Spanish version of bread & butter pudding...

Thankfully no more food appeared, but another lady who seemed to be the boss, possibly the barmaid's mother. She gave me back my passport and asked me if I wanted to park the bike in her garage - which was great.
Hostal Roca proved to be a right treasure of a place and is highly recommended - very basic and functional but a great welcome and they can certainly feed ya! Mum gave me a potted history of the place telling me the original village had been swamped by the lake when the authorities had built a dam and only the church spire was now visible. She showed me some photos of the old village and it was kind of sad and a bit poignant to see what was once a vibrant and real working community, now just a place full of holiday homes, populated mostly by wealthy Spanish, Brits and Dutch, etc.

Tuesday 18 June
Being somewhat full from last night I only had a lovely black coffee and some biscuits for brekkie and was on the road for about 11am.
Fantastic ride to Albacete - I will definitely be back to do this route again - can't put it into words - maybe I should video it...
I think it was about 450km - a long glorious day's ride. Was completely knackered when I got to the city and quickly found a hotel - Europa - and settled into the bar for a couple of beers and straight to bed and a very deep sleep (dreaming of the N420!).

A perfect surface, with bend after bend, you just can't help but get in the groove and ride like never before - so difficult to stop and take a photo!!

They got some straight stuff too - just to test your top speed...