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!’

2007 It Had to Happen Sometime-Marooned

Whilst travelling back to our base in Dignes, Ian glanced down at the warning lights console and noticed that the charging light was illuminated. Still 35 miles away from our base we decided to press on. The Guzzi managed to return us to the hotel, but the warning light stayed lit. Ian was concerned about this, in fact he was that concerned that he phoned Carole Nash Insurance stating that he was certain that there was something wrong with the charging system. It was agreed that the Guzzi would be picked up the next day, Sunday, and taken to the local Moto Guzzi dealer to be checked out on Monday.

Sunday and we had to stay at the hotel after breakfast to await the recovery vehicle. Eventually the transporter arrived and Ian helped with the loading.





Watching the Guzzi disappear around the corner, realisation hit us. We were marooned in Dignes! Throughout the following days Ian received phone calls on the Guzzi’s progress. Monday, Ian was informed that the motorcycle shop that the Guzzi was being taken to was closed. Tuesday, the shop had not got any time to look at our motorcycle. Ian informed the insurance representative that we had a ferry booked for Friday morning and could they pass this information on to the repair shop. Later in the day Ian received another call informing us that the motorcycle would be ready for collection on Wednesday.

The above events meant that we had a prolonged stay in Dignes. The manageress of the hotel took pity on us and we were transferred to a larger room for the same price for a couple of nights. We were leaving, then not. Ian was becoming like a bear with a sore head! Guzzisue was getting irate because she was slightly out of the proverbial loop, having to rely on second hand information from Ian. I had the job of keeper of the peace during this period. The holiday must continue.

Monday, Guzzisue and myself decided to leave Ian alone for a few hours and went for a walk in the surrounding area. Selecting a road that gave us a view over Digne.



Without realising we had discovered Saint Benoit Park. This can best be described as a discovery park. We had already passed a Japanese styled pagoda and several water features.







Along the way we had seen an information sign giving detail of the region. Although neither of us could translate much, one name that stood out was Andy Goldsworthy. By chance we stumbled across a couple of his five cairns at the centre.




We had an enjoyable time at the park just walking round and looking at the fossil collection in the museum before heading back to find Ian.

After Ian had received the call from Carole Nash that the Guzzi would be ready for collection on Wednesday his mood lightened enormously. Guzzisue had discovered that a famous French traveller/explorer had lived in Digne for a long period of their life and that their adobe was open to the public for guided tours, she just had to go, towing Ian and myself along.

Alexandra David-Néel was a strong willed woman with a desire to travel, especially to India and Tibet. This was more extraordinary as her adventures took place from the late 1800’s to the 1940’s! Her last walking trip was concluded in early winter of her 82nd year.

During her latter years, Alexandra wrote several books on her travels and adventures. Reaching her century she had her passport renewed ready for when the urge to take off again became too strong. However this remarkable woman died just short of her 101st birthday. Her ashes were scattered on the waters of the Ganges.

Inside her house there are many artefacts from her journeys. Guzzisue was not permitted to photograph anything inside the building. If you happen to be in Digne at any time I can recommend that an afternoon be spent with a guided tour here. There are headsets available, handed out by the guide, at various places where necessary.

Please do have a look at the link on Alexandra’s name to find out more about this amazing woman.

Walking around Digne one last time, down this narrow street



upon a wall is this plaque.



Our prolonged stay in Digne was a little longer than Napoleon’s and tomorrow we will be reunited with the Guzzi. For now the future is looking brighter.

1st Monday Music Movie - Todd Miller & The Joe Loss Orchestra

Is it possible to rebel against rebellion? Since the invention of the gramophone, rebellion in music has been available to the masses. In the fifties, with Elvis rockin’ jailhouses and Bill Haley rocking around a clock with his Comets the scene was set. The mantle was taken up by the Animals, who just had to get outta this place, whilst the Rolling Stones had to get off their clouds before having a 19^th nervous breakdown. Into the seventies and punk rebelled, until to look punk became fashionable, thus going against its aim. And so through musical history there has always been rebellion, be it Woodie Guthrie, Bob Dylan, Billy Bragg or the Sex Pistols.

How does this get us to Nottingham’s Market Square on the final Sunday of May last year? The answer starts over eighty years ago when Joe Loss started his orchestra. He became well respected in his field, with Dame Vera Lynn giving her first broadcast with the band in 1938. In 1990, Joe became too ill to travel with his band and entrusted Todd Miller with the leadership. Todd had joined the orchestra in 1972 as a vocalist and enjoyed an excellent working relationship with Joe. With over twenty years at the helm of the orchestra, Todd is as much of a showman as a leader of the Joe Loss Orchestra.

Back to the question I posed earlier, is it possible to rebel against rebellion? Any form of entertainment has walls. These walls take the form of generations. Parents cannot understand how their little angels can listen to ‘that infernal racket’, as they find their own identity and rebel against the older generations. Todd and the Joe Loss Orchestra had the Market Square singing and dancing, young and old side by side, playing music from Glenn Miller through to soul, the Beatles, Abba and disco, thus breaking down the walls. I could be inclined to say that they made the younger generation rebel against their rebellion, even if it was only for two hours.

The Orchestra’s encore took then past the nine o’clock deadline. Rebels indeed!

Abba Reunited!

Abba reunited! Yes that is correct and remember you read about it here first!

People of a certain age can remember back in 1974 when Anni-Frid Lyngstad, Benny Andersson, Bjorn Ulvaeus and Agnetha Faltskog won the Eurovision Song Contest with Waterloo. Mega stardom was soon at their fingertips.

Often while sleeping I Have A Dream that they would reunite and Knowing Me, Knowing You, I
just have to spill the beans! I Do, I Do, I Do, I Do, I Do.

I would not like to speculate as to whether Money, Money, Money is a key factor in this reunion or not but that's The Name Of The Game and the Winner Takes It All.

All this has came to my attention when out for a ride with Ian on the Yorkshire/Lancashire boarder, going to take a photograph for a potential Round Britain Rally landmark, One Of Us, well this Super Trouper happened to spot a tell tale sign.

When All Is Said And Done, all that is left to say is Thank You For The Music and I had better finish this post before I come Under Attack.

1st Monday Music Movie - Nottingham Ukulele Club

An easy choice for this month’s music movie. Ukuleles have had an upsurge in popularity in recent times; this may be helped by the ever increasing number of people discovering the Ukulele Orchestra of Great Britain.

On the 17^th February, Nottingham had its annual Light Night. I will not go into too much detail as Guzzisue has posted about this and I have done so in the past a couple of times. Last year the Labour council seemed to put much of our Council Tax up in smoke, with firework displays over the castle and more street entertainers. This year seemed to be a much more subdued event, however that could have been down to the cold evening and my friends being a little tired from their respective employment.

In the Exchange Arcade, to the rear of the Council House, sheltered a little from the cold were Nottingham’s own ukulele musicians. This month’s movie is the Nottingham Ukulele Club playing Simon and Garfunkel’s ‘Sound of Silence’ and Prince’s ‘Kiss’.

2007 It Had to Happen Sometime-Reaching New Heights

Saturday. The centre of Digne is a hive of activity. Saturday is market day.

There are traders from the surrounding districts selling their wares. Everything was available from fruit and veg to wooden kitchen utensils, to clothes. There was an area allocated for the locals selling their bric-a-brac. Guzzisue was stopping at many of the stalls to have a look with Ian and myself getting restless. The weather was good and the mountains were calling.

Today’s challenge is to climb the Col de la Bonette, sometimes mistakenly called the Col de Restefond. The Col de Restefond is a gravel track, located off the D64, close to the summit of the Col de la Bonette.

There are claims of the Col de la Bonette being the highest mountain road in Europe. These claims can be argued with good cause. Although the actual Col de la Bonette rises to 2715 metres, there are three other passes that go higher. These are Col de l’Lseran (2770 metres), Stelvio Pass (2757 metres) and the Col Agnel (2744 metres). There is also a no through road in Spain, reaching 3392 metres to the village of Veleta, Sierra Nevada. Col de la Bonette’s road reaches an altitude of 2802 metres, but cannot be described as a “pass” because it is merely a loop road around the Cime de le Bonette. There is no argument that it is indeed the highest asphalted road in Europe.

I am not too sure of the route we took to arrive at the northern side of the Col de la Bonette, but it was an interesting journey nonetheless. One of the buildings we passed was this.

It looks like it may have either been a prison or military building in an earlier time. I believe it could now be a tourist information centre. If anyone recognises it I would be interested for future reference.

Having passed through a village,

we caught up with a local taking his trials bike for a spin.

Leaving behind a holiday resort that is in the process of being expanded we began to climb into the mountains.

Eventually we saw the ski lift, some distance from the resort.

And still we climb.

Eventually we reach the summit and have to refuse the welcome sight of a café due to the time. Guzzisue continues taking pictures on the decent.

The first pass of the day completed, refreshment is taken in Jausiers, prior to turning onto the D64 and the Col de la Bonette. O n the climb we pass an old military building, Casernes de Restefond.

Close to the summit there are some bunkers by the roadside, dating to the Second World War.

Deciding not to take the circular road to the highest point, Ian pointed the Guzzi to start the descent. Negotiating the mountain’s rush hour,

8kms from the Col de la Bonette, well camouflaged from a distance we came upon this little ‘settlement’.

The settlement is Camp Fork, built between 1896 and 1910 with additions up to the Second World War. There are a total of 26 buildings, built to look like cottages but included stables, kitchen and a bread oven. There was a cable car built in the 1930s, giving contact with the village of Pra, thus a supply route was built. Unfortunately the building was destroyed to widen the road at the forts entrance in 2006.

When at full strength the fort was manned by 150 guards, less in the winter months. Although there was fighting in the area around the fort in 1939 and 1944 there are no records of the fort being damaged in conflict.

Inside the command post there are some murals painted, along with some in the other buildings. These are slowly crumbling away, like the buildings themselves.

Having spent some times wandering round the camp it was time to head on down the pass and back towards Digne.

It was on the return journey that the mountain pass was not the only thing to be heading in a downwards direction.

1st Monday Music Movie - Imelda May

Born in Dublin, the youngest of 5 children, Imelda was influenced by her elders music tastes. At 14 she made her professional debut on a Findus Fish Finger commercial singing 'Betcha never put your finger on a crunchier crumb!'

She began singing in clubs at the age of 16 and was occasionally barred from her own shows at Dublin's Bruxelles clud for being underage!

Forming her own band in2006 her popularity began to grow and in 2009 she became the first femail Irish artist to top her home country's chart for 20 years.

Here we see Imelda performing 'Train kept a rollin'' and 'Go tell the devil' at Nottingham's City Pulse in 2010

2007 It Had to Happen Sometime-Bucket & Spade Required

Over the years we have been spoilt. As long as I recall, every breakfast in France has been a feast. The breakfast room has been filled with breads, various meats and cheeses, an assortment of fruit juices along with hot beverages, amongst other delights. It was easy to see the disappointment in Ian’s face when he saw a traditional French breakfast. Jam, croissant and some dry bread. Not being a caffeine drinker, Ian managed to obtain a bottle of cold water to wash everything down with. A large mental note was made by the three of us to grab a large bite to eat later. We were not the only travellers to be disappointed as we saw a couple taking food up to their room!

As Ian had never seen the Mediterranean we all agreed that would be a good ride for today, so departing Digne we soon picked up the N85, Route Napoléon and enjoyed a steady ride south, unlike the Emperor himself who headed north and ultimately to his defeat at Waterloo.

Stopping briefly for our first view of the Mediterranean

We started down the mountain road, reaching Grasse, where the French perfume industry is centred. Grasse is a mere 9 miles northwest of Cannes, our destination, however due to traffic lights stopping us at regular intervals, the final stretch took a long time. The temperature was hovering around 28°C, Ian was getting somewhat overheated in his riding gear, I was wishing I could remove my jacket and cut my fur as my perch on the left hand front indicator was getting rather warm.

Eventually the coast was reached, the Guzzi parked up to admire the Med’s horizon.

It was rather a windswept day but it did not deter guests from various hotels making the most of the midday sun.

In fact the wind must have been around force 9 or 10 due to the amount of boats seeking refuge in the local harbour.

The natives are used to these local weather conditions, undeterred they continued on their promenading along the palm tree lined Promenade de la Croisette.

Mingling with the locals we also sauntered along the Promenade and found this movie camera statue situated near the Palais des Festivals et des Congrès, which surprisingly none of us took a photo of!

We had very little time in Cannes, but did manage to break an (almost) unwritten law and went into a nearby McD****d’s. Well nature was calling. I could escape into some shrubbery but not Ian or Guzzisue. A walk round some of the local shops, down some narrow streets, shoppers tottering on high heels whilst balancing designer labelled carrier bags in their hands and too big sunglasses on too small noses.

Ice creams were required and had to be consumed rapidly before they melted. This was successfully accomplished sitting on a bench, looking out to sea.

Two hours in Cannes was certainly not long enough to give an honest opinion of the town. We did not have any idea that we would end up there on this holiday as our original break had been scuppered by some unseasonable weather, therefore we had no idea what to look for. Also due to limited time there may not have been long enough to look round any place of interest. A return visit is necessary in the future.

Riding back the same way gave us the opportunity to notice previously missed stopping off places, for example, there was a small local Citroen Museum and a Resistance Museum, both of which could have been visited if we had the time.

The course had been set and we had 83 miles to cover along interesting roads to return us to Digne for the evening.

1st Monday Music Movie-Seven Little Sisters

Named after William Willis' raft, on which he sailed from South America to American Samoa in 1954, the Seven Little Sisiters (SLS) also have their own story.

Ian and Guzzisue first met the band back in 1993 or 1994 on their tour of Scotland. Ian had noticed a poster in the tourist information centre in Portree, Isle of Skye, advertising a concert taking place down at the Sligachan Hotel that night. Upon entering the hotel, as the band were setting up their equipment, they were asked the question "How many are in the group now?" The band members were taken aback as they had not realised that their fame had stretched this far north. And so began a friendship that would last for some time.

In 1995 SLS released their album Cow Trousers, with a small gig in Nottingham's Virgin Megastore. Below is the poster advertising this gig.

Slowly the band were getting a reputation for being a great live act with their celtic, folk rock, bluegrass style. They had even supported the Oyster Band on several occasions. Things were really on a roll until the fateful day when their van, including all their instruments and equipment was stolen.

From that fateful moment the band just fell apart and the boys all drifted apart. Ian and Guzzisue bumped into Jon Harris in early 2010 and there was no mention of the band reforming, so how did this come about?

The tale starts one day when a friend of Jon's mentions a website, the A-Z of Bushcraft. This site has many short videos on Youtube, with SLS's song When The Wind Blows as theme music! There are many comments about the theme music, who is the group? are they playing anywhere? etc, etc, etc. One of the older comments was from a band member saying that they had split up some years ago and that a comeback was unlikely.....

Ian receives an email every week giving information about events, gigs and films for the following week in Nottingham. One that caught his eye was for a gig by SLS at the Salutation on September 25th! Well it would have been rude not to go.

Ian had already mentioned the gig to his friends and Guzzisue had informed her knitting companion. As we approached the pub several Sisters were outside having a cigarette and talk when they saw us. They were surprised and pleased to see faces from 12 years previous.

Understandably the band were nervous about their return, but the packed upstairs audience was with them all the way.

The reformed band have now played three times and have been well received at each venue. Gigs and festival bookings are now building for this year and a follow up album is being recorded.

Although the film clip is of poor picture quality, the sound makes up for this. Recorded at the Robin Hood Hotel, Sherwood, Nottingham. I give you the Seven Little Sisters!