Staying Local 2008 - I Smell A Rat

We had plans. Never before had we been to the southwest of France. Never ridden through The Pyrenees, criss-crossing the Spanish boarder. This year was going to be no exception. Two weeks before our departure Guzzisue came down with a virus and not wanting to keep it to herself, passed it onto Ian the week before we left. Feeling tired and weak, my fellow travellers decided that staying local would be a better option. Staying local insured that we were never more than 450 miles from home, as the proverbial crow flew, still giving us many new locations to visit.

Disaster was averted on Friday, when loading up the Guzzi. Ian managed to break a strap on the Baglux harness. Panic was setting in when he went to a local cobbler who could send the harness off for repairs. It would be returned within six days! A customer in the shop recommended Timpson’s in Arnold, approximately three miles away. With nothing to lose, Ian headed Timpsonwards.

‘Leave it with me for twenty minutes’, said the very nice man behind the counter, so he did.

Twenty minutes later and one harness had been repaired. The cost? Just some change into the charity tin.

Guzzi packed, Guzzisue managing to leave work early, we were heading for Dover by18:30, arriving at the hotel by 22:00. Our indoor picnic of biscuits, chocolate and service station sandwiches helped us to sleep.

Next morning we were woken by the sounds of other residents departing for the early ferry. We decided to follow their lead and made our way down to the port terminal, only to find a long queue. Ferry times had been altered due to a damaged ship; therefore two into one will go! The saving grace was that it was September and not the height of summer. We joined a group of bikes waiting to board, on their way down to the Alps.

A good advantage for crossing the Channel on a motorcycle is that we are first onto the ferry and first into the restaurant, where a ‘Full English’ was on the menu. Breakfasted, it was time to stretch our legs and have a walk around the ferry. This year saw a new innovation – 7 Minute Massage.

Arriving in Calais we picked up the signs for Dunkerque and headed off through the Low Lands. Belgium came and went without us noticing, Holland would have been the same, except that Ian took a wrong turn, confusing the Dutch word for exit as the next place we were aiming for. A quick about turn and we were back on the correct road and heading for our destination in Germany.

Upon reaching the town we were staying for a couple of nights, signs like this were very helpful.

Hotel found, Guzzi unpacked, into town for a meal and drink. Our first impressions of the town were that for Saturday night, things were very quiet. Perhaps we were in the wrong part of town. The weather forecast for Sunday is promising, but a chance of rain on Monday. We are on a new adventure, so who cares?

Round Britain Rally 2011, Planes And Boats And Trains

Well the RBR has finished for another year. The usual ‘adjustments’ having to be made during the course of the event. One landmark was sold and moved piece by piece to another location, another, a Roman Milepost was hit by a car and had to be removed for running repairs (groan). Repair work also was required for a statue of John Perry so we took an exciting picture of his plinth.

As has become the custom, the RBR season kicks off with the ARSE, the Annual Rally Starting Event. This year’s gathering took place at the Ellesmere Port Canal Museum where over 50 entrants met for the obligatory group photo. The object to photograph was the anchor sculpture, situated near the café. Yes, one or two people did snap the wrong anchor.

Doctor Beeching’s axe saw the closure of many rail lines in the UK during the 1960’s, however one line that closed before his hand gripped the shaft was the Southwold to Halesworth line. On this local line, at Whenhaston, Suffolk, a plaque depicting the site of the local station has been erected.

To some extent this phoenix looks set to return, as there is a project to reinstate a small section railway, complete with a heritage centre.

There was one type of railway that Beeching could not get onto his report, the cliff railway. This year’s event saw the inclusion of several of these, two of which we visited on the weekend of our motorcycle club’s rally weekend.

On the way down to the rally site we stopped off at the Lynton and Lynmouth Railway. Lynmouth is on the A39, a road to Devon and Cornwall that is often by passed for the dual carriageway of the A30 and M5 motorway. Built in 1890, this water balanced funicular railway works in contrast to other water operated railways. Often water is released from the lower carriage until it is lighter than the top one, whereas on this railway, water is added to the top carriage from the West River Lyn.

Having stopped for some ‘Traditional’ fish & chips, we got into conversation with a local biker, resulting in a rather longer stay than anticipated. We vowed to return here for a longer stay in the future. Little did we realise that it would be sooner rather than later.

‘This one will be easy to find’, said Ian about the Babbacombe Cliff Railway. ‘We just head for the coast and follow it round’. Reaching the coast and following it round took us all the way around the headland and into a housing estate! When in doubt, ask the local postie, who put us on the right track. The plans for the Babbacombe Railway were put forward by Sir John Newnes MP, the man who built the Lynton and Lynmouth Railway. Sadly they were not approved until after his death. The line was completed in 1926.

The railway took us down to a secluded, almost deserted beach. Well it was mid May so that could have been the reason. The beach bar was deserted and the snack bar did a roaring trade in tea and coffee, with ample choice on where to sit.

Grove, Oxfordshire, was the destination for the ‘plane’ part of this post. And that is where we found this De Havilland Venom. Although Grove was reputedly the busiest airfield in 1944, there remain only a few derelict buildings around the area. This particular aircraft once belonged to the Swiss Air force and then Aces High. Not surprising is the fact that part of the airfield has now been turned into a business park.

2007 It Had to Happen Sometime-Smoke Gets In My Eyes!

Up, breakfasted and packed. All we could do now was wait for our taxi to arrive. We spent a little time with the hotel manager, conversing as best we could. Finally it was time for our departure. Farewells exchanged, we loaded up the taxi with panniers, tank and roll bags, motorcycle clothing and leaving just enough room for ourselves.

With no idea where we were headed all we could do was admire the scenery, making a mental note to hopefully return one day. Our chauffeur pointed out several things of interest, including what the French speed cameras look like. They are now on the increase, with as much resentment for them in France as there is in Blighty.

We arrived in Aix-en-Provence, approximately 30kms north of Marseille. The taxi’s sat-nav directed us to a street with no sign of a motorcycle shop. We were all looking a little confused until Guzzisue noticed a small sign pointing down between two works units. With nothing to lose we proceed down the opening. Lo and behold, there was the bike shop, situated in a large open space.

All of our belongings were removed from the taxi and gathered into a pile whilst we found the Guzzi. She was hiding in a throng of motorcycles, along a wall by the side of the workshop entrance. A mechanic approached us and informed us that

“Everything is OK. No parts needed.”

Ian did enquire if electrics are OK, to which we had the same reply.

“Everything is OK. No parts needed.”

We looked around the vast showroom until the paperwork had been completed and the bill settled. All that was left was to bring the Guzzi to the front of the shop

and load up. We are very close to the southern coast of France on a hot Wednesday afternoon with a ferry to catch on Friday morning. All that we can do is start heading north.

We did not want to travel the same route back and so we headed for the A8 to Salon de-Provence, where we continued north on the A7. It was in this area where we had our first flight on the Guzzi. A car cut across three lanes of traffic to exit on a slip road, hitting our left pannier and Guzzisue in the process! The Guzzi was momentarily airborne, landed, shook her handlebars and carried on! We still have the impact mark on the pannier today.

Stopping the night in Valance, we were making good progress, leaving the city of Lyon until the morning when we all would be fresh, having had chance to soak away any aches and pains.

Next morning we awoke with the sun and were on our way. The timing was good and we defeated the traffic in Lyon, hitting the city after the rush hour. Onwards we travelled, stopping at a service station for fuel and food, briefly talking to a girl motorcyclist who was singing the praises of Central France and its scenery. We make a mental note to consider this for the future. It was after leaving the service area that things went rapidly downhill.

We were over 300kms from Calais when the warning light came on again. Ian had no choice but to carry on. I’m sure that “Everything is OK. No parts needed.” Was going through his head at the time. Guzzi electrics have been a standard joke for many years, so why should ours be any different. Ian was just overtaking a couple of lorries when I first smelt something very close burning. Trying to attract Ian’s attention he finally looked down, just after we had passed a slip road for a service area. Quickly pulling onto the hard shoulder he shouted to Guzzisue to get off.

To make things worse a police car pulled up right behind us. They were not helpful as they refused to get their extinguisher out in case it was needed. One of them helpfully poured some water onto the smoke! Ian’s expression says it all!

Here is the damage.

“Everything is OK. No parts needed.” As Jim Royale would say ‘MyArse’

To their credit the police did message for a recovery wagon, however they would not let us push the Guzzi up the slip road so that we could wait in the shade and get something to eat. Away they went leaving us to stew in the sun.

It was over an hour before the recovery wagon appeared, waiting at the top of the slip road from the services! Ian had to then do what the police would not let him do earlier, push the bike back up the slip road!

I was getting a sense of déjà vu here as onto the back of the wagon we go.

Not knowing where we are, we are dropped off at a Moto Guzzi dealer in an industrial area.

The unit is closed for lunch so to pass time we look next door at the Ducatis. Lunch finished and we stroll into the shop. They have very little in the shape of spares, even less for our old Guzzi. Bottom line is that they cannot help us but they do talk to the wonderful Carole Nash help desk. Eventually things are sorted and we are going to be taken, with the Guzzi to another garage.

Guzzisue books the last room available in the local Campanile Hotel, from which a taxi will pick up Ian and Guzzisue in the morning to a car hire company for them to get home.

Me? I decided to stay and keep the Guzzi company.

What did we learn from this?

Ian got so involved in trying to get an injured motorcycle home that forgot how to relax and let things take their path, also to have more faith in the people sorting out repatriation of the ailing motorcycle. Incidentally this was taken to our friends at Italia in Lincoln where a Ducati rectifier was connected and is still in place today.

Having googled Digne looking for links for the last few posts, we could have seen much more of the area just by catching the local train. A fine example of ignoring our own advice!

Guzzisue, due to the nature of her work, finds things difficult when she does not learn about things first hand. She must learn to take the chill pill sometimes.

And me? After my near death experience with the rectifier going up in smoke so close to me, I was humbled after Ian told me when we were reunited, he was asked by the Carole Nash representative:

‘Is there anything of value on the motorcycle?’

‘Yes, a bear, Biker Ted’

‘A toy teddy bear?’

‘No. Biker Ted. He’s our travelling companion!’

‘Are you serious????’

‘Very!’

2004 Within These Walls - We Shall Pass

Here I am at 09:20 waiting in place for Ian and Guzzisue to appear. I was a little impatient as the sun was out and I wanted to ride.
They turned up 10 minutes later and we headed for the first pass of the day, the Jaun Pass.


This was then followed by the Grimsel Pass



and after doing some Marmot watching at the top

we headed down the Furker,

onto the Oberal, then onwards to the Lukmanier before ending the day completing the San Bernardino.


The day was spent in glorious sunshine with wonderful scenery. We saw a glacier and several large dams and snow on the mountain tops. Things are a little vague as we just lost ourselves in the joy of riding such great biking roads. If only we could bring them closer to home!
With the evening drawing in we stayed the night at the Hotel Suretta in Splugen.
Having unpacked the Guzzi it was time for a walk around the town. This didn't take too long as it was a very small place. It did however give Guzzisue chance to take a few photographs.

2004 Within These Walls - The Wheels Turn

In time the title for this year's trip will come apparent, even if it sounds a little obscure at present.

We all awoke at 04:30, loaded up the Guzzi whilst watching young fox cubs in the garden and were on the road to Dover by 05:15. The only problem we encountered was on motorway where a lorry had gone down an embankment and two lanes had been closed for its recovery. The tailbacks were quite lengthy but Ian managed to filter without any problems. After this the motorway was quiet and we made good time and were able to get on an earlier ferry.
At Dover there were several bikes already queuing as it was Assen weekend, the majority of them being race reps with the pillion having to carry a haversack on their back. Three cheers for panniers, tank bags and racks!
Docking at Calais at 12:30 we were soon on the motorway heading towards Reims, stopping to speak to a couple that had stopped on the hard shoulder. They had run out of petrol and were waiting for service recovery. They recognised us from off the ferry and later caught up with us at the next service station. It had cost them over £100 for half a tank of petrol (and we go on about petrol prices today!) and were hoping to claim on their insurance when they got back home. I have a feeling that they would not have been successful as it may not have been deemed a mechanical breakdown.
Whilst at the services we also met three people from Derby/Nottingham that were in France for their first visit. They had no idea where they were, or were they were going as they had no map.
The group had set off at 23:00, caught the 05:00 ferry and caught up with us at 15:30!
We finally reached out destination for the evening at 17:45, Campanile at Troyes, after Ian taking a wrong turn and getting caught up in a wedding reception party crossing the road.
The weather forecast for tomorrow is 30 degrees with wall to wall sunshine.
Recapping on the day there was very little to report on, the most surprising was seeing a Guzzi and racing sidecar on a roundabout, complete with passenger leaning out. We also had a police motorcyclist wave to us. Once again the SKAT sticker puzzled several people.

2003 Scandanavian Circle - All Breakages To Be Paid For......Eventually

We are beginning to get used to these early starts as we are all packed, breakfasted, cabin cleaned and on the road by 8:30. Ian decided to take the A roads rather than the motorway and we were rewarded with empty roads once Gottenburg was left behind.

Having caught a few spots of rain the sun decided to come out making our exit from Sweden very pleasant. If only the welcome into Norway could have been the same as within minutes of entering the country the heavens opened up and waterproofs were put on and taken off all the way to Lillehammer.

Guzzisue needed to stop to cash some travellers cheques so this was done in a small town bank. This took about 20 minutes as nobody behind the counter could work out what they were!

Money sorted and we are on the way again and then Ian starts to have problems changing gear as the gear selector return spring breaks. The Guzzi is still rideable but Ian will to do a lot of left foot dancing on the toe and heel gear change for the rest of the holiday. We had thought about spending a little time in the fjord region again but now decided against this.

We can tell that we are back in Norway as the price of the cabins increase. The one we stayed in at Lillehammer costs as much as a motel 20 miles outside of town. On the plus side we can walk into the town centre and cook for ourselves.

In the evening we catch the news to find that there has been serious flooding with tunnels being pumped out by the fire brigade and campsites along with some roads being washed away. It was a wise decision not to go round the fjords. There was also a story about New York being plunged into darkness with a massive power cut.

2001 An Italian Odyssey - In Which Guzzisue Gets Icicled

I’m not sure if the Guzzi was trying to tell us something this morning as she was refusing to start. Well it was quite cold but a change of plugs soon got us on the road.

For a change we rode up the Timmelsjoch and as we climbed it got cooler. Going through the tunnels Ian was being cautious of the water on the road, until we heard Guzzisue say ouch. Ian hadn’t done anything but Guzzisue told him to look up, she had just been icicled! On the tunnel roofs there were lots of icicles forming,some being two feet in length and one had broken off and hit Guzzisue, this also meant that the water was in fact ice on the tunnel floors. More caution was needed. No surprise here but we hit snow again on the pass.

Having paid the toll and collected the sticker it was into the café for a hot chocolate and warm up, well after Ian had worked out how to open the door.

Reutte is a town in Austria that we had passed through each time on our way to Italy, so we decided to stay here for a couple of nights and at about £20 each per night was pretty good value.

2001 An Italian Odyssey - Head For The Hills

There is always a little excitement in the body as we hit the road again. Today we followed the west coast of Lake Garda from Lazise all the way north to Torbole and then onto Trento, where in the time honoured fashion we got lost.

Eventually finding the correct route we headed for the Dolomites and having done a couple of mountain passes and got through Predazzo without losing a rear light lens or bolt for the rear mudguard we decided to stay in Corvaria in Badia for a few days.

The first hotel that we tried was too expensive but we managed to find a time share apartment in a block that did bed and breakfast for less than half the price as they did discounts for bikers! We decided to stay for four nights.

During our stay in Corvaria we did the usual trips in cable cars up the mountains, once seeing a young girl with her wheelbarrow walking up to a rescue hut with her parents, much to many people’s amusement.

On another day we took the Guzzi out and rode some of the local passes and stopped outside a café at the summit of Passo Pordoi, where several people were surprised to find not only a Guzzi but one with GB plates. Talk about taking things easy, it took us three hours to do 60 miles – but that did include a coffee stop. Not all rides have to be fast to be enjoyable.

One morning they even brought out the band for us! Well I like to think that anyway.

2001 An Italian Odyssey - Lift Off

I will not dwell on the first couple of days of this years travel as it very similar to the previous adventures heading towards Italy. We stopped off at the Prunellia Hotel in Verdun again for the first night and then managed to get into Austria for the second before entering Italy on the Sunday. Having managed to work out how to use the automatic petrol pumps and battled to get off the motorway near our destination, Lazise on the shore of Lake Gada was reached.

Lazise is a small town that has some walls and a six-towered Scaligeri castle and was also the most important trading post and the first independent commune when under Venetian rule, so our guide book told us.

We struggled to find accomodiation as most hotels were fully booked or just had a room for one night and we wanted to stay in the area for a few days. Eventually we found a hotel not far from the lake and took the attic room, no balcony and sloping ceiling so we had to be careful where we walked.

2000 Déjà-vu - The Homeward Journey Begins

Today we managed to travel 360 miles from Canazei to Heidelberg travelling on some fantastic roads, especially the one we took to get to Bolzano. It was not safe to stop and take photos of this unfortunately as it was used by many tour coaches and there was not any safe parking places.

In Heidelberg we tried to get into the same hotel as last time but it was full, however the tourist information centre found the Anlage Hotel just outside the old town with off street parking for the Guzzi. The hotel is an old building that the Addams Family may have enjoyed living in. There were some period pieces of furniture place throughout the building and a large window with stained glass on the stairway. We were given the old servants room in the attic with an electric skylight window that closed automatically when the thunderstorm struck during the night.

The following morning we located a station for the funicular railway and travelled to the top of the cliff and walked a little way before heading part of the way back down to walk round the castle grounds. Afterwards it was time for more window shopping for Guzzisue whilst Ian and myself headed for the large record store that we visited last time. I’m not sure if it is a good thing that the Guzzi’s panniers are the wrong size to fit vinyl lps in.

When we arrived back at the hotel a flyer had been placed on the Guzzi from the International Motorcycle Touring Club. The flyer was offering membership to the club along with advice on touring abroad. We declined the offer.

On the evening news programmes throughout Europe there were items of growing unrest due to the rise in petrol prices, with England having serious problems. There is nothing we can do but carry on heading back home.

One night is spent in Béthune before heading back to Calais for the ferry home. In Calais we decide to fill right up in case there are any fuel shortages back home. Once filled up the Guzzi was being a little temperamental and refusing to start. It eventually fired up and while Ian was looking for some paper towel a car window opened and a roll was passed to Guzzisue. The lady in the car said that she had seen us down in Italy!

Back in Dover the petrol station at the port entrance was closed due to lack of fuels. The ride home was tense and slow as we crawled from station to station in search of the motion lotion, finally finding some on the A14 north of Cambridge with minimal queueing with a policeman there to keep watch and make sure there was no fights at the pumps. We made it home with the petrol that we managed to find and reported in to Ian and Guzzisue’s parents.

2000 Déjà-vu - To The Top

The Guzzi was left in the hotel garage for a couple of days as we went riding the cable cars and hiking up the mountains. There was some fantastic views around but the signposts on the trail left a bit to be desired as we walked further than necessary.

In a souvenir shop Ian found a small sticker for the Sass Pordoi, the pass that we ventured up yesterday with the 34 hairpins.

We went on the cable car to get to La Terrazza Delle Dolomiti (The Panarama Terrace Of The Dolomites). Looking across the way it looked like there were hoards of ants heading to the summit of another mountain, but it was just a continuous line of climbers. The restaurant on the plateau had on the menu meat in a tomato sauce with pasta, which Ian decided to try having got a little tired of spaghetti bolognaise. The meal was prepared and out came a plate of spaghetti bolognaise! If only they had said that in the first place.

The whole area is a Mecca for bikes and with great roads it is easy to see why.

Next day we walked down to the next village and rode in another cable car and watched a group of hang gliders preparing their equipment and having to wait for the therms. To avoid being stuck on the mountain top until mid afternoon as the cable car stopped running at lunch time we descended at midday.

Back on ground level we got talking to fellow Guzzi riders, one from Austria and one from Slovakia.

That evening our pizzas were prepared by a Ducati rider who had parked his motorcycle outside the restaurant. It was well admired and we wanted to ride it away.