Was it really only 2 months ago?

They say you can't keep a good man down. Me neither, so I'm back again (Carol will be pleased) with one more post.

Hard to believe that it isn't even 2 months since Grizzly and I rode off into the rain. It seems a lot longer, for me certainly, can't vouch for him. I think having to go to work every day might have some bearing. Without it though, I wouldn't be able to indulge in these escapades, so every cloud, eh?

Thought I'd finish up the blog with my usual facts and figures. I know I threw out a few in the last post but here's a few more, for the stattos amongst you.

• 2 members of the tour.
• We set out on the 6th day of the 7th month.
• The tour lasted 19 days.
• On 50% of the days we experienced some precipitation, though we weren't always riding through it.
• The tour went through 6 countries.
• I took 645 photos.
• Distance covered by myself, 2851.3 miles.
• The Sprint supped 231.54 litres or 50.93 gallons of fuel.
• The total cost of fuel was, £299.36.
• The best MPG returned was, 67.96, on Day 18.
• Grizzly and I supped 71 beers each, including 3 at our end of tour farewell dinner back in blighty.
• Don't ask me how much we spent! €€€
• The smallest beers we drank were 250ml.
• The largest beers we drank were 1 litre.
• I carried 2 beers glasses in my luggage from day 1.
• We ate 4 pizzas during the tour.
• We negotiated untold hairpin bends. (some are on video)
• We/I made numerous wrong turns.
• We made numerous coffee stops and an equal, if not greater number, of toilet stops.
• We stopped at hundreds (maybe) zebra crossings in Italy.
• I rode through 1 stop sign.
• We walked at least 20km on the tour.
• We took 1 taxi ride.
• We stopped at 20 petrol stations for fuel.
• We stopped in at least 3 McDonalds.
• Our hotel costs (some including meals) came to £1374.96.
• Other meal costs (not snacks/coffees) came to somewhere in the region of £300.
• We had 1 thoroughly brilliant time.
• We visited the last resting place of 2 of my distant relatives and of many thousands of other brave souls, lost to the 2 World Wars.

And finally, I came back, to my 1 and only, Catherine..... and a number 48 off the Chinese takeaway menu!

You may remember, way back on Day 1, that I acquired a couple of glasses (1 glass, 1 goblet actually) from the 1815 bar in Waterloo. Well, here is a picture of them. As you can see, they both made it through the tour unscathed, thanks in no short measure, to my pants!



For the price of a pair of Grizzly's braces! (US, suspenders)

And that now, really IS the end of this blog. I'd just like to finish up by thanking you all for taking the trouble to follow our exploits, confirm that there will be no Wild Hogs Scandinavian tour in 2015, maybe in 2016 but to say instead, Cath and I will be driving Route 66, next September, so watch out for that blog.

And finally, this has been the William Walker Memorial Tour. May he rest in peace.

Thanks again for the memories Dudley, gone but not forgotten.

William 'Dudley' Walker

Day 19 - Arras, St Nicholas to Blighty

We were awake normal time, though I had a little lay in, whilst Grizzly got his gear together and went out to pack his bike. We didn't have far to go, so I didn't feel we had to rush. This was the last day of the tour :-(

We filled up on the staples of the continental brekkie and set off towards the Vimy memorial, about 6 miles up the road. Once again tomtom took us a completely different way to that I had seen when planning the route. Tomtom also threw us, me mainly, a last day curved ball too or should I say curved road. With no sound guidance I'm constantly looking down at the way the roads bend and deciding which turns I need to make. As we came along this particular road, tomtom is showing me straight ahead, on the main road. Well, that's what I thought. In actual fact, the main road curved almost 90 degrees right, whilst our route was left (straight ahead) up a side road. So, I go sailing straight up the side road, only realising as the white line curved round underneath me, what I had done. Luckily, very luckily, there was nothing coming the opposite way on the main road, else Sprint and I would have surely parted company! Thanks tomtom! As we stopped at the Vimy memorial, Grizzly was quick to point out what I had done, though I think it caught him out a bit too. All's well that ends well though. No harm done.

Like the Memorial to the Missing, the Vimy memorial is huge. This is the Canadian memorial and once again it is covered with thousands of names. It is brilliant white stone, beautifully carved and very well designed. We took the usual photos and then drove a little way back down to the visitor centre, to check out some trenches. This seemed to be the place to come if you like jogging, as there were a number of older ladies and gents, 'running' along the roadside.

Vimy Ridge Canadian Memorial

The visitor centre was closed, we were that early but we had a quick walk through the trenches. Much of the surrounding area has been left as it was, so the woodland is pock marked with shell crater after shell crater and one is respectfully asked not to walk in them.

We remounted, our next destination, La Coupole, a German V2 rocket bunker, now a historical exhibition and 3D planetarium. Our fuel stop today was at the end of the day, back in Calais, so it was a straight ride through. En route we had to make a slight detour, as our road was blocked but eventually, after zigzagging through some back streets, we found the main road again. It was probably about 11:00 by the time we arrived at La Coupole. A visit could take 2.5 hours, so we worked back from our train time, deciding we had to leave, latest 14:00. In the end we left around 13:00.

I must admit to being a little disappointed. After walking through some tunnels and exhibits, you take a lift up into the dome of the bunker, to the two main exhibit areas. One side is about the war in general, the other about the development of the rockets, V1 and V2 and beyond. I didn't feel it was clear when coming out of the lift which way one should go around the place, nor was the wifi headset really much cop. Even so, it was interesting.

V1 Flying Bomb, The Doodlebug!

We were blessed with the weather again. It was once again scorching hot. We didn't have far to go though to Calais, so we set off to cover the last 50 minutes or so. We got to Calais and fuelled up first. To Grizzly's relief there was a manned kiosk, so he could pay cash. Then we went across the road to the Auchan supermarket, to buy some sweeties. Grizzly was getting some for grand children and friends kids, me for the children at work!

Purchase made, we went across to MacDonalds one last time for a drink, and a chicken wrap, in Grizzly's case. And then it was time to make our way to the tunnel. We were a bit early but that meant we could get an earlier train, though only 15 minutes earlier.

As I stopped at UK border control, a nice smiley blonde lady (unusual I know, for border agency staff) told me I'd have to take my helmet off. "it's not a pretty sight" I said. As I took it off, she said, "oh, yes, put it back on"! I said to her she could have flattered me a bit, to which she replied, that she'd seen a lot worse. I suppose that was good enough, best I was going to get anyway.

We got on the train and were loaded with 2 other bikes. An Irish couple and a guy on a Harley Road King. We spent most for the journey chatting with him. Both had a fair way further than us to go and as we came off the train, they both shot off and left us. 50 minutes later, we were outside my home and unpacking all the gear from the bikes. That was it, my tour was complete.

I'd set out on 6th July in peeing rain and returned on 24th in scorching sunshine. In that time I had covered 2,851.3 miles and ridden through 6 countries. It had been a blast but it wasn't over yet. We still had the end of tour dinner, which turned out to be takeaway Chinese from the village and Grizzly still has to make his way back home, via Leigh Delamere services on the M4. After the Chinese , which was washed down by another 3 beers (71 in total), we had a quick scan through some of my pictures. There are over 650 though, so they shall have to wait for another time. You've seen a smattering of them throughout the blog but I still need to get them (a selection) loaded up to Flickr, so I'm not done yet.

Cath came round for the Chinese and stayed over, so it is her turn to suffer my snoring.  Tomorrow, she'll be off to work and I am working from home, just as soon as Grizzly hits the road.
 

 

 

Day 18 - Pont L'Eveque to Arras, St Nicholas - Part 2

It was by no means gourmet but it filled a gap. The drink was probably more welcome than anything, despite not being chilled, as the sun was blazing down once again.

Yep, deja vue!

Having 'feasted', we made tracks for our next stop, just a few kilometres up the road, the crash site of the infamous Red Baron, Baron Manfred von Richthofen. There's not much to see really, a sign board telling that this is believed to be the spot where he crash landed, after being shot from the ground by Canadian troops and a field of corn! It's great to stand and imagine the scene though, of his Fokker Tri-plane coming to ground 96 years previously, just where you are now standing.

Back on the bikes and you'd think we were heading for Scotland. Nah, the weather is far too nice! We are though, heading for the Lochnagar Crater or the scene of La Grande Mine. This is a massive crater, maybe 30-35 metres across and 15-20 deep. It was caused or created, by the Royal Engineers, who dug tunnels under the German trenches and planted masses of explosives. The destruction of this part of France, by the 'mine' heralded the start of the Battle of the Somme, on 1st July 1916. It is said, that the blast was so huge, the sound was heard in London and that it showered dirt and debris, 4000 feet into the air.

Lochnagar Crater

I walked one way, Grizzly the other. There were a couple of coach parties, so it was quite busy. On my way round, I came upon a cross. A memorial to one chap who had gone missing when the mine was detonated. His body, believe it or not, was only recovered as recently as 1998! As I continued my way around the crater's rim, I noticed some guys filming, near to where Grizzly was standing. As I approached I asked Grizzly if he knew who they were. He didn't but a little detective work, i.e. looking at the writing on the tripod bag, showed they were from BBC's Newsround programme. I've not got a clue who the geezer was doing his bit to camera but I know it wasn't John Craven!

Back at the bike and getting ready to go, I heard Grizzly talking to someone. Then he beckoned me over. It was a French couple, Bertrand & Valerie they introduced themselves as. Bertrand wanted to know if we had anyone in our family who had fought in the Somme region. I explained we had a relative (William) buried at Corbie, who had been killed in 1916, like so many, many others. Bertrand said that his grandfather was 93, too young to have taken part in the war but is forever grateful for the sacrifice the soldiers made to free France, as was he and with that he shook my hand and thanked me. Gulp! Made me feel quite humble, a totally unexpected but moving experience. I replied that we should all be thankful and with that, they went on their way.

Astride the Sprint again and another shortish dash up the road. This time we were heading to the Memorial of the Missing. I'd seen photos but had no idea how big it was, until it appeared over the hedgerow. We parked up in the car park, made our way through the visitor centre to the monument itself. I have no idea how tall it is, I dare say you can google it, suffice to say, it is big enough to list the names of approximately 73,000 soldiers! Yes, thousand!

Memorial to the Missing, Thiepval

We were almost done for the day now, a small jump from this village of Thiepval, to Pozieres took us to the Australian and Tank memorials. Directly opposite each other on the roadside, one, I'm sure you can guess, commemorates the first use of tanks by the British Army, which took place in this area. The second commemorates the exploits and sacrifice, the greatest of all by the Australians during the war and is known as the Windmill site. The ruins of the windmill, destroyed during the battle in 1916, can be seen under the grass, ahead of the memorial stone. From July to September 1916, the Australians suffered 23,000 casualties at this site, with more than 6700 losing their lives. The figures for the loss of life in this area are staggering, yet it's all so calm and peaceful now.

Australian Memorial, The Windmill Site, Pozieres 

Photos done, next stop was our hotel, just north of Arras.

I gestured to Grizzly and said " I wouldn't be surprised if it's raining over there". "Nah, we'll be OK, I can feel it in my water".

A few miles down the road, it started to rain. Not massively but quite big drops. As we turned north, I could see we were heading towards the brighter and blue sky, so I pushed on without worry for the waterproofs. Before long we were in the sunshine again and parking up at the hotel.

We were greeted at the desk by a very attractive young lady, jet black hair, very pretty and slim. Certainly the most pleasing to the eye receptionist of the entire tour. Grasp of English, none!  I've never wished I could speak the local language more than I did at that moment. The schoolboy stuff got us by though and we were soon in the room. We had had to book dinner, so we had about 50 minutes to get ready. Grizzly was first in the massive, yet under equipped bathroom, whilst I tried to connect to wifi. Not a chance. Nothing for it, I had to go and ask the young lady for assistance ;-)

It's surprising what you can get done with a few gestures and a smattering of the lingo. Turned out I was connecting to the wrong access point. How stupide of moi! That sorted it was my turn to freshen up, then we hit the restaurant.

The receptionist also turned out to be our waitress, taking our order of salmon tagliatelle and of course, the accompanying beers. The food was OK but in a very runny/watery sauce. We needed the bread to mop it up. Finished we took our beers outside to the garden and chatted. Grizzly sent me back in for another, I guess someone had to do it but by now, 2 big beers in, I couldn't understand a word she said, so asked her for it "en anglais s'il-vous-plait". I'm buggered if I can remember what she said now but I paid the bill and took the beers back outside.

A lovely pair ;-)

This is our last night in France, tomorrow I shall be in my own bed and not having to listen to Grizzly driving them home. I'm sure he'll be glad not to have to listen to my racket either. Seems he has shown the willpower of 10 men, in not smothering me with a pillow. Me snore? Feck off!

We only have about 80 miles or so to go tomorrow. We'll start at Vimy Ridge, then stop off at La Coupole.

Until then.

 

Day 18 - Pont L'Eveque to Arras, St Nicholas - Part 1

There was a nice spread for brekkie, amongst the best we have had. We filled up with the usual continental fare and Grizzly his half gallon (slight exaggeration) of strong coffee. Fed, we hit the road again, next stop, somewhere, would need to be a fuel stop.

The weather forecast was looking good again, though there was a threat of thunderstorms around Paris. We would be far enough away not to get wet though.

We set out, heading north eastish. I was on the lookout for a fuel stop. Pont L'Eveque itself had a small one but there was a queue, so we rode on by. And we rode on and on. The Sprint's fuel gauge showed 2 bars, which usually gives me about 40 miles. Consumption was down so I maybe had 50 in the tank. As we continued, I saw signs for fuel but never actually saw the fuel stations. Before long I was down to one bar and suddenly we seemed to be in the middle of a huge forest. Now I'm not one to panic but I was starting to get twitchy. I had no idea how long we would be going through this terrain, with no map, only a ribbon of road to follow on tomtom and we'd done about 15 miles since I hit one bar. In the UK I fill up every 200 miles, I reckoned I could maybe get 240 out of it. At the moment I wasn't sure what I'd done. Eventually we came to a roundabout at a major looking road. I pulled over and told Grizzly we needed to find fuel. His older tomtom allows him to search for such things as petrol stations, if mine does, I've not worked out how yet. 650 metres down a side road or 3.3k.

We set off down the side road, which led to a village. An old disused pump sat at the side of the road. Would now be a good time to panic? Grizzly checked tomtom again and said he didn't have anything showing now, then he took off, me in nervous pursuit. Two left turns and there was a fuel station, behind a small parade of shops. The usual unmanned 24 hour job but it was open, that was the main thing. With a sigh of relief, I fuelled up. I had covered 225 miles but it only took 17.5 litres, so I still had 2.5 litres left in the tank. What was I panicking for, good for another 20 miles at least ;-)

Back on the main road we set about covering some mileage, crossing the River Seine, before we pulled into a Les Routiers café for a coffee. There were a few truckers in there, one having a wash in the rest room. As English speaking bikers, we weren't exactly welcomed with a double cheeker. They were more interested in the TV, reporting on the previous days' minibus/juggernaut collision in which 6 people (4 kids) had died.

Could've been, if I'd run out of fuel!

Back on the bikes, our next stop was the scheduled fuel stop We'd covered about 70 miles since the enforced stop, so this was a splash and dash. As it turned out, we didn't actually go to the scheduled stop. I was just about to turn off the main road when I spotted a Total garage ahead, so we went to that one instead. I used my card and we filled both bikes, not much over €15 for the pair, then we were on our way to Corbie cemetery, the final resting place of my Grandfather's cousin, William.

This time we were blessed with blazing sunshine. On day 1, at Charles Devall's grave, it had been peeing down. This was an altogether more pleasant experience, if I can say that. The gardeners were on site leaf blowing and grass cutting. At the grave, I found a poppy cross, placed there by my brother Paul, just 3 days earlier. I placed my own tribute and took some photos. At this point, a gardener came up and gave me some round lead pellets and a bullet, apparently from La Guerre. How he's come by these just lying about the cemetery after all these years, I don't know. I thanked him and we made our way back to the bikes.

William Devall  R.I.P.

It was lunchtime, so we set off in search of somewhere to eat. We'd hardly got into second gear when we happened across a LIDL supermarket. In we went, picked up some ready made sarnies and energy drinks and ate them in the car park.  Deja vue?

 

 

 

Day 17 - Bayeux to Pont L'Eveque Part 2



It was by no means gourmet but it filled a gap. The drink was probably more welcome than anything, though it wasn't chilled, as the sun was blazing down.

 

As we discussed our next stop, "what's next Woody?", Grizzly announced that he didn't think he'd make the next fuel stop, despite it only being about 30 miles away. We'd just passed a small fuel station, so he decided he would top up there. No worries, he could always top it off again at the scheduled stop later, which was our next stop in tomtom.

We duly set off in search of refined liquid gold! The fuel stop was lady service, though as she went off to give someone their change, Grizzly made it self service. I'm not sure she was too impressed but it wasn't as if she was going to get a tip or anything. My tip would be, if you want to fill the bike up, don't walk off and leave Grizzly near the pump!

We set off again, now heading for an unnecessary fuel stop. Arriving at the supermarket pumps, we found again nobody manning the kiosk. OK for me but after having seen his credit card charged, apparently, the maximum, at the places Grizzly had used his card, he wasn't about to use it again for about half a gallon. I reckoned I had about 60-80 miles left in my tank, so we aborted and rode the 200 metres up the rode to the Montgomery statue. Unsurprisingly, this place is called Colleville Montgomery. Photos taken, next on our agenda was the German gun battery at Longues-sur-mer. I had the Merville battery in the schedule too but I've already been there and thought with time pressures, we should cut it out.

 

A big gun, Longues-sur-mer

I'd read that it cost €4 to visit the battery but it turned out that was for a guided tour, of which there wasn't one in English anytime soon, so a DIY visit was free. There are 4 gun emplacements, one destroyed, with fragments of gun barrel buried in the ground but visible. The other 3 were intact and fully accessible. Grizzly was feeling the heat I think and decided one  (the second) was enough for him, so I wandered off to the other two on my own. On returning, I found him lying on the grass, so snapped off a couple of shots of the poor soul. It would have been rude not to ;-)





                      Getting down's alright, getting up?



Next stop on our D-Day tour was one of the most famous sites, that of Pegasus Bridge. It's changed quite a bit since my last visit, when my girls were young, probably 15 or more years back. There is now a memorial centre/museum, which wasn't there before. We parked in the car park and walked back to the site, marked by memorial stones, where the British gliders had crash landed, right by the bridge. I was surprised to see that the bridge is not the original, this one dating from 1994. I didn't recall that from my previous visit.

Over the bridge is the famous café. Its proximity to the bridge meant it was the first dwelling liberated by the British soldiers on 6th June. The place is filled with memorabilia now but despite the lady saying "no photo", I managed to squeeze one off, as she prepared our coffees. Coffee drunk, we made our way back to the memorial building. In the grounds sits the original bridge. We managed to get a couple of photos over the fence, neither of us having the inclination to pay to go in.

 

 

Back on the bikes, we were less than an hour away from our hotel in Pont L'Eveque. The Eden Park sits on the banks of a huge lake, a very pleasant setting. Although it was quite a posh place, the room itself didn't provide any aircon and wasn't actually that big, so I guess you are paying for location. We freshened up and then went in to dine. Overlooking the lake and being watched by about 20 ducks (which, incidentally, was on the menu!), we ate fish and chips, washed down with some Pelforth Brune, taking our beer total for the tour to 65.

 

View from the restaurant, Eden Park Hotel

Grizzly took a wander outside to take some photos and came back agitated by a large dragonfly he had seen. If it was as big as he made out, it was probably a bird but who knows? I'm waiting to see the photo evidence.

As usual, I'm listening to Grizzly's snoring, which signals it is near my bedtime too. Tomorrow we head into World War 1 territory, the Somme region, with, amongst other things, a visit to William Devall's grave.

 

Day 17 - Bayeux to Pont L'Eveque - Part 1

 

If he was a little smaller, I could get him stuffed and mounted in a clock!  I'm getting used to it now though and this morning, after a quick visit to the loo, I got back into bed for a few minutes more, much to Grizzly's chagrin.

Eventually though, I was up watered and fed along with my Irish chum and we set wheels in motion for the brief ride up to the British Cemetery. Parking up in the car park of the Museum of the Battle of Normandy, we took some photos of the tanks and then walked up the road to the cemetery. This is the largest Second World War cemetery of Commonwealth soldiers in France. Over 4600 graves, including 466 German soldiers. The gardeners were out mowing the grass, even at this early time. More photos, one or two with Dudley's bandana and we were back on the road.


Churchill 'Flame Thrower' Tank

Our first stop, another not originally on the itinerary, was at Sainte-Marie-du-Mont. This was the first town liberated by the Americans, as they fought their way off and away from Utah beach. The focal point is the church around which the main road skirts. Around the square are memorabilia stores, museums and about a dozen story boards, telling of events that occurred during the liberation. I don't think Grizzly got any stickers here but the memorabilia shop was selling uniforms, Nazi flags and even machine guns!

 

A few miles up the road is Utah beach. Lining the road are special memorials to soldiers that lost their lives. For example, A soldier called Jones had a memorial in his name, Jones Road, it read. A nice touch. There are also kilometre markers, starting at the beach, with kilometre 0.

We parked up and took a walk down onto the wide expanse of beach. It's easy to see how the advancing soldiers were cut down so easily by the German machine guns on that day in June 1944. It's equally difficult to understand how the blazes they made it off there but make it off they did and the rest is history. We took photos of the various memorials before Grizzly got the scent of stickers once more, at the close by café/souvenir shop.

Utah Beach

Purchase made, we were back on the bike. heading for Pont du Hoc.

The sun was well and truly up now and we were roasting, as we parked the bikes up. I'd hardly turned my back for a split second, when Grizzly was 'in conversation' with a couple of French ladies, probably both of whom had been alive during the war! He's an old dog ;-)  They were keen to know where he was from and what make his bike was, thinking, I believe, it was a Harley. I don't think they or he understood what the other was saying really but the message was never the less conveyed and they went off happy.
 

Pont du hoc is where the American Rangers scaled sheer cliffs in an attempt to disable the German gun battery at the top. After fierce fighting and many casualties, the determination of the Rangers paid off and they were able to capture the cliff top, only to find no guns. However, moving inland they discovered the guns hidden down a country lane!

Looking over the cliff, I have to say, it doesn't look too steep but them I'm looking down, not trying to scramble up with someone shooting at me! A remarkable story though, as were many during the war and testament to the bravery of our American allies.

 

Looking over the cliff, Pont du Hoc

Our next stop would be the other American beach, Omaha and the American Cemetery. We didn't do the beach this time, as the cemetery is set back a ways (for the yanks ;-)  ) and they reckon about a 30 minute round trip. It's not the shallow beach that Utah was. Here the dunes rise quite steeply off it and must have afforded the Germans a superb vantage point and site for their machine guns. Once again, it is difficult to comprehend how the Marines got off the bloody place.

Turning away from the sea, there is a sea of a different kind, that of thousands upon thousands of white stone crosses. Take up any point within this place and you will look along line upon line of crosses. Straight in front of you, at right angles, diagonally. Nobody but nobody could fail to be moved by this sight. Walking away from the main memorial, you come to another building, beyond which, stretch more and more crosses. There are, I believe, just short of 9,400 crosses, though it looks more when you are on the ground amongst them.

 

The American Cemetery, Omaha Beach

Having taken our photos, it was time to find some lunch. Grizzly had spotted a small supermarket a couple of kilometres back down the road. We rode back and bought ourselves a sarnie and drink, which we sat outside and ate.

 

Day 16 - Saint Mars d'Outille to Bayeux

"Are we alright Woody", went my alarm. Despite us having an enforced late brekkie, Tina and Mark aren't early risers, I only got an extra 10 minutes! Single rooms on the next tour Grizzly!

Les Cheres Meres is idyllic, so much so, that Grizzly said he could stay there and Mark could have his bike to continue the tour!

Having got ready, we sat on the sun kissed patio for our brekkie, with a family of four from Essex. They were on their way down to near Bordeaux on the Atlantic coast for a camping holiday.
 

Fuelled up, our goodbyes said, we were out on the country lanes again. The rain from the previous evening had totally dried up and we were looking at another warm day. Our next stop would be the Montormel memorial site.

Montormel

Today we rode the Corridor of Death. Not some dodgy french motorway but the corridor of land that the German 7th Army and 5th Panzer Division were squeezed into in August 1944, as they strived to retreat towards Paris. The Allies encircled them, eventually, killing 10,000 and capturing 40,000. 50,000 more escaped before the  pincer movement was complete and the 'pocket' closed. This we learnt at the Montormel Memorial Site, known as Hill 262 in the conflict. There is a very good film and explanation of how the battle came about, followed by a guided talk, as you look out over the valley below. The guide points out the various towns and places of importance during the battle and even recounts a personal experience his grandmother had in a field with a young German officer. There's another film and a good static exhibition too. It is a quite remarkable place, remarkable story and well worth a visit if your are in this part of the world.

Peaceful now but once a bloody battlefield

They were laying new concrete paths at the site and someone, who shall remain nameless, managed to step in the fresh concrete whilst taking a picture of a memorial stone. I don't think they noticed though, so my print (oops!) may remain as a constant reminder of my visit.

 

A short 20 mile blast through the Corridor of Death, took us to our next fuel stop and from there it was an hour or so to our Premiere Classe hotel, on the outskirts of Bayeux. When we arrived, there was nobody in reception, as it didn't open till 17:00 but cleverly, they have an automated check-in machine. Put the credit card you booked the room with in and it produces a key card, as it tells you your room number. Then all you do is swipe it at the outer door, to gain access to the building. Simples! There were some people sitting in the car park, waiting for the receptionist to arrive. Not sure why, you didn't already have to have had a reservation to check in. The room wasn't bad, no worse than the Ibis in Munich, though in this one, there was the double/single combo, which meant I had to climb up to the single bunk. Not a problem, aside from the metal stepladder which kills the feet getting in or out. Cheap does as cheap is, so no complaints.

 

Freshened up, we set about walking into town. It wasn't actually that far and we were soon by the Cathedral. Grizzly made his usual beeline for the souvenir shops, where he could practise his language skills. "Do you have any stickers?", seems to be an internationally recognised phrase ;-), least it should be, as far as Grizzly is concerned. Maybe learn the phrase in the local language next time G? To be fair, in Bayeux, they understand English or even Irish, so he got what he was looking for.

 

We made a quick visit to the Cathedral, where there was a service in progress, so I wandered off to take some photos, whilst Grizzly said a few prayers and lit a couple of candles..one for Dudley, of course. Then we took a quick walk around the town, before settling down for dinner and beer.

Bayeux Cathedral

Whilst sitting in the street for dinner, I witnessed this young woman from one of the shops along the way, let her little puppy out to do his business. One of the other diners was saying how cute the dog was until it squatted and deposited on the pavement. Jobbie done, he was ushered back in the shop and the door closed. No pooping scooping going on there. Ugh!

 

As we walked back to the hotel, I checked out one of the road signs near the hotel, which confirmed what I suspected, we were a short distance from the Bayeux British (Commonwealth) Cemetery. It was decided we would add that to our itinerary for the next morning. Tomorrow will be a busy day, as we plan on doing a lot of the D-Day related stuff, now including the cemetery up the road.

 

Grizzly is already in the land of the leprechauns and snoring soundly, so I'd best get some kip myself. Weather forecast looks OK over here for tomorrow, though we may just catch the edge of the showers when we head out east to Pont L'Eveque, our overnighter tomorrow.

 

 

 

 

 

Day 15, Part 2 - Les Cheres Meres

Les Cheres Meres sits at the end of a gravel driveway, flanked by cornfields and grassland. The latter, is inhabited by four lovely horses, belonging to the B&B.

 

As we pulled up outside the farmhouse, we were greeted by barking from inside. Though there was no sign of the owners of the deep sounding barks, it was clear these weren't going to be small dogs.

 

It was a couple of minutes before our hostess Tina came out to greet us. I apologised for being early, as she was clearly a little agitated. Our room was still being tended to by her partner, Mark.  No problem, we sat on the patio and had our first beer of the day.

 

Grizzly grabbed his camera and wandered off around the garden to photograph some flowers (he's going soft lads!), whilst I took a walk down to see the horses. As I approached, all four came wandering over to meet me. All four stood side by side looking at me, the ideal opportunity for a photo. Out came the phone, shot was lined up and click, just as one decide to turn away and another put his head down! Bugger! Several attempts to get 3 heads looking my way failed fairly miserably.

Best of the bunch

Next thing I know I'm getting a shout from Grizzly, something about dogs. Then bounding towards me, at great speed, came two enormous, well one enormous, one just big, dogs. I braced myself in case they decided to jump up at me but they just ran around me barking, until I grabbed them and patted them. Lovely dogs, a pair of Bernese Mountain dogs, the big boy just 2 years old.

Still a puppy!

 Back at the house I met Mark and instantly noticed he was a Gooner, wearing his Arsenal shorts, so we chatted about the team, signings, etc, before I carried my gear inside, to the little annexe at the end of the main house.

 

Inside, we put the TV on, as Grizzly always did, as today was the day they finished the TDF stage, in Nimes, on the very tarmac we had walked on 3 days earlier. We just had time to freshen up before the climax by which time outside, it had started to pee down. No matter, our dining table, etc, was all under cover! We watched the finish of the race, where the guy got beaten just feet from the line after leading for about 160 miles and sank another beer, that Mark had brought round. Then I did some blogging whilst we waited for dinner.

 

We sat down to chicken, salad and chilli roasties, washed down with copious amounts of beer, included in the price of the meal, followed by a home made cheesecake. Deelish!

 

Before long it was time for Grizzly's beauty sleep and he took to his bed, whilst I tried to catch up on the blog. It's now time for me to get some kip, though brekkie is later tomorrow, so I might get a bit of a lie in!

 

Tomorrow we shall be heading to Bayeux, as we get into D-Day territory.

Les Cheres Meres

 

 

Day 15 Exideuil to Saint Mars d'Outille

Before I turned out the light last night, it had started to rain, soon followed by the lightning and thunder. I hadn't been asleep long before the shutters were banging in the wind, so up I got to close them, getting a soaking arm in the process, having to reach round to grab hold of them!

 

Louise had said she got someone in to do breakfast. Not sure why. Hardly a banquet!

 

After last night's rain, the bikes were, of course, soaked. We were parked on a sandy base, so the rain had splattered that everywhere. This morning, however, was looking promising, though the forecast had suggested more thunder was on the way. Waterproofs were strategically moved to the top of the top-bag.

 

We set off, to "Bon Journee" from one of the neighbours, crossed the river Vienne and made our way north. We were making very good time, as again the French roads, even off motorway, allow some reasonable pace to be maintained. We crossed the Vienne another couple of times along the way and the Loire, just before our fuel stop. As it was Sunday, pretty much everywhere was closed and the Leader Price supermarket was no exception. The fuel stations are 24/7 though, so you can still buy fuel, so long as you use a card. Grizzly prefers cash but needs must. Fuelled up and ready to go, we were well ahead of the time I'd told Tina, at Les Cheres Meres, we would arrive. We still had to find somewhere to have a lunch stop, so that would kill some time but even so, we were probably looking at being 2 hours early.

 

We carried on, the weather still holding out. It wasn't too bright but by the same token, didn't look like thunder either. Tomtom took us down some nice little excursions. One second we'd be on a nice A road, next we'd be sent off down a narrow D road. At one point we ended up running over a tiny bridge, barely wide enough for a car. At another point, we passed a little old lady, rotavating her back garden, so tomtom has given us some sights we wouldn't ordinarily have seen.

 



A sunflower field, one of many



In a couple of places the road was wet but we just seemed to be out of the range of the rain. Looking for a lunch stop, we pulled into this little village. I have no idea what it was called. We parked in front of the Marie, the town hall and made our way over to a bar/snack bar. It looked a bit grim, so we went across to the opposite corner, a bar/restaurant, which looked far more promising. A lady greeted us. As we had dinner booked for the evening we didn't want much. I struggled to get across that we wanted something small, her thinking we wanted breakfast. She did speak a fair bit of English though, so we let her do most of the work! We ended up with some little French bread toasts with goats cheese, lamb and tomato on them, on a bed of salad, washed down with a cup of coffee.

 

The lady, Marie-Jo, asked me if I spoke French. Clearly my attempts earlier had made her think otherwise.  I said a little, at which point she tried, or so I thought, to give me a lesson. Je tu aime, she had me say. Then giggled, when I repeated it, coz I'd said I liked her! We weren't sure she was the full Franc (Euro) but she was friendly enough. Suddenly Grizzly became a linguist like never before all tour, asking for the bill in French! She wrote good afternoon on it and her name. I thought she had taken a shine to Grizzly but he thought the other way, as she asked me if I was tired. Maybe she was suggesting a lie down, I don't know, I have been looking tired, due to the 6:45 alarm call every feckin' morning! We spent an hour in the restaurant, during which time it rained quite hard. Grizzly had brought his helmet in, whilst I'd left mine outside. She thought I was "stupide"! I still think she had the hots for him, rather than me! If indeed for either of us.

 

When it came time to leave, Monsieur Ahern proffered his cheek and Marie-Jo gratefully pecked both. "Oh yes", I said to him, winding him up, at which point I got the same treatment. She was harmless enough and amused us for a while, whilst the rain passed over.

 

Back on the bike, which had now dried in the sun, we had about an hour to go to reach Les Cheres Meres. In fact it was less, so we arrived at the most delightful farmhouse, in Saint Mars-d'Outille, two and a half hours ahead of the time I'd said. Our room wasn't ready, you'll not be surprised to learn.

 

 

Day 14 - Villefranche to Exideuil

I was up early, even before "how we doing Woody?". My stomach was in turmoil.  3 trips to the loo before we left and some tablets seemed to do the trick. Can't imagine anything on the pizza could have caused this. Maybe the beer? Glass of Leffe in Frejus, stomach pains next day. 3 bottles last night, and real troubles this morning. Coincidence?

 

Today was a fast riding day, meaning we didn't set tomtom to avoid motorways. The reason, we were aiming to visit Oradour-sur-Glane, the scene of a Nazi massacre in July 1944 and wanted to spend as much time as possible there. Before that though, we had a couple of hundred metres to go to our fuel stop. Grizzly left there far from happy. He had put in €15.01 of fuel. We've all been there, trying to get it to the round figure. Giving the woman in the booth €15 and turning away, she called him back and made him pay that 1c!  There were some choice words coming from inside his helmet, that was for sure.

 

We were lucky with the weather again, the sun's warmth just coming through as we hit the road. After an initial foray on the back roads we came upon the main arterial road up to Limoges. 2 lanes and a 130kph (80mph) speed limit. We were happy enough to cruise at 70. Well, I was. Minding my own business in the nearside lane, Grizzly suddenly shot past and gradually disappeared into the distance. There was I watching my speed, as Grizzly had said his Honda would struggle to make the fuel stop after high speed and he was feckin' off over the horizon! When I could barely make out his tail light, I pulled out into the offside lane and gave the Sprint her head. At 80mph, it wasn't long before I had made up the ground and pulled in in front of him once more. This time he seemed content to sit behind.

 

Pulling off the motorway at Limoges, it wasn't long before Grizzly told me he didn't think he'd make the next fuel stop, so we had to look for a fuel station. It was ages before we came across one though, just 10 miles short of Oradour. The next fuel stop, was less than 1km from the memorial site, in the 'new' town itself.

 

Parked up at the village memorial site, Grizzly then tells me his low fuel warning light wasn't even on, so he could have made it to the scheduled stop! Eejit! No matter, we cut that out and will add another tomorrow. I have plenty of range on mine to not need these 150 mile stops anyway.

 

Dudley's bandana and a rusting relic of that terrible day,
Oradour-Sur-Glane

 

We spent a couple of hours probably, at the site. Even so, we were still early arriving at the hotel in Exideuil. The French roads really make it easier to cover the miles quicker than the route plan suggests. We parked up around the side and I went around front and pressed the bell. After a while, the landlady, Louise, from Gloucester, opened the door and beckoned me in. I explained Grizzly was around the side, so she said we could let him in the side door.

 

We let him in the side door and then for some inexplicable reason, I made a complete c*ck of myself. Louise looked to me, as she had opened the door, to be with child, so as she offered to help Grizzly with his bags, my mouth uttered the words, "I don't think you should be doing that in your condition". Yes, believe it people, it happened. As I went to shut the door, it occured to me that was not something I should have said and I commented to that effect. To my relief, she said she wasn't pregnant but had just had a baby 2 weeks previously. Phew, she wasn't just a chubber then! Needless to say Grizzly has given me major grief for opening my mouth in the first place, probably deserved. This was definitely a case of the brain not being engaged before the mouth opened. 

 

She showed us to the room and advised we may be able to get a meal at a bar up the road or if he wasn't open, at a camp site over the river. The bridge was a few hundred metres away, so all in all about a 15-20 minute walk. The bar was shut, so over the bridge we went, crossing the river Vienne. At the campsite we came across the 'restaurant'. We ordered some beers and then beef kebabs, for Grizzly, chicken for me, served with chips and salad. Gradually more people came to dine but none at all from the camp site, so I expect this was the only place for miles around, to get a meal out. Another beer and we made our way back along the river bank and back to the hotel.

 

La Vienne

We had a lot of clothes hanging on the shutters, drying off but the forecast was for thunder, so we have brought those in.

 

Tomorrow we are on our way to Saint Mars-d'outille, just south of Le Mans. Forecast is again for thunder, so the waterproofs may have to come out again.

 

Day 13 - Part 2, Villefranche

We left Millau and made our way to Villefranche. The hotel is right next door to a Hyper-U supermarket, our next fuel stop, though I expect the hotel was there first. There was nothing else in the car park when we arrived, so I guess we were the first there, some more guests arrived later though.

Our hotel, Villefranche

Unfortunately the hotel is some way outside the very pretty town, which is  shame, so we were restricted in what we could do as regards food. After the usual freshening up, we went across to the supermarket. Besides the supermarket itself, there was a small bar, a restaurant called Flunch and outside, a takeaway pizza shack. We popped in the bar for a beer, where Grizzly hit upon the idea of buying beer in the supermarket, along with some ice. As he keeps telling me, he's not just a pretty face!  We duly purchased a bag of ice and a six pack of Leffe Blonde. Grizzly then went back to the hotel to get the bottles and ice in the sink.

 

I tried to suss out the Flunch restaurant. It wasn't clear to me whether or not it was open or closed, so we decided on the pizza shack. We ordered up a third pizza of the tour and a beer to wash it down. I have to say, that out of the 3 pizzas we've had, the one in Italy has been the worst one! Dinner over it was back to the room and 3 bottles of chilled Leffe Blonde.

 

Tomorrow is another riding only day and we are heading for a place called Exideuil, on the banks of the river Vienne. Weather again promises to be fine, though there may be a thunderstorm late evening.

 

Looking forward to my little Irish alarm in the morning........NOT!

Day 13 - Nimes to Villefranche de Rouergue - Part 1

Another breakfast on the terrace and another scorching day promised. We had about 165 miles to go today, to reach our destination, Villefranche-de-Rouergue. 

 

The day once again provided us with a mixture of great roads with sweeping high speed bends and tight hairpins. We were heading into the Cevenne mountains, part of the Massive Central and another enjoyable ride was had. Besides the roads, there was some beautiful and spectacular scenery to go with it, none more so than when we made our way over the Millau Viaduct. The viaduct spans the river Tarn near the town of Millau. It is the tallest bridge in the world, based on the tallest mast's summit. The roadway itself is only 12th highest. That's a mere detail though, we've been on the tallest bridge!

 

Once across, there is a viewing area and visitor centre, so we pulled off and parked up. From the car park there is a pretty steep path up to the viewing area. Without the blazing sun I expect poor old Grizzly would have struggled, so he did well to get up there with only a couple of rests on the way. We both agreed though, the walk up was definitely worth it. The bridge is spectacular in itself but add to that the vistas looking down into the valley, then it's a must do. Photos taken, including ones for a Flemish lady on her iphone, we made our way back to the bikes and back out onto the motorway.

 

Millau Viaduct

It's a short drive to the peage booths. Unfortunately, there's no way of avoiding the toll once you have crossed the bridge, as from the viewing area, all roads lead to peage! It cost us €4.60 to go across. I'd thought it was €3.40, probably the low season cost, so got to the barrier to find the €4 I had in my jacket pocket not enough. It takes card though, so I whacked that in instead. Must be the quickest card reader ever too. In and out in the blink of an eye!

The Tarn Valley, looking towards Millau town

Day 12 - Frejus to Nimes

Day 12 began with Grizzly's alarm beeping, though he is usually pottering around before then. My day begins when my alarm goes off, 'we alright Woody', it goes. If only I could stop it going off at 6:45 every morning but it seems it only has one setting!

 

We had our brekkie on the terrace, before packing the bikes up and swinging out, once more, into the Frejus traffic. Our destination today was the historic Roman city of Nimes, some 149 miles north westish. More westish than north, if truth be told.

 

Suffering a bit of Neptune's revenge, those mussels getting there own back, I was feeling a tad delicate today. I took a couple of tablets to calm things and they seemed to do the trick. A bit of stomach cramp rather than anything more unpleasant.

 

The ride was uneventful. We have left the coast now and doesn't it make a difference. Even with the usual stop for fuel and a drinks break at a supermarket, we were in Nimes by 14:00. The drinks stop provided some amusement, as the auto doors were playing up and some old lady on the inside couldn't get out, whilst I was trying to explain, using hand gestures, to wave at the  infra red thingy. Eventually she got out though. The weather was scorching once more, so a nice cold bottle of water was more than welcome.
 

When we arrived at the hotel, there was a slight situation. I handed the young lady my booking.com confirmation. She looked at it, asked my name, then said our room was 31 but not ready just yet. We waited. After 10 minutes or so I was handed the key. Up the stairs we went, opened the door and were greeted  by, yes you guessed it, a double bed!

 

Back downstairs, a chap now inhabited the front desk. He looked in his file. Room 31, Mr Duguay? Nope, DeVall. He looked down his list. No DeVall. Another flick through his file. "Ah, DeVall. Neill?" Hoorah! "Double room". "Twins please".  A little bit of rearrangement and we were sorted, Room 4. Not sure how the girl thought Duguay was DeVall but there you go.

 

We freshened up and made our way into town. There was no town map available so I was relying on the fact I'd viewed the map months ago and my memory, to guide us to our target, the Roman amphitheatre. We found it no problem. Unfortunately, there was a concert inside, so we couldn't go in it but took a few photos around the outside, before settling down for a beer. Thirst quenched we had another wander about, across some newly laid tarmac, which we sussed was there for the Tour de France, due in town on 20th. There was also a Roman temple in the city somewhere, so we set out, down the back alleyways to try and find it. And find it we did. How good am I?

 



The Amphitheatre, Nimes



 

We took some photos of the outside but decided not to pay to go in, instead, our attention was drawn to a demonstration taking place, Palestinians marching against the Isrealis. The police led them on a march through the town and we went in search of dinner.

 

Maison Carrée

 We sat ourselves down and were approached by a charming blonde, though not young, waitress. A bit hands on, clearly taken by yours truly, whenever we asked her for beer her hand would go to my shoulder. I guess some of us just have it ;-) For dinner, Pat had a beef steak, chips and salad option, whilst I went for the kangaroo steak instead. It was very nice too and a first for me. We kept up our quota of 3 beers per night, settled l'addition and made our way back to the hotel.

 

Kangaroo and probably the only salad I ate all tour!

 The sun was still beating down and it had been a good day. After the frustrations of the slow Italian/French coastal traffic, it was a pleasure to be on some nice French roads, with a sensible speed limit. There's a little less concentration required when  there's less going on around you, so whilst sweeping through the long open bends my mind wandered and I realised, though I was having a great time, that I was also missing Cath back home. Still, won't be many days before we are re-united. 

 

Tomorrow we head north to Villefranche-de-Rouergue, with an interesting stop en route.

Day 11 - Pietra Ligure to Frejus.

Having come across the worst ever wet room, we had possibly the worst ever breakfast. OK, so we were early but a few hard crusty rolls and a small plate of ham, didn't really constitute a brekkie for us. Consequently we made a stop at a garage with a cafe attached later in the day and had a sandwich with our coffee. Getting there though was painfully slow. Once again we were using the coast road. Yes you get to see more, no I don't mean bikini clad girls, though there are plenty of them but you pay for it in the time it takes you to get anywhere.  This isn't helped by there being pedestrian crossings every 30-40 metres!

 

Besides the slow going, these roads also seem to be infested with scooters. Now I'm not a fan of scooters at home, so here, where they are multiplied a hundred fold, it is a complete nightmare. I never thought I would utter the words, 'he came out of nowhere' but I swear one second only Grizzly in my mirrors, next, scooter nearly taking my leg off on the wrong side of the white line! They will all overtake at every opportunity, with little regard for what is coming the other way, sweeping in at the last minute. This applies to men, boys, women and girls alike. They seem totally unaware of what could happen. Now I filter back home but nothing like this. Even women with young kids on the back do it. Crazy! Saying that, we have seen only one aftermath of an accident.

 

Our fuel stop came up and was actually quite amusing. It wasn't self service, so the guy wanted to fill my tank. OK, I let him but when it clicked off after about 20 seconds I had to take he nozzle off him and top it right up. He looked bemused. I went off to pay and Grizzly helped himself to the pump and began filling. The guy was even more out of sorts now and more so when Grizzly queried being charged €21, when he thought it was €12. The dozy bollox had misread it! On checking the mileage, I saw that I had done exactly1500 miles since we left my home. Whilst waiting for Grizzly, I took a look at a 1970 Rover 3500 V8 on the forecourt. UK plates still on it. It had seen better days and there was a big bag of cement on the front seat, so I guess it hasn't moved for a while. If anyone is interested in recovering it, let me know and I can give you the location.

 

Nice motah, in its day

 

We continued on our way, still on the coast, taking in some spectacular views and hairpin turns until we were presented with the magnificent sight, shortly after crossing into France, of Monte Carlo, across the bay. A quick glance revealed the harbour with all its yachts and the famous tunnel on the harbour side.

 

Monte Carlo or Bust is a famous film. The only thing bust here though, was my cardo headset, so I knew navigating a circuit of the F1 race circuit would be difficult, without Jayne to guide me. As suspected, it went pear shaped. Monaco mayhem! Cutting a long story short, we must've completed 4 laps of the circuit in all, some even in reverse! There was a guy taking pictures at the Mirabeau hairpin, so I made sure the knee came out slightly. Then through the tunnel, I played to the crowd by dropping down a gear and gassing it for a hundred metres or so. Eventually, after some re-planning on tomtom, we escaped the haven of the beautiful (read rich) people and set out along the road, through Nice/Cannes and Antibes, where more rich people live. A drink and comfort stop in Antibes, at a fuel station, was as close as we came to smelling the cash, before making the final dash over the hills and into Frejus.

 

Frejus port, another harbour for rich peoples' floating toys was about a 15 minute walk from the hotel. Once there we picked a restaurant, mainly for its Moules et Frites on the menu and settled down to some beers and listened to a live band close by. Fed, we took a walk around the harbour. It was busy with families and all manner of stalls, selling souvenirs and other gifts. We were looking for a bar though, not for nick-nacks. It seemed we were out of luck, lots of restaurants and ice cream parlours but no bar, until we got around the far side of the harbour/marina. It was empty. We ordered a couple of beers and sat out the front. Within minutes, we were joined by a couple, then a three, then another couple. How good for business are we? The second beer should have been on the house but sadly we had to pay.

 

Frejus Port

 

It was dark as we made our way back to the hotel. Luckily for us, as I'd forgotten the gate code, there was someone driving in, else we would have had to bunk over the wall! Well I could have ;-)

 

Tomorrow we head away from the coast and inland to Nimes.

  

Frejus Port, as night falls

Day 10 - Pisa to Pietra Ligure

Day 10 started, as they all do, with Grizzly shuffling about and packing his stuff. They do say oldies don't need so much sleep!

 

As we were camping, we had one of those foldy airer things. Sweaty jeans, jackets, etc, had been placed on it the night before though it fell over a couple of times! Without thinking, we left our stuff out. Result, all the stuff was damp from dew. DOH!

 

No brekkie option with camping, so we were away fairly early, with a plan to stop for something later on. As we pulled up to drop the key at the office a guy came over gesturing that people were sleeping and we should move on. He got the Grizzly 'Feck Off' stare. And we were off.

 

The day was gloriously sunny and hot already, so we wouldn't have to worry about waterproofs, that's for sure. First stop was our fuel stop. Getting there would be eventful though, solely due to another tomtom issue. At times I am really struggling without the sound and though we both have tomtom and are running the same routes, tomtom can take different routes for my unit, than it can for Grizzly's. And you can guess what happened.

 

At a roundabout, I went on and off the first exit, as instructed. Grizzly had to wait to get on the roundabout and his tomtom told him 2nd exit. Having taken a left, my next instruction, I waited. He never arrived. I sent him a text to say meet at fuel stop, just in case he stopped to call me and then continued on my way. Painfully slowly, along the seafront, I saw lots of lycra clad cyclists, lots of lycra clad joggers but no sign of Grizzly. Until, that was, as I pulled in to the fuel stop. I have to admit I was relieved to see his chubby red face waiting for me. I fuelled up and we went into the cafe to have a coffee and croissant.

 

Distance wise we didn't have that far to go but time wise it was still something like 5 hours. It soon became clear why. Almost every road in Italy is 50km per hour. Bad enough in the country but we were taking the coast road, where the limit can drop to 30km but even so, rarely gets above that anywhere, due to the sheer volume of traffic. It was a weekday but everyone seemed to be at the beach! All on holiday or taking sickies, because the weather was so fine? And because the weather was so fine, we were gagging for a stop. Finding one took a while but we pulled into a garage for a coffee (Grizzly) and an ice lolly, for me. All too soon though we were back on the road.

 

As we continued our coastal journey, it was remarkable the amount of scooters and cars for that matter, lining the roads. Are they on holiday already? Eventually though we came to Finale Ligure and promptly drove through it! Why I thought we were staying at Finale Ligure, I have no idea. The correct destination, Pietra Ligure was a further 6km down the road. Arriving in the town, of course, I misread the tomtom instructions and took the wrong turning, so there was a brief detour whilst we got it right. It didn't help that the road was one way either.

 

 

As  always seems to be the case, we were on the top floor, probably the only feckers on it. The lift was barely big enough for two people, let alone two big bikers with luggage. It's a manual job too, so outer door has to be opened then two tiny inner doors open inwards! As if that wasn't comic enough, the room small as it was, contained the tiniest wet room you will ever encounter. Small problem, the floor wasn't contoured, so after Grizzly had showered, there was water across the entire floor! There was a balcony though, bathed in sunshine, that let us dry our clothing, etc.

 

Spruced up we took a walk along the seafront and then into town. On the way , we had to wait for a train to cross the level crossing. No sooner had it gone through, than people were dodging under the barrier to walk across! Clearly they were certain nothing else was coming along! What an example to set your kids.

 

Pietra Ligure seafront

 

In the square we found a bar and ordered a couple of beers. When they came, they were accompanied by a plate of nibbles, some crisps and another chip shaped snack.  Another beer and the same result. That was enough that we didn't actually feel the need for a dinner, so we made our way back to the hotel, Grizzly via a coffee bar, where he had 3 coffees! Didn't stop him sleeping though, with the usual musical accompaniment.

 

Beer and nibbles

 

When we got back, it seemed the hotel had been invaded by a group of German students, making lots of noise and drinking lots of alcohol! Least we should have breakfast to ourselves then ;-)

 

Till tomorrow.