Day 21 - And So To Italia

Saturday 30th July 2016

I reach the ferry in plenty of time and queue up with half a dozen other bikers waiting to board. I get chatting with an Australian couple on a German-registered BMW K1100rs that they keep in Heidelberg when they are home in Australia.

They have been to the TT races in the Isle of Man and are now touring in Europe for a while before heading back to Oz.

Waiting to board

We are soon on the boat. It is absolutely airless and sweltering on the car deck. I quickly get out of my riding gear and don shorts and sandals. I grab the dry bag with my essential valuables and head up into the fresh air. 

Sailing out of Bastia

These ferries don't hang about. It takes less than half an hour to load the passengers and set sail out of the harbour. I stroll on the sun deck in a fierce head on breeze and find Raisa sitting in the sun. 

Raisa

It's a pleasant 4 hour crossing chatting about all and sundry with a charming fellow traveller over coffee in the air-conditioned lounge. I give Raisa direction to the blog and hopes he looks it up and keeps in touch.

Before you know it it's time to go back to the bike and suit up in the stifling heat. It's a relief to get off the ferry into the hot sunlight. I set the satnav for a campsite up in the Alps near Lago d'Iseo.

I've decided to stick to the autostrada and hang the cost. I bimbled through the back roads and byways of Tuscany a couple of years ago and was here again last year at Jake & Val's wedding. It is a beautiful area to ride but it takes a long long time. Now the Alps are calling. 

It seems to be a day for Bob Dylan on the internal jukebox in my head. The glorious autostrada from Parma to Brescia sweeps past tiny hilltop villages clinging to the high Tuscan hills above me

"In a little hilltop village they gambled for my clothes"
 
and

Sailing into Livorno

"I'm living in a foreign country
But I'm bound to cross the line
Beauty walks a razored edge
Someday I'll make it mine"

My ride gets faster and faster creeping over the 130kpm speed limit and up to 150 or more until I notice and slow things down a bit. The jukebox is driving hard now.

"Two doors down the boys finally made it through the wall
 And cleaned out the bank safe, they say they got off with quite a haul"

And then for some unfathomable reason I am singing the saddest song I know, every phrase a heart-wrencher

"If you see her say hello
She might be in Tangier......"

It's an afternoon of Blood On The Tracks.

I arrive at Camping La Tartufaia on the shores of Lago di Endine around 6pm, 400km on and €27.50 lighter.

Camping La Tartufaia

I pitch the tent on a high terrace overlooking Lago d'Udine. A voice says

"Hello Englishman, I think you need this"

and a can of beer is thrust into my hand.

Joan

Johan & Joan and their kids Josephine, Raoul & Noah (Dutch), and David & Chantelle with daughters Maite & Louise (Belgian) are my camp neighbours in their cars and tents.

It's another serendipitous meeting. What a great gang they are. They assume I must be hungry and without fuss they demand that I join them at their barbecue party. They appear to have an even greater tolerance for alcohol than I do and this evening I am plied with beer, limoncella, port and a (new to me) concoction of the whisky, chocolate and cream variety similar to Baileys.

Johann

The cream and whisky are in separate compartments of the bottle but pour as one. Joan works in HR for an international container manufacturer and this unique bottle is one of their products.

Slightly wobbly I finally retire to bed after 1am after a great evening swapping tales and making jokes. The Dutch boys are big Feyernoord fans and have an in-depth knowledge of English football. So of course I tell them all about The Blades.

Weird booze

The weather is started to look decided ominous. Joan is on-line and her weather app predicts thunderstorm in the near future. So I batten down the hatches and prepare for the worst. 

NEXT POST 

Storm clouds gather over Camping La Tartufaia