Did you make it to Milan on time????

Well yesterday was a nightmare but today was worse. I started esterday just outside of Paris and had to get to milan by 9.30. It was possible but let's be fair, it was never going to happen. I had some firm words with the GPS and we came to an understanding, it seemed to be fairly ok following major highways and I needed to use them to make up for the massive lost time the day before. With that in mind I set off for Troyes. It all went wrong straight away when the GPS warned me of an imminent turn off in 1.3km and then told me I had missed my turning. So I decided to let the pink arrow point me in the right direction and just head off into the countryside. I'm glad I did, the French countryside is amazing. It's like England only bigger, cleaner and just... nicer. The roads were well maintained, people are friendly and the driving standard was good. Paris was none of those things but then all major cities suffer from the rot of over-population. I made it to Troyes eventually and plotted my way on to Mulhouse. With my success at Guestimation-navigation I was spurred on. This next leg was going to be a tough call so I stopped for a sandwich, filled my tank and headed off. A big guy cleaning the car-park at Lidls came over for a chat. It was an odd chat but we both established that we spoke almost nothing of the same language but he still seemed intent to chat about it. The low point was when my camera made a break for it and crashed out onto the road. I went back for it and luckily enough it was ok... then a van went over and after that... not so much.
By the time I was outside Mulhouse exhaustion was taking hold. I was aching all over but the scenery was keeping it worth doing and I was making reasonable time. I stopped at a petrol station, topped her up and made some new notes on my piece of scrap paper which has become my prefered method of navigation. I had a chocolate milkshake and bought more water. The sugar helped to perk me up. I usually dont eat sugar so it does have an effect on me. On getting under way I felt ok. The saddle was killing me and that was refitted with a gel comfort-pack. In standard trim it would have flayed the flash from my arse-bones by now. Now it was just slowly sapping the will to live. I can go on without that.
Once you cross the Swiss border you have to wonder what just happened. I followed the signs and as you get closer you start to notice that a lot of German drivers start to appear on the roads. They are not as friendly or as well mannered as the French. French bikers rule. Every one waves, every single one. I was dead impressed.
I approached another toll. Went through without having to pay and then realised I had actually crossed the border. 2 checkpoint so far and nobody has looked at my passport.
Suddenly everything was different. The lazy, laid back friendlness was gone, the archetecture, cars, everything was different. It was an instant difference, like switching on a light. Switzerland was, at first very nice but then the ghost of a mountain appears shyly in the distance. Just a vague sillouette poking through the mirky light, still as white as the cloud with the edge of a shadow cast on the face but no mistaking this is something imposing and with a real presence a puny Human could never aspire to. Slowly the mountain becomes real as i barrel along watching my milage, my guidance arrow and the conditions on the road while this thing bears down on me as if nothing I thought was important really matters in the wake of this reality of nature. Suddenly you're surrounded by them, mountains everywhere, tall and austere with a fearsome beauty carved from the elemental force of nature. There are elegant and subtle wooden and red-brick structures everwhere but they are in harmony with the surroundings, living in the shadow of these giants like humanity is permitted to exist in its tiny, insignificant way so long as the planet permits it. It's humbling to see the sheer scale of this and it was like driving for 5 hours through a picture postcard. I had to quicken the pace, I didn't take any breaks as I was fighting to outrun the sunset. Eventually I couldn't but I outran the weather, clouds and greyness came and passed as I travelled across countries. That was fun to see.
Every time you pass through a tunnel you seem to go higher. It was a daunting experience for someone with a genuine dislike of heights and not knowing what to expect was unsettling but in the end the height is only enough to reveal glimpses of the spectacle of man trying to carve an existence in this inhospitable landscape. It was a truly memorable time and I'm glad I did it, even though it was hard. The weather cooled too. One minute my BMW jacket was fully vented and the next I was having to seal it against the dropping temperatures. Another memorable but difficult part was a tunnel over 10 miles in length around Gotthard. After the growing cold the heat and stifling conditions were making my throat tight and made difficult conditions outright dangerous. After you finally exit it's like walking out of the shower into a cold room but that was still very welcome.
Eventually it became warmer and villages became towns but by then my speed had crept up and my patience was waning. It was dark by now and I still had a lot of ground to cover. The Italian border had one officer waving everyone through without exception and I was in Italy. Three countries in one day.
Italian driving standards are poor. Everyone drives as fast as they can and their skills do not match their enthusiasm. Entering MIlan finally I was hot, tired and ready for bed. I had to meet my partner by 9.30 and it was already around 11.30. I finally found the airport and stopped at a random hotel to ask for directions. I had a feeling that there would be some disaster so on checking my phone I found a message telling me that my partner had missed her flight. I swapped texts while asking for directions to the hotel and found out that, in fact the hotel and airport were not in milan but 88km back in the direction i had just come. I also found out I had left my HID lights on and the battery was drained and the bike wouldn't start.
All part of the adventure.
I was lucky enogh to find decent people to help out and was presented with a set of jump leads. I stripped the HID power leads which were directly connected to the battery and she fired straight away. I left her running while I packed the gear and she was fine. You make these mistakes when you're so tired, I guess. I headed back out to the main road and found signs to this other airport and headed off. My tools headed off in a different direction.
By the time I stopped twice more for directions I found the hotel. My number plate was smashed. I had fitted a Motrax unit which shook itself to peices and wrecked both new Oxford tail indicators at £30 a pair. I thought it would be easier than making one myself... wrong. I bodged it back on and the rear is now made of cable ties, insulating tape and yellow bungie cords.
Today... well my other half turned up on a morning flight and it was revealed our second night was in Milan central. That meant a mad dash back to check out and 5 hours of following plain wrong directions to find this hotel... which is nice but lousy too. Milan is not a nice place. The fashionable facade is typical Italian thinking. The whole country is built on style over function. There is a typically low quality to everything, they want it to look nice and be bright and pretty but don't care about anything else. Italian cars and bikes are built on this principal but it's everywhere. The people too... Everything is polished and all done for show but get talking to them and they just can't do anything. Even guide you to a street 100 yards away. We met and chatted with a Portugese group who were looking for directions and saw others looking blankly at maps. The city, likewise is a stylish facade thrown haphazardly over a crumbling infastructure of aging decaying buildings and tired workers who just do not care. These are just initial impressions, of course.
We found it using my partners I-phone much to my dismay.

Looks like an adventure....Keep up your trip...!

__________________
3mountainsadventure

Thank you. I don't have a choice really, we're stuck here. Ok, we don't much like Italy but we like being here. We went out for food and my partner declared, "I want Pizza." She is Asian and speaks in definite terms and makes it sound like we have no choice. The world will end if Pizza is not fed directly into the moan-hole as fast as possible. I thought it best not to tempt fate so decided to get her fed. Anyway, we're in Italy (delicious food that's as healthy as chewing glass, see my previous comments). Actually, on an aside there is no obesity here, unlike my hometown, London. People are very, very healthy. My brother would love it, many MILFs. Lots of women with impressive bodies who turn around and it looks like their face is melting off.
So anyway... food, we went looking. nothing but graffitti and closed down business (like London). I got eyeballed by every man as we walked by. I don't know if it's down to the mixed race but that was actually my impression. Lots of Chinese people here and they're not seemingly well integrated. We found one Pizza, Self service... Now I didn't fancy making my own Pizza as I was so tired that if someone had given me a sheet of paper I would have slept under it. It was run by Asians. Traditional Italian food made by Asians. She thought it was great, "We're taking over your world..." She told me. It's a good job she's pretty or she'd be walking home.
In the end we only found one Pizza place and it was just a dingy takeaway. The food was good, no doubt about that but it wasn't what we've gone to all this trouble for.
Tomorrow we head to France. The rain is in hard tonight. It's meant to be dry tomorrow followed by more storms and the storms take no prisoners here. We're taking a long coast ride tomorrow to head down to Grasse. That is a longish trip but swallows a bunch of ground while the weather holds. Sunday is not so good but we've not got far to go.
I have sunburn and insect bites. Pics to follow but the hotel internet is really crap. Crap and expensive.

I want to see pictures... and coz you lost your camera you will have to use your other halfs, so tell her "NO FLOWER PICTURES"................

Civilization ends at the breakfast bar

We woke up on the alarm and I debated if I wanted to partake of the free Italian breakfast or just lay in bed for a couple more precious hours. In the end my stomach won (as usual). There was at least one other English couple, I could tell from the pasty rolls of flab but hearing them speak in a low gutteral drawl as the clincher. An entire community of Indians had pretty-much taken over the breakfast bar like vultures. The hotel remained typical of Italian culture. nothing really worked but it looked good. This was extended to the food. My other-half fought off all comers for the last slice of chocolate cake and then took one mouthful and gave it to me. It was not chocolate or indeed cake. In fact nothing had more than a passing resemblance to food. If there are any Italians reading this then i apologise because I know you probably can't reply as your keyboard is a piano-black diamond-encrusted piece of art wrapped around a steaming pile of chinese dog-crap.
She wanted to see central milan. We did. It wasn't too bad, very big and typically poorly signed so my sat nav arrow guided us slowly out. Some of the streets were cobbled and gave my suspension a work out. With all the upgrades she took it in her stride but I had to pop my eyeballs back into my skull twice. Signs marked no entry were ignored by me and the police who watched me do it. In fact the only function the police appeared to have in Milan was to keep the sunglasses trade in business. When we finally escaped Milan we hit the motorway and proceeded to empty our cash reserves into the pockets of the Italian government at every toll.
At our first stop we had a coffee. I ordered Coffee, she had hot chocolate. They said no but offered Ca-Cak. I assumed Coco and asked if that was right. They agreed in the typically Italian way by grunting. My coffee was served in an egg-cup and hers was just hot milk. Mine was black and strong enough to run my bike on. The first sip was like it was made of pure evil milked from the nipple of the devil himself. After that i grew to like it. When we got out two Italians were laughing at my bike. One was on a Ducati and the other was on an Aprilia Pegaso Strada that had virtually rotted through. I laughed back. We all laughed and nobody had any idea who was laughing at who or why.
We plodded on into Genova. I wanted to cut off the corner and save some miles but the signs were't on my side. I'm glad they didn't.
5 miles out of Milan and the countryside began to take a grip. Slowly the city was repaced with large concrete carbuncles as industry supporting the consumerism takes hold of the region. Another 5 miles and that thinned out into farm.
20 miles out of Genova and a whole different Italy appeared. Ancient culture painted itself on the sides of mountains and the scenery grew to be spectacular, both man-made and natural. Genova was huge and painted on a backdrop of money. We didn't stay long, time was not on our side today. Just long enough to lube and clean my chain and make sure the bike was happy.
She was.
We carried on towards Nice. We just didn't seem to make time today. We stopped at the drop of a hat but even so...
We followed the coast road and it's clear it was designed for and by bikers. Motorcycle have been built just for this route, i'm sure. It was amazing and beautiful. Slightly irritating as we had to slow to every one of the many villages catering to tourists but still awesome. Pics were taken but nothing can compare to being there. It's worth the whole trip just to see this.
Finally we made our way to the autostrada for the final leg of the trip today towards Grasse in France. We made more frequent stops now as we were both getting tired. The saddle sore is getting worse and it was her first day on the bike today so she's beginning to feel it too.
The coast roads gave way to high mountain top roads battering us with the wind and we cranked on to make up some ground. We won an hour back from the sat nav on that stretch. Finally we descended towards the final toll at Monoco. I seemed to be the only bike filtering but we bardged our way angrily to the front of the queue.
We still had to sit and wait and the bike got very hot. Accelerated away she grumbled for the first time but we were 400m above sea level and climbing and I was accelerating hard 2 up with massed luggage. I stopped soon at a service station and let her cool. We had no more hassle from her after that.
Finally we made Nice but bad timing meant we got stuck in the crowds of a football match. The bike was getting very hot now so I filtered as far as I could and then stopped her. We went shopping for dinner but there was nothing left, the crowd had emptied the supermarket. By the time we carried on it was getting dark but we went looking for food. She wasn't sure what we fancied but I was getting dangerously tired. I took a bad turn and nearly went into a car so then i stopped and gave her a choice of whatever was in front of us. While eating I checked the maps for the last leg. Apparently 10 minutes into Grasse, another 10 to the hotel.
After a few wrong turns we followed signs to Grasse. Then the signs ran out. We were now at 10.15 and they close the hotel at 11pm. I asked directions and got a good idea where we were, apparently still a long way from Grasse, and this was after 20 minutes on a motorway. I plowed on quickly and finally the roads petered out to nothing, we were just heading along winding country lanes the went nowhere. I asked directions again, assuming I'd missed a turn to be told we were still 25 minutes out. With another 10 to find the hotel I now couldnt make it on time. In a surreal late-night dash i covered this 25 minute trip in 9. I cranked her up and threw her about like the little single she is, ignoring the weight and the fact we were on a mountain pass with no safety barrier at 750m above sea level. It was like a special unlocked mission on a bad playstation game. we belted along and it was the best fun ever.
But then disaster....
We were getting tired now. My eyesight was blurry and I was literally having to make a conscious effort to speak or drive on the correct side of the road. I needed to get to this hotel and get to sleep.
Suddenly we found the sign to Grasse... I had 10 minutes to find the hotel, all I needed if the advert was right, more than I needed if I could keep up my pace.
Grasse was right there before us and it was closed. There was a festival going on and nobody could drive through. I gathered this from speaking to people who couldn't grasp the urgency... I couldn't even find the phone number of the hotel.
Luckily I found a policewoman who spoke good english and she kindly radioed ahead and let us through the barriers although the middle of the town was still fenced off so we had to pick our way round. The hotel stayed open for us and we found it by more luck than judgement.

It's certainly proving to be an eventful trip...

And finally a word about my bike. Awesome. We all love our bikes but she is dealing with this like a pro. One minute we're making mountain passes, cobbled paths or fire-roads along the side of a river and the next we're up a mountain thrashing her like a sports bike after a 400 mile day. She's proving herself every bit the modern equivalent of the true spirit of the GS, the go-anywhere, do anything motorcycle. After today we're slowing down. We're moving too fast, filling our days with just too much blur and excitement. We're not really doing anything, we're just seeing it. Tomorrow we're having a nice easy day and then the day after, a slow ride into Spain and then a day off the bike. I'm putting an hour or two aside to go over her and make sure she's holding up as well as I think.
Tomorrow I need .... and lots of it...