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!