Task number one after breakie today was to try and get through to Grandma to wish her a happy birthday. With the help of a local phonecard and the phone in the hotel room, I was trying valiantly, however to no avail. Apparently she was out partying with some friends.
I went to the "Terror House" which is the common name for 60 Andrassy - the location of the secret police and scene of many atrocities under the German and Russian occupation of Budapest. The place has apparently been criticised for not having enough exhibits on the holocaust, however I saw some pretty graphic footage of bodies being bulldozed during this time, that was more than enough. Despite a slightly depressing environment, I spent a couple of hours there, reading all that I could. It really hit home for a number of reasons.
Back to the hotel and I was fortunate enough to get through to my Grandmother after a number of attempts to wish her a happy birthday.
Then I set off for the amazing thermal spas that are always talked about. I did the Aussie thing and walked there, taking much longer than I should have. When I negotiated my way past the security guards and worked out how to get into the place (it was almost as much of a maze as Venice) I looked at the indoor "thermal" spas and thought no thanks. They looked little more than spas that are anywere else, and the water did not look inviting. So I went to the outdoor pool, which; while palatial in appearance, was just that - a pool. Well one big pool with a couple of little ones off to the side.
It was great to have a swim though with the upcoming long haul flight, and I interspersed this with a few sessions in the saunas. The last was 100 degrees celcuis and was just like having a heater blown onto you, which I guess is what was happening.
Next I decided to walk to the train station at the other end of town to get to the Sziget music festival. I eventually made it there and again used my skills from Venice to negotiate my way to the main stage. I saw an Aussie / fosters flag and made my way over there. To my surprise, there was a big group of Aussies who were very welcoming. It was nice to have this, especially right at the end of the trip.
Afterwards I made my way back to the hotel to have a shower and pack my bags. Then to the airport and a lovely day of planes and airports to finish this trip off. Budapest - London - Hong Kong - Sydney, and that was all she wrote until next time! Thanks for reading the story of my european vacation.
Monday, August 17, 2009
Bratislava
I could not believe I was about to subject myself to another five hours of train travel after sixteen hours a day earlier, however this was my chance to see Bratislava.
The station seemed typical of what you would expect in Eastern Europe - organised chaos. I quickly grabbed a map and set off to look at the old town and historic sites. Along the way I managed to walk past the palace of Slovakia's leader when the changing of the guard was taking place.
I managed to find one of the places that Lonely Planet recommended for traditional local fare. Further analysis of the map help me formulate a plan of attack for this whistlestop tour. The man at work was quite amusing, the opera house a stunning piece of architecture as described, however the castle was interesting.
I had left the best until last in the hope of being able to spend some time in the jewel of Bratislava's crown. The only issue was that the castle was undergoing a ful renovation so you could not get in and look around. The museum was open, however I had read that it was ordinary with the exception of being able to climb one of the castle's towers from there. Once I was informed that this was not available I decided to give this a miss as well. Also interesting was the fact that this castle was never really used from a Slovakian perspective. I read that the Hungarian royal family were there when the Turks occupied Budapest, also that the original castle burned down and the current version was built in the 1950s. I guess every city needs an icon or landmark and in Australia we are blessed with many that are natural and man made.
With a bit of extra time up my hands I had a look in a couple of shops. I realised I had no idea how to say hello and goodbye, so used the tried and true "ciao". I also managed to pick up the six dollar t-shirt that B-Money and I had been searching for the entire trip.
Rush hour back at the station and a woman who had pushed her way past me went down like a bag of s&^% about ten seconds later. I swear I had nothing to do with it, however did join the other locals having a good chuckle at her expense - due to the karma.
A crowd of people had gathered around the departures board and were waiting for a platform to be announced. I realised this was for my train so I joined them. Normally this would be one of those annoying things that you put down to being in a less developed place, however I recalled the exact same thing happens at Heathrow.
The train was so packed that I had to use one of the emergency makeshif seats that you unfold from the wall. After a few stops I managed to move into one of the compartments and really was feeling the Euro train travel experience.
Back in Budapest, I managed to get to the place I had tried the evening before. A funny thing happened which was they served my main course about a minute after the entree, so it was backed up and sitting on the table. Afterwards I had a couple of beers at a local bar, and while I was keen for more, I realised was in for a big one on the following evening, so some rest was appropriate.
The station seemed typical of what you would expect in Eastern Europe - organised chaos. I quickly grabbed a map and set off to look at the old town and historic sites. Along the way I managed to walk past the palace of Slovakia's leader when the changing of the guard was taking place.
I managed to find one of the places that Lonely Planet recommended for traditional local fare. Further analysis of the map help me formulate a plan of attack for this whistlestop tour. The man at work was quite amusing, the opera house a stunning piece of architecture as described, however the castle was interesting.
I had left the best until last in the hope of being able to spend some time in the jewel of Bratislava's crown. The only issue was that the castle was undergoing a ful renovation so you could not get in and look around. The museum was open, however I had read that it was ordinary with the exception of being able to climb one of the castle's towers from there. Once I was informed that this was not available I decided to give this a miss as well. Also interesting was the fact that this castle was never really used from a Slovakian perspective. I read that the Hungarian royal family were there when the Turks occupied Budapest, also that the original castle burned down and the current version was built in the 1950s. I guess every city needs an icon or landmark and in Australia we are blessed with many that are natural and man made.
With a bit of extra time up my hands I had a look in a couple of shops. I realised I had no idea how to say hello and goodbye, so used the tried and true "ciao". I also managed to pick up the six dollar t-shirt that B-Money and I had been searching for the entire trip.
Rush hour back at the station and a woman who had pushed her way past me went down like a bag of s&^% about ten seconds later. I swear I had nothing to do with it, however did join the other locals having a good chuckle at her expense - due to the karma.
A crowd of people had gathered around the departures board and were waiting for a platform to be announced. I realised this was for my train so I joined them. Normally this would be one of those annoying things that you put down to being in a less developed place, however I recalled the exact same thing happens at Heathrow.
The train was so packed that I had to use one of the emergency makeshif seats that you unfold from the wall. After a few stops I managed to move into one of the compartments and really was feeling the Euro train travel experience.
Back in Budapest, I managed to get to the place I had tried the evening before. A funny thing happened which was they served my main course about a minute after the entree, so it was backed up and sitting on the table. Afterwards I had a couple of beers at a local bar, and while I was keen for more, I realised was in for a big one on the following evening, so some rest was appropriate.
Sunday, August 16, 2009
Budapest
This city certainly appreciates the value of tourism and is aware of its beauty as well as that of some of the locals. Namely, a couple of attractive young ladies boarded the train just out of town and walked through handing out maps and answering questions. One of them even offered to help me carry my bike box when we arrived at Budapest, however I politely declined, citing chivalry.
I did struggle getting the bike box to the hotel, however fortunately I had picked one close to the train station. After a shower and change of clothes (I felt smellier than I have ever felt) I set off for a quick look around town.
Later; for a change, I went on a bike tour. It was a great way to see the main sights of the city quickly, and it did not hurt that the host was, you guessed it, an attractive young lady.
I wandered around afterward and found a restaurant that looked fairly genuine. The older bloke working there was not big on the chat or service, however I guess he was around 50-60 and had lived through some pretty dark times in the city's history.
On the way home I did get lost. Well let us just say I did not exactly know which direction I was headed for a while until I got my bearings. I felt a bit pompous staying in a nice hotel, however a clean shower and nice bed were very welcome. So was sleep after another 36 sleepless hours!
I did struggle getting the bike box to the hotel, however fortunately I had picked one close to the train station. After a shower and change of clothes (I felt smellier than I have ever felt) I set off for a quick look around town.
Later; for a change, I went on a bike tour. It was a great way to see the main sights of the city quickly, and it did not hurt that the host was, you guessed it, an attractive young lady.
I wandered around afterward and found a restaurant that looked fairly genuine. The older bloke working there was not big on the chat or service, however I guess he was around 50-60 and had lived through some pretty dark times in the city's history.
On the way home I did get lost. Well let us just say I did not exactly know which direction I was headed for a while until I got my bearings. I felt a bit pompous staying in a nice hotel, however a clean shower and nice bed were very welcome. So was sleep after another 36 sleepless hours!
Venezia and l'ultima Apertivo
I filled the hire car with petrol and returned to the Mestre office of Avis, only to find it was closed for two weeks. I left the keys with the woman at the car wash, who rang the guy, who, in turn, informed me that he would come in the next day to sort it all out. Suffice to say I will be casting a keen eye over my credit card statement.
After an interesting breakfast (boiled egg, a croissant in a packet, a coffee that I did not ask for and a few other things) I set off to get a couple of errands complete. First was the ticket to Budapest, then sending a birthday present to my niece in the USA.
Next, the main activity for the day which was to go to Venice.
After I arrived, I immediately recognised how difficult it would have been to go there with my luggage instead of Mestre, with all the narrow alleyways and bridges.
I had a quick look over the first main bridge, and then decided I should acquaint myself with the lesser travelled back alleyways. I found a good place for lunch and then decided I would challenge myself to getting around to San Marco using only back alleyways. The first two turns I made took me directly to the tourist strip, however I had been past there before, so I got my bearings. Then I weaved a path through the alleyways, which was a lot like doing one of those puzzles. In fact, that is pretty much what it was.
I cheked out a few of the main sights and then for another challenge, returned to the station without using a map.
Back in Mestre, I thought I would go for a final apertivo or two, then return to the hotel and hopefully have a shower, change, and grab my luggage and set off to the station.
I found the only cool bar in Mestre and the two turned into eight and I had time only to grab my luggage and head for the station.
When the train arrived, one of the station masters was adamant that I could not take my bike box on board. Fortunately there were plenty of others lined up for questions, so when he turned his back I threw it all on there. He continued on and I think my response was something to the effect of "I have heard what you said, I respect it, and have taken your comments on board. However this stuff is coming with me."
Now for the fourteen hour train trip to Budapest. Three passport checks in Slovenia, you certainly know about it when you change from Western to Eastern Europe. I guess it made up for the border control near Chamonix!
After an interesting breakfast (boiled egg, a croissant in a packet, a coffee that I did not ask for and a few other things) I set off to get a couple of errands complete. First was the ticket to Budapest, then sending a birthday present to my niece in the USA.
Next, the main activity for the day which was to go to Venice.
After I arrived, I immediately recognised how difficult it would have been to go there with my luggage instead of Mestre, with all the narrow alleyways and bridges.
I had a quick look over the first main bridge, and then decided I should acquaint myself with the lesser travelled back alleyways. I found a good place for lunch and then decided I would challenge myself to getting around to San Marco using only back alleyways. The first two turns I made took me directly to the tourist strip, however I had been past there before, so I got my bearings. Then I weaved a path through the alleyways, which was a lot like doing one of those puzzles. In fact, that is pretty much what it was.
I cheked out a few of the main sights and then for another challenge, returned to the station without using a map.
Back in Mestre, I thought I would go for a final apertivo or two, then return to the hotel and hopefully have a shower, change, and grab my luggage and set off to the station.
I found the only cool bar in Mestre and the two turned into eight and I had time only to grab my luggage and head for the station.
When the train arrived, one of the station masters was adamant that I could not take my bike box on board. Fortunately there were plenty of others lined up for questions, so when he turned his back I threw it all on there. He continued on and I think my response was something to the effect of "I have heard what you said, I respect it, and have taken your comments on board. However this stuff is coming with me."
Now for the fourteen hour train trip to Budapest. Three passport checks in Slovenia, you certainly know about it when you change from Western to Eastern Europe. I guess it made up for the border control near Chamonix!
Bormio - Passo del Stelvio - Mestre
I woke in time for breakfast today and was all set and organised to check out, cimb the Stelvio and then head off to Mestre. What is it they say about the best laid plans of mice and men?
To cut a long story short, both Visa and MasterCard's payment systems were down at the same time for the first time in history (to go with me being the first Australian customer of the hotel poste in history). A quick trip to the bank, who, surprise, surprise had the same problem, a lot of trust and a promise to return after my ride to pay.
Now on to the Stelvio (literally). Forty off hairpins, sign posts every kilometer and a good quality road surface. There was a couple of tunnels that looked very old as they had absolutely no lighting and the parts I could see did not look new. I rode very slowly through those parts, although I was going uphill so that is my excuse.
I was passed by three people. One young lad who looked like he would be a pro one day. He sat on my wheel for a while before I pulled over and virtually slowed to a stop (not hard when you are going up hill). Another in Team Highroad Columbia kit, with team arm and leg warmers to boot. Not the Columbia HTC kit though, so not sure whether he was a pro or not. Then some other guy who flew past with high cadence.
There was a section in the middle with a number of hairpins all at close range. So it made it easier to climb up a short wall. Then it opened out for a while which made it harder, before going back to a number of turns towards the end.
At the top, there were heaps of people. Motorcyclists, cars and a number of cyclists. Many souveneir stands, a BBQish looking area with people in leiderhosen, and snow not far away (ie: you would walk to it). I was wearing a jersey and knicks only, so put my jacket on promptly. I also used the earlier credit card debacle as an excuse to pick myself up another jacket from the top. With a working credit card and two jackets for warmth, I descended confidently, yet carefully.
I sorted the bill and then weaved my way back to Trento the way I had came a few days earlier. The shortest route was over the Bormio, next the Stelvio. So I was taking the longest route, however had had enough of hill climbing, be it in a car, bike or other.
I eventually made it to Mestre, where the old boy from the hotel was only too happy to help me pack my bike. I found a great authentic venetian seafood restaurant nearby and had a great meal. Then a great sleep after a pretty big day.
To cut a long story short, both Visa and MasterCard's payment systems were down at the same time for the first time in history (to go with me being the first Australian customer of the hotel poste in history). A quick trip to the bank, who, surprise, surprise had the same problem, a lot of trust and a promise to return after my ride to pay.
Now on to the Stelvio (literally). Forty off hairpins, sign posts every kilometer and a good quality road surface. There was a couple of tunnels that looked very old as they had absolutely no lighting and the parts I could see did not look new. I rode very slowly through those parts, although I was going uphill so that is my excuse.
I was passed by three people. One young lad who looked like he would be a pro one day. He sat on my wheel for a while before I pulled over and virtually slowed to a stop (not hard when you are going up hill). Another in Team Highroad Columbia kit, with team arm and leg warmers to boot. Not the Columbia HTC kit though, so not sure whether he was a pro or not. Then some other guy who flew past with high cadence.
There was a section in the middle with a number of hairpins all at close range. So it made it easier to climb up a short wall. Then it opened out for a while which made it harder, before going back to a number of turns towards the end.
At the top, there were heaps of people. Motorcyclists, cars and a number of cyclists. Many souveneir stands, a BBQish looking area with people in leiderhosen, and snow not far away (ie: you would walk to it). I was wearing a jersey and knicks only, so put my jacket on promptly. I also used the earlier credit card debacle as an excuse to pick myself up another jacket from the top. With a working credit card and two jackets for warmth, I descended confidently, yet carefully.
I sorted the bill and then weaved my way back to Trento the way I had came a few days earlier. The shortest route was over the Bormio, next the Stelvio. So I was taking the longest route, however had had enough of hill climbing, be it in a car, bike or other.
I eventually made it to Mestre, where the old boy from the hotel was only too happy to help me pack my bike. I found a great authentic venetian seafood restaurant nearby and had a great meal. Then a great sleep after a pretty big day.
Monday, August 10, 2009
Bormio - passo del Gavia
I woke shortly before 10am!
A walk around town, followed by general procrastination. I could not believe that I needed motivation to get on my bike and attempt to climb one of the world's great passes.
After a final, short rain delay, I set off at about 330pm. My legs felt so heavy and it seemed like I was crawling, which I most surely was.
One thing I had not checked was how far it was to the start of the climb. I knew the Stelvio started in town, however was not sure if it was 10km or 40km to the start of the Gavia.
Fortunately it was the former, however it was a real grind getting there. The climb itself was ok at the start hairpins, smooth surface, etc), however it became progressively harder as I went along. The hairpins stopped about halfway, the quality of the road surface deteriorated at about the same time, and the steepness increased. Not that I was complaining as this was definitely better than work! One positive was that the short burst of rain made the air very fresh.
This was a real grind. 17km or so and 2,650 elevation at the top, although I do not know what the elevation of Bormio is to calculate the change.
I arrived at the top and was amused by the pet goat running around. Funnier to look at than the albino ferret on Alpe d'Huez, however not as friendly. I had a cup of hot chocolate with a massive amount of whipped cream on top. Professionally done, as these people would not want to start an avalanche! Also a piece of cake that seemed to have chocolate in it.
A careful descent and I realised just how steep some sections were. Even the bit at the start leading up to the start of the climb had a decent gradient. A good day's work all in all.
A walk around town, followed by general procrastination. I could not believe that I needed motivation to get on my bike and attempt to climb one of the world's great passes.
After a final, short rain delay, I set off at about 330pm. My legs felt so heavy and it seemed like I was crawling, which I most surely was.
One thing I had not checked was how far it was to the start of the climb. I knew the Stelvio started in town, however was not sure if it was 10km or 40km to the start of the Gavia.
Fortunately it was the former, however it was a real grind getting there. The climb itself was ok at the start hairpins, smooth surface, etc), however it became progressively harder as I went along. The hairpins stopped about halfway, the quality of the road surface deteriorated at about the same time, and the steepness increased. Not that I was complaining as this was definitely better than work! One positive was that the short burst of rain made the air very fresh.
This was a real grind. 17km or so and 2,650 elevation at the top, although I do not know what the elevation of Bormio is to calculate the change.
I arrived at the top and was amused by the pet goat running around. Funnier to look at than the albino ferret on Alpe d'Huez, however not as friendly. I had a cup of hot chocolate with a massive amount of whipped cream on top. Professionally done, as these people would not want to start an avalanche! Also a piece of cake that seemed to have chocolate in it.
A careful descent and I realised just how steep some sections were. Even the bit at the start leading up to the start of the climb had a decent gradient. A good day's work all in all.
The Gran Fondo Charly Gaul
An early start, and thanks to a phone call from Australia at 4am it was even earlier. Suffice to say I rose, switched my phone to silent, then back to bed.
After packing all my things, I went downstairs expecting breakfast at 7am, mainly because the concierge had mentioned they would have it specially then for us racers. When I learned it was not on, the 24 bottles of fruit juice suddenly became very useful. Well let us day 18 after a decent effort.
I put my bike together and did a quick check of all the things I had. Riding out of the carpark my brakes were squealing loudly and I knew that this would not do in a Gran Fondo. So I went back to the car and did my best to clean the rims and brake pads with a rag. I was a bit flustered, which is not a great way to start, however it does get the adrenaline pumping and a light sweat - which is what you want.
When I arrived at the duomo, I realised I should have been checking what I had rather than being worried about my rims. I had two spare tubes, however no pump! Now I was really flustered, however calmed myself by looking at the two possible scenaios - ie: I get a flat, or I do not. Worry about the former if and when it happens, if the latter, then no need to worry.
Now for those who do not know, a Gran Fondo is kind of like the City2Surf on bikes. I do mean the City2Surf as well, as there may not be 60,000 people, however there are often 8,000 people. Add the bikes and it can be a recipie for disaster, or more specifically - crashes.
This was no regular race. Not like the Tour de France or any of the races I have been involved with, where there is a neutral roll out and then you hit it a few kms out of town. These boys (and girls) go from the gun. 40-45km/h straight away. Oops, there is a cafe table area in the middle or the road, a right hand turn, traffic islands, etc. We would go from 40+to 0 due to these things and the effect on braking in traffic I mentioned yesterday.
I really had to back it off as we were 10km in and I thought there is a long way to go to be maintaining this speed. Also two mammoth hills, or should I say mountains, however more of that later.
I had my Sydney jersey on and I heard a voice say "are you Australian". Scott became my ride buddy and thank Christ he had a pump! I was updated on cricket scores, and not just once - text messages from Scott's old man through the ride. Super stuff!
Now the hills, I mean mountains. Well there was one, that we climbed from two different ways. The first was about 15km and 1,300 metres elevation gain. The second was about 20km and 1,300m elevation gain. We thought the second was 10km, and as it was at the finish, the extra 10km uphill was quite deflating. There were a few rest stops along the way and Scott and I stopped at each one.
Once over the line (only a couple of hours behind the winner) we went to the customary pasta party and then bumped into Gilberto Simoni. Gilberto was happy to pose for photos with us and seemed happy to know we were Australians and had come to what is now really his event. The only problem was the old bloke taking the photo did not know how to press the button, so the moment will have to live in our memories.
Overall, a great experience, however at the time it was extremely difficult.
Afterwards, a short four hour drive from Trento to Bormio.
After packing all my things, I went downstairs expecting breakfast at 7am, mainly because the concierge had mentioned they would have it specially then for us racers. When I learned it was not on, the 24 bottles of fruit juice suddenly became very useful. Well let us day 18 after a decent effort.
I put my bike together and did a quick check of all the things I had. Riding out of the carpark my brakes were squealing loudly and I knew that this would not do in a Gran Fondo. So I went back to the car and did my best to clean the rims and brake pads with a rag. I was a bit flustered, which is not a great way to start, however it does get the adrenaline pumping and a light sweat - which is what you want.
When I arrived at the duomo, I realised I should have been checking what I had rather than being worried about my rims. I had two spare tubes, however no pump! Now I was really flustered, however calmed myself by looking at the two possible scenaios - ie: I get a flat, or I do not. Worry about the former if and when it happens, if the latter, then no need to worry.
Now for those who do not know, a Gran Fondo is kind of like the City2Surf on bikes. I do mean the City2Surf as well, as there may not be 60,000 people, however there are often 8,000 people. Add the bikes and it can be a recipie for disaster, or more specifically - crashes.
This was no regular race. Not like the Tour de France or any of the races I have been involved with, where there is a neutral roll out and then you hit it a few kms out of town. These boys (and girls) go from the gun. 40-45km/h straight away. Oops, there is a cafe table area in the middle or the road, a right hand turn, traffic islands, etc. We would go from 40+to 0 due to these things and the effect on braking in traffic I mentioned yesterday.
I really had to back it off as we were 10km in and I thought there is a long way to go to be maintaining this speed. Also two mammoth hills, or should I say mountains, however more of that later.
I had my Sydney jersey on and I heard a voice say "are you Australian". Scott became my ride buddy and thank Christ he had a pump! I was updated on cricket scores, and not just once - text messages from Scott's old man through the ride. Super stuff!
Now the hills, I mean mountains. Well there was one, that we climbed from two different ways. The first was about 15km and 1,300 metres elevation gain. The second was about 20km and 1,300m elevation gain. We thought the second was 10km, and as it was at the finish, the extra 10km uphill was quite deflating. There were a few rest stops along the way and Scott and I stopped at each one.
Once over the line (only a couple of hours behind the winner) we went to the customary pasta party and then bumped into Gilberto Simoni. Gilberto was happy to pose for photos with us and seemed happy to know we were Australians and had come to what is now really his event. The only problem was the old bloke taking the photo did not know how to press the button, so the moment will have to live in our memories.
Overall, a great experience, however at the time it was extremely difficult.
Afterwards, a short four hour drive from Trento to Bormio.
The road to the Gran Fondo
All good things must come to an end and my time in Rimini was no exception. I thought back to when I arrived with B-Money just over a week earlier, thinking I would spend a few days there with him. Well the activities and hospitality (from Dott) was so great, that I could not help but stay. Even with the hire car booked she was still informing me of things that we could do. Even Doc called with the opportunity of another long ride.
Offers aside, I decided my future was at the Gran Fondo in Trento and then a couple of days in Bormio. So a final "coffee" (I have given up due to the effects felt earlier in the week), pack the car, set the Garmin and away.
I ignored the first directions as they were a left at a roundabout when the autstrada was clearly signposted to the right. Twenty minutes later and I was still searching for it and questioning this decision.
Once on the autostrada it was plain sailing (or driving). The traffic became a bit congested abou 80km out of Trento. It slowed, often to a standstill, then slowly moved on back to fluency. No crashes, etc, so all I could assume is that it was the cumulative effect of braking on traffic (ie: cars at the front brake slightly, cars behind brake increasingly heavily, until we achieve standstill). Not to worry, as long as I arrived before the collection of race packs finished.
I checked into the hotel and then got a Custanza park next to the race pack collection area. No dramas with my different license, a t-shirt, two dozen bottles of fruit juice and I was on my way.
Then I did a few laps of town trying to find the parking centre allocated to my hotel. Once that was sorted, a quick walking tour of the town helped me locate the duomo where the Gran Fondo was going to start. Lucky, as I had assumed it was where the race packs were collected.
Back to the hotel and a quick nap before a early meal. It was at that in between (normal westerner) time of around 8-9pm. I say in between as it was in between apertivi and dinner for the Italians, so most places were not cranking it up for dinner. Fortunately I found a place that must cater for the tourist market.
Early to bed and a few butterflies.
Offers aside, I decided my future was at the Gran Fondo in Trento and then a couple of days in Bormio. So a final "coffee" (I have given up due to the effects felt earlier in the week), pack the car, set the Garmin and away.
I ignored the first directions as they were a left at a roundabout when the autstrada was clearly signposted to the right. Twenty minutes later and I was still searching for it and questioning this decision.
Once on the autostrada it was plain sailing (or driving). The traffic became a bit congested abou 80km out of Trento. It slowed, often to a standstill, then slowly moved on back to fluency. No crashes, etc, so all I could assume is that it was the cumulative effect of braking on traffic (ie: cars at the front brake slightly, cars behind brake increasingly heavily, until we achieve standstill). Not to worry, as long as I arrived before the collection of race packs finished.
I checked into the hotel and then got a Custanza park next to the race pack collection area. No dramas with my different license, a t-shirt, two dozen bottles of fruit juice and I was on my way.
Then I did a few laps of town trying to find the parking centre allocated to my hotel. Once that was sorted, a quick walking tour of the town helped me locate the duomo where the Gran Fondo was going to start. Lucky, as I had assumed it was where the race packs were collected.
Back to the hotel and a quick nap before a early meal. It was at that in between (normal westerner) time of around 8-9pm. I say in between as it was in between apertivi and dinner for the Italians, so most places were not cranking it up for dinner. Fortunately I found a place that must cater for the tourist market.
Early to bed and a few butterflies.
Friday, August 7, 2009
Two and a half Aussies - part 4
The best laid plans of mice and men...
I was going to leave ultra early to ride out to Carpenga and Cippo, however managed to get away at about 945am - just in time for the heat of the day.
I spun my way out there really easily and took over two and a half hours to ride about 50km, however it was mostly uphill at various gradients.
I knew Cippo would be tough, however I had to go into my 27 very early. I had moved past the decision of whether I should stop and resolved to do so in a corner or two. Then I started seeing pictures of Pantani, Merckx, large newspaper billboards, etc. I was not dreaming, it was all there. Apparently there was an event on at Cippo recently, so all of the stuff was still on the mountain. There are a number of permanent billboards as well. All of this spurred me on even though I felt like I was about to die.
There was a short stop where I had to go around a gate, which meant that the rest of the climb would have no cars (apart from a ranger or workmen possibly). I passed one sorry looking fellow who I would later learn is from Holland where there are no hills (hard to train for hill climbing).
Once that was sorted I descended down the other side and proceeded to search for a place that had food and drink. Normally not a difficult task, however at 2pm in Italy the country is in shut down.
I happened upon a place that was open and proceeded to buy two bottles of water, two gatorades and a sandwich. I drank three of the four, poured the fourth into my drink bottle, ate the sandwich and was on my way back.
I was expecting a much faster trip home, considering I was going from 1,400ish meters to 0 meters. It was quicker, apart from a small section of 1km that was as steep as Cippo! I descended it on the way out and the worst part is there was a sign pointing to Rimini before it that would have been much flatter, however I chose to follow the Garmin. Well apart from that blemish, the Garmin got me there and back, so it is doing its job.
I was going to leave ultra early to ride out to Carpenga and Cippo, however managed to get away at about 945am - just in time for the heat of the day.
I spun my way out there really easily and took over two and a half hours to ride about 50km, however it was mostly uphill at various gradients.
I knew Cippo would be tough, however I had to go into my 27 very early. I had moved past the decision of whether I should stop and resolved to do so in a corner or two. Then I started seeing pictures of Pantani, Merckx, large newspaper billboards, etc. I was not dreaming, it was all there. Apparently there was an event on at Cippo recently, so all of the stuff was still on the mountain. There are a number of permanent billboards as well. All of this spurred me on even though I felt like I was about to die.
There was a short stop where I had to go around a gate, which meant that the rest of the climb would have no cars (apart from a ranger or workmen possibly). I passed one sorry looking fellow who I would later learn is from Holland where there are no hills (hard to train for hill climbing).
Once that was sorted I descended down the other side and proceeded to search for a place that had food and drink. Normally not a difficult task, however at 2pm in Italy the country is in shut down.
I happened upon a place that was open and proceeded to buy two bottles of water, two gatorades and a sandwich. I drank three of the four, poured the fourth into my drink bottle, ate the sandwich and was on my way back.
I was expecting a much faster trip home, considering I was going from 1,400ish meters to 0 meters. It was quicker, apart from a small section of 1km that was as steep as Cippo! I descended it on the way out and the worst part is there was a sign pointing to Rimini before it that would have been much flatter, however I chose to follow the Garmin. Well apart from that blemish, the Garmin got me there and back, so it is doing its job.
Two and a half Aussies - part 3
I seriously can not remember much apart from going to spin in the evening and then the 900 club for some sole. The spin instructor pulled out the measuring tape and spun us within an inch of our lives! I sweated profusely as there was no fan. The Adriatic was forming once again, however Moses was not on hand to part the sea!
Two and a half Aussies - part 2
A very Italian day today.
After the morning coffee shop ritual, we went to Mamma Farneti's for lunch and then a ride.
The lunch - Mamma Mia! We arrived to a fully set table, silver service style. Monogramed plates with the labels all lining up at the top. Then wine, bread, pasta, then meat and vegetables. Then fruit.
Then a ride with Paolo out to San Leo and Madonna d'Pugliano. Dott informed me later that Paolo regularly finishes in the top 20 of the Gran Fondos, so he is pretty handy on two wheels. I noticed this first hand when we were going up the hills. We went ahead of the girls and I was thinking that the language thing would work on the hills as we would not have to speak. This part was OK, however no noise from no talking meant that the only noise was my deep breathing! Nothing from Paolo's corner as he cruised up the hills next to me, being very polite and not going ahead.
After the morning coffee shop ritual, we went to Mamma Farneti's for lunch and then a ride.
The lunch - Mamma Mia! We arrived to a fully set table, silver service style. Monogramed plates with the labels all lining up at the top. Then wine, bread, pasta, then meat and vegetables. Then fruit.
Then a ride with Paolo out to San Leo and Madonna d'Pugliano. Dott informed me later that Paolo regularly finishes in the top 20 of the Gran Fondos, so he is pretty handy on two wheels. I noticed this first hand when we were going up the hills. We went ahead of the girls and I was thinking that the language thing would work on the hills as we would not have to speak. This part was OK, however no noise from no talking meant that the only noise was my deep breathing! Nothing from Paolo's corner as he cruised up the hills next to me, being very polite and not going ahead.
Two and a half Aussies - part 1
Today we rode out to Verucchio and Toriana. Dott mentioned to me "this is the place that I broke Steven" about a mutual friend.
When we arrived at Toriana, I was a little ahead and proceeded up the final climb. I was struggling badly, gasping for air, thinking no wonder Steven could not make it up here. รน
After I made it to the top Dott and I exchanged a few texts. The last one read "I have been at the top for a while, where are you?", which suggested to me I was not in the right place. Suffice to say that Dott had not taken Steven up the last bit or even been up there herself. I guess that is the price you pay for being a smartie and riding ahead.
On the way back we bumped into a friend of Dott's named Paolo. He popped over for dinner. Interesting trying to communicate with people that do not speak the same language.
When we arrived at Toriana, I was a little ahead and proceeded up the final climb. I was struggling badly, gasping for air, thinking no wonder Steven could not make it up here. รน
After I made it to the top Dott and I exchanged a few texts. The last one read "I have been at the top for a while, where are you?", which suggested to me I was not in the right place. Suffice to say that Dott had not taken Steven up the last bit or even been up there herself. I guess that is the price you pay for being a smartie and riding ahead.
On the way back we bumped into a friend of Dott's named Paolo. He popped over for dinner. Interesting trying to communicate with people that do not speak the same language.
B-Money and Adriano's excellent adventure - the finale
Sad day today. B-Money was heading home. We had the final coffee at the coffee shop and all of that stuff and then bid him farewell.
Afterwards, Leica and I filled the void by riding to San Marino. We were separated at a point and then it began to rain, right when I was at the top.
I was done with a woman's plastic bag Lance Armstrong style as I tried to ride up part of San Marino that you probably should not. So I dismounted and wandered around with my bike taking in the views.
The rain eased for the ride back and I was greeted by two happy, however worried ladies. Also a masseus (Andrea). So I was having a massage after a ride, feeling like a pro, however something was missing. Then Federica handed me her mobile phone. So I was now being massaged after a ride, talking on my mobile.
It was B-Money.
Later that evening we had dinner with Federica's cousin Federico (same surname). He suggested I have the piadini which is a local dish. Very nice.
Afterwards, Leica and I filled the void by riding to San Marino. We were separated at a point and then it began to rain, right when I was at the top.
I was done with a woman's plastic bag Lance Armstrong style as I tried to ride up part of San Marino that you probably should not. So I dismounted and wandered around with my bike taking in the views.
The rain eased for the ride back and I was greeted by two happy, however worried ladies. Also a masseus (Andrea). So I was having a massage after a ride, feeling like a pro, however something was missing. Then Federica handed me her mobile phone. So I was now being massaged after a ride, talking on my mobile.
It was B-Money.
Later that evening we had dinner with Federica's cousin Federico (same surname). He suggested I have the piadini which is a local dish. Very nice.
B-Money and Adriano's excellent adventure - part 6
No riding today after doing so much on the past few days. Also a bender.
After a few hours sleep we rose and went sailing with Uncle Adriano! What a name! The boat was custom made and my namesake was an excellent captain. I did what I could, however was best at sitting around doing nothing. I did help with a few things though and also had a turn at steering the boat.
Afterwards was apertivi at the sailing club, followed by fish at a nearby restaurant. Luvly jubbly!
We were all ready to hit the hay early and never repeat the stupid act of staying out all night again!
After a few hours sleep we rose and went sailing with Uncle Adriano! What a name! The boat was custom made and my namesake was an excellent captain. I did what I could, however was best at sitting around doing nothing. I did help with a few things though and also had a turn at steering the boat.
Afterwards was apertivi at the sailing club, followed by fish at a nearby restaurant. Luvly jubbly!
We were all ready to hit the hay early and never repeat the stupid act of staying out all night again!
B-Money and Adriano's excellent adventure - part 6
Off to Forli today to catch up with Doc and Julz (DAJ). We saw a few bunches heading out on the way and while it would have been a good experience to go with them, we thought this Forli adventure would be one to be reckoned with.
We turned up between 20-30 min late and were quickly ushered into change rooms in DAJ's pad. They seemed as keen as mustard to get cracking and after our experience in the heat the day before we did not need much encouragement to agree.
Doc fed me a macchiato and a mineral water at the coffee shop while I was still on my bike and then Julz led us out of town.
We headed towards a place called Castrocaro Terme, and there were a series of hills along the way. One we descended down was about 18% and had stunning views of the town below. It was one of those situations where it was too dangerous to stop, so the image needs to live in my mind. Trust me it was good. Apparently the boys smahsed their way up it during this year's Giro, and the writing on the road suggested the same (although there was nothing as cool as Big Unit Tours painted on the road).
At the coffee stop I was served the most amazing hot chocolate ever. You could almost stand the spoon vertically in it. The only problem was I had to gulp it down in the heat in world record time so I was not left behind!
An absolute cracking ride, which was followed by a lunch of equal proportions. We also watched Paris-Roubaix from 2006, which was the one where George Hincapie's steerer broke. I heard a song with the lyrics "I can ride a bike with no handlebars...", however Goegeous George could not that day. I do not think the lyrics include "on the pave in Paris-Roubaix" so we will leave the big seppo alone I think. Anyone who marries a Tour de France podium girl is doing something right I reckon.
Later we spotted Bono and his entourage roaming the streets of Forli.
Afterwards we went to this magnificent pizza place in the middle of nowhere. B-Money and I thought DAJ were playing funny buggers and were about to put foil over our eyes, etc, however we ended up at the restaurant. We even shared a gelato pizza for dessert.
Back home and we prepared ourselves to stay out all night, which I know B-Money in particular was looking forward to. The first place was an outdoorsy beach bar where a short Italian male got in my grill. He must have been loitering at the depart at Martingy and heard TBU. The next place was a bigger club on the beach and there were numbers there to rival a Melbourne crowd. A lot of dancing, however no short Italian man. After a few more places B-Money had almost made it to morning.
We went to the local coffee shop before going to the 6am concert. For some reason there was a tractor and truck on the beach, so the concert start was delayed. I slept on a banana lounge and woke up at the end of each tune to provide applause. Thank god Leica made the diplomatic move to get us out of there as we were all falling asleep!
We turned up between 20-30 min late and were quickly ushered into change rooms in DAJ's pad. They seemed as keen as mustard to get cracking and after our experience in the heat the day before we did not need much encouragement to agree.
Doc fed me a macchiato and a mineral water at the coffee shop while I was still on my bike and then Julz led us out of town.
We headed towards a place called Castrocaro Terme, and there were a series of hills along the way. One we descended down was about 18% and had stunning views of the town below. It was one of those situations where it was too dangerous to stop, so the image needs to live in my mind. Trust me it was good. Apparently the boys smahsed their way up it during this year's Giro, and the writing on the road suggested the same (although there was nothing as cool as Big Unit Tours painted on the road).
At the coffee stop I was served the most amazing hot chocolate ever. You could almost stand the spoon vertically in it. The only problem was I had to gulp it down in the heat in world record time so I was not left behind!
An absolute cracking ride, which was followed by a lunch of equal proportions. We also watched Paris-Roubaix from 2006, which was the one where George Hincapie's steerer broke. I heard a song with the lyrics "I can ride a bike with no handlebars...", however Goegeous George could not that day. I do not think the lyrics include "on the pave in Paris-Roubaix" so we will leave the big seppo alone I think. Anyone who marries a Tour de France podium girl is doing something right I reckon.
Later we spotted Bono and his entourage roaming the streets of Forli.
Afterwards we went to this magnificent pizza place in the middle of nowhere. B-Money and I thought DAJ were playing funny buggers and were about to put foil over our eyes, etc, however we ended up at the restaurant. We even shared a gelato pizza for dessert.
Back home and we prepared ourselves to stay out all night, which I know B-Money in particular was looking forward to. The first place was an outdoorsy beach bar where a short Italian male got in my grill. He must have been loitering at the depart at Martingy and heard TBU. The next place was a bigger club on the beach and there were numbers there to rival a Melbourne crowd. A lot of dancing, however no short Italian man. After a few more places B-Money had almost made it to morning.
We went to the local coffee shop before going to the 6am concert. For some reason there was a tractor and truck on the beach, so the concert start was delayed. I slept on a banana lounge and woke up at the end of each tune to provide applause. Thank god Leica made the diplomatic move to get us out of there as we were all falling asleep!
B-Money and Adriano's excellent adventure - part 5
Up and away, well almost. Straight into a ride (well drive) to Santarcangelo, then ride to Borghi, Sogliano al Rubicone, Mercato Saraceno and then Barbotto for a gelati and return.
Did I mention that we picked up an absolute babe (Simona) on the way. Not sure exactly where, perhaps Borghi, and then she unfortunately left us before the descent into Barbotto.
The climb out of Barbotto was tough - 5km or so, quite steep in places, and worst of all - no protection from the sun. Leica ground her way up there in quite amazing fashion considering she has not been on a bike for about 6 months. Apparently she was making her way up a hill called Kiliminjaro in Africa and she was not using a bike!
Apertivi at the yacht club was a lot of fun and the wait (not having a true apertivi in the prior stops in Italy) was definitiely worth it. I am on to the Aperol and Spritz and may make it my "chick's drink of choice" when back in Australia and feel the need to drink something feminine. Definitely another bottle that can be added to the booze collection (like we need it!).
Did I mention that we picked up an absolute babe (Simona) on the way. Not sure exactly where, perhaps Borghi, and then she unfortunately left us before the descent into Barbotto.
The climb out of Barbotto was tough - 5km or so, quite steep in places, and worst of all - no protection from the sun. Leica ground her way up there in quite amazing fashion considering she has not been on a bike for about 6 months. Apparently she was making her way up a hill called Kiliminjaro in Africa and she was not using a bike!
Apertivi at the yacht club was a lot of fun and the wait (not having a true apertivi in the prior stops in Italy) was definitiely worth it. I am on to the Aperol and Spritz and may make it my "chick's drink of choice" when back in Australia and feel the need to drink something feminine. Definitely another bottle that can be added to the booze collection (like we need it!).
Sunday, August 2, 2009
B-Money and Adriano's excellent adventure - part 4
To Rimini today, via Verona and Nalini.
Things are working fairly well. B-Money likes to drive, I can navigate and sleep. A perfect marriage.
We stopped quickly in Verona for lunch and thanks to Lonely Planet we managed to find a traditonal Veronese restaurant that was so traditional they had a "Menu Tourista". Not to worry, a quick feed and we were off to Nalini to look at how cycling clothes are made, before arriving at the Baldoni Bike shop in Forli at 5pm on the knocker to have B-Money's bike restored to it's former glory.
After lunch I was keen to get rolling, however B-Money wanted to do a quick walk into the main part of town. He lived up to his name by taking us directly to one of the main attractions which is the fake Juliet balcony. I am not sure why so many people get excited over this, however proceeded to live the moment and take a couple of happy snaps myself.
Back on the road and after some slight adjustments to the b/&% we were at Nalini. They appeared very pleased to see us and actually spent a fair bit of time showing us around the factory. We even met the owner, whose name escapes me, however was once the goalkeeper for AC Milan. He did not look like he was that big, however maybe goalkeepers were not back then.
The one thing that struck me as interesting was the large amount of handling and manual processes at this place, while machinery and equipment was state of the art. They are very proud of the fact that everything is made in Italy, however the price is higher as a result. I am sure they could automate a lot of what they do. They also white label a lot of garments for other companies like Addidas and Craft. The latter do the Saxo Bank kits and I had a blow up kangaroo signed by Andy Schleck, Jens Voight and Stuart O'Grady, however still did not hand it over.
Also interesting was the processes they used. Sublemation was the main one for large quantity orders. This is where paper is printed with the design, which is then pressed on to the fabric. Like an iron on transfer. Ditto to the digital process which is for smaller run orders. Then there is overprinting where the design is printed on the fabric, however this is used for simpler designs.
It is amazing to consider the lead times for the kits that we have purchased and then understand exactly how quickly they can turn something around if they have to (eg: for a tour de france yellow jersey wearer, or a newly crowned national champion).
On to Baldoni and we arrived fashionably late Italian style at 630pm! They proceeded to fix B-Money's bike straight away and even gave my drive train a free lube. I succumbed to my guilt and purchased a five euro bottle of lube! The bikes in this shop are amazingly cheap and you could pick up a top of the line model Pinarello Dogma for a touch over half the price you would get it for in Australia. That is still eight to ten thousand dollars, however it is a significant saving.
We arrived at Rimini for some great hospitality from Federica (Dott) before heading to one of the many bars on the beach. Super stuff.
Things are working fairly well. B-Money likes to drive, I can navigate and sleep. A perfect marriage.
We stopped quickly in Verona for lunch and thanks to Lonely Planet we managed to find a traditonal Veronese restaurant that was so traditional they had a "Menu Tourista". Not to worry, a quick feed and we were off to Nalini to look at how cycling clothes are made, before arriving at the Baldoni Bike shop in Forli at 5pm on the knocker to have B-Money's bike restored to it's former glory.
After lunch I was keen to get rolling, however B-Money wanted to do a quick walk into the main part of town. He lived up to his name by taking us directly to one of the main attractions which is the fake Juliet balcony. I am not sure why so many people get excited over this, however proceeded to live the moment and take a couple of happy snaps myself.
Back on the road and after some slight adjustments to the b/&% we were at Nalini. They appeared very pleased to see us and actually spent a fair bit of time showing us around the factory. We even met the owner, whose name escapes me, however was once the goalkeeper for AC Milan. He did not look like he was that big, however maybe goalkeepers were not back then.
The one thing that struck me as interesting was the large amount of handling and manual processes at this place, while machinery and equipment was state of the art. They are very proud of the fact that everything is made in Italy, however the price is higher as a result. I am sure they could automate a lot of what they do. They also white label a lot of garments for other companies like Addidas and Craft. The latter do the Saxo Bank kits and I had a blow up kangaroo signed by Andy Schleck, Jens Voight and Stuart O'Grady, however still did not hand it over.
Also interesting was the processes they used. Sublemation was the main one for large quantity orders. This is where paper is printed with the design, which is then pressed on to the fabric. Like an iron on transfer. Ditto to the digital process which is for smaller run orders. Then there is overprinting where the design is printed on the fabric, however this is used for simpler designs.
It is amazing to consider the lead times for the kits that we have purchased and then understand exactly how quickly they can turn something around if they have to (eg: for a tour de france yellow jersey wearer, or a newly crowned national champion).
On to Baldoni and we arrived fashionably late Italian style at 630pm! They proceeded to fix B-Money's bike straight away and even gave my drive train a free lube. I succumbed to my guilt and purchased a five euro bottle of lube! The bikes in this shop are amazingly cheap and you could pick up a top of the line model Pinarello Dogma for a touch over half the price you would get it for in Australia. That is still eight to ten thousand dollars, however it is a significant saving.
We arrived at Rimini for some great hospitality from Federica (Dott) before heading to one of the many bars on the beach. Super stuff.
B-Money and Adriano's excellent adventure - part 3
What started with a great breakie went pear shaped pretty quickly.
We were rolling out of town when a dude in full Lampre team kit with a Lampre team issue Wilier bicycle cruised past and gave us a glance of superiority. Even though I knew I was outclassed, I thought it would be un-Australian of me not to respond. So I sped up, sat on his wheel, and then started to get next to him a few times, with my hands on the top of the bars so it looked all so easy. I was just about to signal B-Money through so we could give him the one-two punch, when I glanced over my shoulder and he was nowhere to be seen. So I rolled into the next town and noticed a message "broken derailleur" on my phone.
I went back to get him and it was not pretty. Then I found myself returning to the hotel to retrieve the clean up van to collect the parts. What a great time for making a start to driving on the narrow streets of Lake Como, in a wide van, where the Italians drive very cautiously!
A couple of gutter jumps and a close call on the side mirror, however no permanent scars. I did miss B-Money as he decided to wait on the opposite side of the road from where I found him and I had tunnel vision at this stage. So I was able to drive some more!
Once B-Money and what was formerly his bike were in the van, I set off on my own. Back to almost the town I had already visited twice and then a right hander into a long climb. Just how long I did not know exactly, however I knew there were a few sections and that I had different towns to look for at the end of each section.
I ended up climbing for about two hours in some pretty harsh heat, so I was happy (or delerious) when I arrived at the top. After a few snapshots a kind lady from a shop filled one of my waterbottles. She was so happy to give me free water she issued me a "ciao" before the bottle was even full.
I was on my way back down looking for a restaurant I had been advised to attend. I looked and could not find the one I thought I was looking for. So I cut my losses and went back up to the top. An icy pole and gatorade from the kind lady from before made her even kinder and she informed me that the restaurant there was closed for a couple of years and the one a couple of km down the road would be closed for afternoon siesta. So I was not to have the pasta.
I descended and then went through to Como. Not the nicest city compared to what I have heard, perhaps a couple of long tunnels I had to ride through along the way did not put me in the most open and accomodating mood. Also, my gears were squeaking a fair bit. So much so, that at one point a couple of cops across the other side of the road turned around thinking a potentially unroadworthy car may have been approaching. At least that was the look they had in their eyes (which were hidden by their sunglasses).
Back to the hotel and B-Money took me into town for an apertivo. Major attitude was received, which seemed strange considering we were in a tourist town.
I drifted off to sleep yet again to the dolcet tones of B-Money's airwaves.
We were rolling out of town when a dude in full Lampre team kit with a Lampre team issue Wilier bicycle cruised past and gave us a glance of superiority. Even though I knew I was outclassed, I thought it would be un-Australian of me not to respond. So I sped up, sat on his wheel, and then started to get next to him a few times, with my hands on the top of the bars so it looked all so easy. I was just about to signal B-Money through so we could give him the one-two punch, when I glanced over my shoulder and he was nowhere to be seen. So I rolled into the next town and noticed a message "broken derailleur" on my phone.
I went back to get him and it was not pretty. Then I found myself returning to the hotel to retrieve the clean up van to collect the parts. What a great time for making a start to driving on the narrow streets of Lake Como, in a wide van, where the Italians drive very cautiously!
A couple of gutter jumps and a close call on the side mirror, however no permanent scars. I did miss B-Money as he decided to wait on the opposite side of the road from where I found him and I had tunnel vision at this stage. So I was able to drive some more!
Once B-Money and what was formerly his bike were in the van, I set off on my own. Back to almost the town I had already visited twice and then a right hander into a long climb. Just how long I did not know exactly, however I knew there were a few sections and that I had different towns to look for at the end of each section.
I ended up climbing for about two hours in some pretty harsh heat, so I was happy (or delerious) when I arrived at the top. After a few snapshots a kind lady from a shop filled one of my waterbottles. She was so happy to give me free water she issued me a "ciao" before the bottle was even full.
I was on my way back down looking for a restaurant I had been advised to attend. I looked and could not find the one I thought I was looking for. So I cut my losses and went back up to the top. An icy pole and gatorade from the kind lady from before made her even kinder and she informed me that the restaurant there was closed for a couple of years and the one a couple of km down the road would be closed for afternoon siesta. So I was not to have the pasta.
I descended and then went through to Como. Not the nicest city compared to what I have heard, perhaps a couple of long tunnels I had to ride through along the way did not put me in the most open and accomodating mood. Also, my gears were squeaking a fair bit. So much so, that at one point a couple of cops across the other side of the road turned around thinking a potentially unroadworthy car may have been approaching. At least that was the look they had in their eyes (which were hidden by their sunglasses).
Back to the hotel and B-Money took me into town for an apertivo. Major attitude was received, which seemed strange considering we were in a tourist town.
I drifted off to sleep yet again to the dolcet tones of B-Money's airwaves.
B-Money and Adriano's excellent adventure - part 2
We could not wait to get out of our hotel (if you are ever in Lausanne, do not stay in Ibis) and after helping ourselves to a quick breakie at a local coffee shop, we were off to Musee d'Olympique Lausanne. Incidentally, Lausanneans (not sure what the collective noun is for that lot, if anyone knows then please advise) are pretty proud of the fact that the Olympic headquarters are there. It kind of reminded me of Melburnians, which is my former stomping ground, so I will not rip into them too much. Except to sat that they are a bunch of... just kidding!
The Olympic Museum was not bad. The downstairs had a whole lot of quality artefacts about the history of the olympics. Apparently Switzerland was chosen as the venue as the Olympic headquarters as the decision was made to revive the ancient games into the modern games during world war one and they were at peace. Back to the museum - upstairs was pretty average with a number of memorabillia donations from athletes. It could have had a lot of cool stuff from recent games, taken you behind the scenes, etc, however I guess they need to protect their intellectual property.
Off to Lake Como via Martingy where we had been a couple of days earlier. We passed the UCI training facilities or headquarters in Arig on the way, however did not want to turn back when we arrived at Martingy. Good to know it is there and even better to have a reason to go back.
Martingy was pretty quiet and had just recovered from the thirty minutes of madness of a week or so earlier. As we could not get hooked up with a cow bell or cheap watch (FYI - the former cost a few hundred euro, so maybe the tales I heard about being thrown in jail if you go cow tipping and nick one are true, however like anything these days can be ordered on line).
Out of Martingy and up a hill towards Italy. I must say that I have noticed I have a hunger for climbing hills, even though I am at best a grinder rather than a pure climber. I look at hills now and the first thing that comes to mind is wanting to ride my bike up them.
I did not make B-Money wait for me in this instance, which was a good thing as there was a few of them to get through, as well as a few hundred other kilometers. I thought of the great Kenny Rogers and "you have to know when to hold them, know when to fold them, know when to walk away, know when to run. You never count your money, when you're sitting at the table, there'll be time enough for counting, when the dealin's done". Everybody know...
Right-o, pretty boring from here. In Switzerland that seemed like Germany, then Italy that seemed like Switzerland, however not the German one, then Italy that seemed like Italy, then Switzerland thet seemed like Italy and finally Italy / Italy. So it was great that we were warmed up to Italy slowly.
In the Italy that seemed like Switzerland there was a cracker of a road sign which I unfortunately did not get a snapshot of, so I will describe here. A truck going down an incline with the wheels on fire - ie: steep descent, careful you do not smoke it up and overcook the brakes!
The border control was again pretty lax, however I think having Italian plates helped. Also the European Union. I reckon they would strip search anyone from Poland or somewhere outside the EU as a matter of course.
Today was special from the perspective that we decided to ban the b&%$ and go old-school and use the map. So, as navigator, I had my work cut out for me. Suffice to say that we arrived. Not on time, however we never did with the Garmin anyway. Just less stressed.
I had a socceroos jersey on and a bloke came out of the hotel and said "Aussieland? Why are you coming here from Aussieland?" His name was Andri, son of Adriano (FYI - I am McLovin my adopted name while I am here) did some semi-pro cycling and he lived in Rushcutters Bay for a year or so. We had a quick chat about how all of the pro peleton must be on the juice and then he upgraded B-Money and me to a ball tearer of a room. Very romantic. I mentioned to B-Money that I just hoped the evening would live up to the expectations of where the bar had been set.
A mammoth walk to dinner at the place our new best friend suggested as he must get a kickback. We returned the favour by not dropping his name.
Another comment on the socceroos jersey on the way home at a gelateria. Unfortunately it was a bloke and he was at least 120, however it must be working!
The Olympic Museum was not bad. The downstairs had a whole lot of quality artefacts about the history of the olympics. Apparently Switzerland was chosen as the venue as the Olympic headquarters as the decision was made to revive the ancient games into the modern games during world war one and they were at peace. Back to the museum - upstairs was pretty average with a number of memorabillia donations from athletes. It could have had a lot of cool stuff from recent games, taken you behind the scenes, etc, however I guess they need to protect their intellectual property.
Off to Lake Como via Martingy where we had been a couple of days earlier. We passed the UCI training facilities or headquarters in Arig on the way, however did not want to turn back when we arrived at Martingy. Good to know it is there and even better to have a reason to go back.
Martingy was pretty quiet and had just recovered from the thirty minutes of madness of a week or so earlier. As we could not get hooked up with a cow bell or cheap watch (FYI - the former cost a few hundred euro, so maybe the tales I heard about being thrown in jail if you go cow tipping and nick one are true, however like anything these days can be ordered on line).
Out of Martingy and up a hill towards Italy. I must say that I have noticed I have a hunger for climbing hills, even though I am at best a grinder rather than a pure climber. I look at hills now and the first thing that comes to mind is wanting to ride my bike up them.
I did not make B-Money wait for me in this instance, which was a good thing as there was a few of them to get through, as well as a few hundred other kilometers. I thought of the great Kenny Rogers and "you have to know when to hold them, know when to fold them, know when to walk away, know when to run. You never count your money, when you're sitting at the table, there'll be time enough for counting, when the dealin's done". Everybody know...
Right-o, pretty boring from here. In Switzerland that seemed like Germany, then Italy that seemed like Switzerland, however not the German one, then Italy that seemed like Italy, then Switzerland thet seemed like Italy and finally Italy / Italy. So it was great that we were warmed up to Italy slowly.
In the Italy that seemed like Switzerland there was a cracker of a road sign which I unfortunately did not get a snapshot of, so I will describe here. A truck going down an incline with the wheels on fire - ie: steep descent, careful you do not smoke it up and overcook the brakes!
The border control was again pretty lax, however I think having Italian plates helped. Also the European Union. I reckon they would strip search anyone from Poland or somewhere outside the EU as a matter of course.
Today was special from the perspective that we decided to ban the b&%$ and go old-school and use the map. So, as navigator, I had my work cut out for me. Suffice to say that we arrived. Not on time, however we never did with the Garmin anyway. Just less stressed.
I had a socceroos jersey on and a bloke came out of the hotel and said "Aussieland? Why are you coming here from Aussieland?" His name was Andri, son of Adriano (FYI - I am McLovin my adopted name while I am here) did some semi-pro cycling and he lived in Rushcutters Bay for a year or so. We had a quick chat about how all of the pro peleton must be on the juice and then he upgraded B-Money and me to a ball tearer of a room. Very romantic. I mentioned to B-Money that I just hoped the evening would live up to the expectations of where the bar had been set.
A mammoth walk to dinner at the place our new best friend suggested as he must get a kickback. We returned the favour by not dropping his name.
Another comment on the socceroos jersey on the way home at a gelateria. Unfortunately it was a bloke and he was at least 120, however it must be working!
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