Barkeep, cold beer and wings please this is a long one. Better keep
my tab open for this, here's my credit card.
A while back, at the beginning of the month in fact I began writing up
a trip to Italy that was undertaken by some patrons of the vb&g. Well
stuff gets in the way, but finally here is the next installment. I
hope you can get to the end. Keep popping back to the bar to refresh
yourselves, I'm running up a tab.
I awoke from a much needed good nights sleep, went downstairs and
tucked into a pretty good breakfast of: cereal, bread & honey,
yoghurt, orange juice and coffee. By 09:30 I was on the road. The
sky was cloudy but I left the raingear in the saddlebags.
My priority was to get to Florence but I didn't think that I would be
doing it all today, I figured on stopping for the night but the more
miles I got under my belt the better. I left St. Omer heading south
on the N42. No problem finding the N42, just didn't get off at the
exit I wanted (D77). All was not lost as I realised the error of my
ways and stopped to consult the map. Unfortunately it wasn't much use
at a scale of 1:1,000,000!! So instead I followed my nose/instinct,
picked up D77 for about 6 miles and then took the A26 going in a
SE'ish direction. The A26 is a toll road and goes by the name of
L'autoroute Des Anglais, I'm guessing because it's the main route for
Brits headed to the south of France.
Not long into the ride I saw a lone bike and rider by the side of the
road and slammed on the brakes as I sailed past. I came to a stop and
walked back down the shoulder of the road. Turned out the guy was
just taking a break. We briefly chatted, turns out he was Belgian but
spoke a sight more English than I could French, Flemish or Walloon.
Having established that all was well and we were both having a great
day I took off again. Not long after this stop the clouds finally
gave up their struggle and dumped some rain on me, I pulled over,
suited up and was on my way again.
I was taking the A26 down to Troyes, a wonderful old walled town that
Mary and I visited in 2001. On the way I passed the familiar places
of Cambrai (a good place for an overnight stop) and Reims and the
Champagne region (a good place to stop period, and sample the regions
well known tipple) where the sun made a welcome return . From
Troyes I took the A5, the A31 and the A39 to just south of Dijon.
During the ride down the autoroutes every time I made a stop I would
send Mary a text to let her know how I was progressing. It was during
one of these stops that I noticed a group of bikes travelling
together that had British plates on. Initially I would be pulling
into a rest stop just as they were leaving. As the ride went on I
began to catch them up and took the chance to have a chat with them.
Turns out they were on their way to Lloret Del Mar in Spain, they had
six bikes between them, one of them a Harley. The rider was
telling me that he was getting ribbed by his japbike riding friends
about taking a Harley all the way to Spain, moaning that they would
always be waiting for him to catch up with them. For his part he
proceeded to tell me about the 'performance' mods he'd had done to his
scoot. The only one that was outwardly apparent was a hypercharger.
Aside from that, it had lots of chrome doodads adorning it, and a
monstrously tall sissy bar. I found out the alleged top speed of the
thing and was told that he didn't have a problem keeping up with the
pack. Good for him, stick it to 'em, I thought.
Funnily enough a couple of hours down the road, I noticed them again.
Only this time I was pulling away from the rest stop as they were
pulling in. So much for the claims of high speed cruising! All day I
had been plodding along at 70-80mph, occasionally creeping up to
85mph just to get away from someone. They may well have been blasting
down the autoroute at some incredible warp speed but it seemed that
they were totally disorganised as a group. I hadn't passed them on
the road, but while they were making one of their all too frequent
comfort breaks : )
By late afternoon I had reached junction 6 of the A39. Hoorah! Now
at last I could enjoy the French countryside and get across the border
into Switzerland. Before that though I had to make a stop at a
pharmacy in Parcey, I needed the one thing that I hadn't packed,
earplugs. Ideally I would have gotten them earlier, say yesterday,
but what with me being in a mad crazy rush I just didn't get around to
it. Trying to ask a French pharmacist for a pair of earplugs when my
schoolboy French was something of a distant memory was not easy. Even
my signing/miming wasn't getting very far and I don't think that my
audience (other customers) were very amused. Still eventually the
pharmacist twigged what I was after and with new earplugs inserted I
was on my way.
The countryside just got better and better. Beautiful hills, meadows
and woodland, this was more like it. Only slight fly in the ointment
was that I was getting a little low on fuel. I'd passed several gas
stations because they would only accept credit cards, but only French
credit cards. It's just one of those things we have to put up with
when we cross the Channel, our cards will very rarely if ever work at
French gas stations. Eventually I found a gas station with a lady
filling up her car. I managed to get her to let me use her credit
card in exchange for some cash and then I was off on my way again.
I crossed into Switzerland at Le Creux. I wasn't asked to stop, in
fact I can't remember, but there may not have been anyone at the
border posts to stop me! Not long after I arrived in Switzerland
about 6 miles in, I rounded a bend going uphill and there they were...
the Alps. They looked beautiful as they always do, snow capped
mountains off in the distance approximately 60 miles away as the crow
flies. It is a wonderful feeling to see them from afar, knowing that
sometime soon I was going to be riding amongst them. I headed for
Lausanne where I thought I might stop for the night, being careful to
avoid going on any motorways as you have to pay for them, but not like
on a conventional toll road like turnpike in the U.S. Oh no, in
Switzerland you have to pay for a whole years use up front!!!
By now it was well into the evening around 20:00 and I was in
Lausanne. I stopped at a few, maybe four, hotels to ask if they
had any rooms for the night, all of them said no. I was beginning to
think that it was because I looked a bit rough around the edges after
a days riding... until I got turned down at the fifth hotel. It was
located well out of town overlooking the lake. This time I asked if
there was anything going on in the area. I was told that it was the
Montreux Jazz Festival, arguably the biggest jazz festival in the
world. Straight away my mind shot back to 2001 when Mary and I
arrived in a town in the southwest of France. It was the same weekend
that a world wide religious organisation was holding it's gathering
that happened every 5 years and we had the very devil of a job finding
somewhere to crash for the night.
Back then we were giving some thought to riding over the Pyrenees to
Spain, we were that desperate for a place to stay. Luckily we found a
bar with accommodation and the wonderful Papasmurf look-alike patron.
This time, riding on my own, I figured that I might just keep riding
on to Florence which would mean going over the Alps in the dark or
going underneath them. I really didn't want to take either of the two
options, the Alps are something beautiful to behold and one should
take the opportunity to ride among them whenever it arises. Riding
over them in the dark, going underneath... what was I thinking.
A few miles outside of Montreux the traffic formed a queue (line) and
I filtered up the outside. Turns out the town was full as far as
access by car was concerned, this line was to get somewhere close and
then jump on a bus. While filtering I rode with and chatted to a
couple on their Harley's. They were locals and were not lacking in
the money department, very pleasant they were to.
Eventually I reached the centre of Montreux, absolutely hoards of
people, pretty much no vehicular traffic only the very occasional
scoot. I kind of wish I could have stayed and taken in a concert but
my priority was to get to Florence, I missed my wonderful Mary. I
continued on through the outskirts of Montreux, looking to my
right whenever I got the chance afforded me fantastic views of the sun
setting across Lake Geneva.
I left Montreux on route 9 and stopped in Villeneuve for fuel. I
figured that I'd better fill up just in case I did have to go
over/under the Alps into Italy. I kept looking out for places to stay
but didn't hold out much hope for anywhere this close to the festival
(4 miles away). I could still see evidence of cars parked on the side
of the road and bus services ferrying people in to Montreux. I
continued on 9 which was also called the Route du Simplon. The road
number stays the same as it bypasses Aigle but the name keeps
changing, I won't bore you with... rather I can't be bothered to list
them all here.
Anyways I continued on until I came to a town called Sainte-Maurice
where, surprise surprise, they didn't have any rooms either. Damn
this bleedin' jazz festival, I really didn't want to go to Italy
tonight. I got back on 9 and just under two miles later I noticed a
motel, the Motel Inter-Alp. It consisted of about 25 chalets and was
off to the left of the road down a short incline. I rolled into the
parking lot outside the owners office/home. I was very happy when
they told me that they had a room and even happier when they told me
that half a mile up the road was a rotisserie that might still be open
if I get a wriggle on. I dumped my T-bag in the room and headed off
up the road on Mr Bike. It was just before 22:00 and they were about
to close the kitchen up for the night but kindly said that they could
rustle up a green salad and steak frites. Food of course was very
welcome but they could tell that I needed more than mere food and I
ordered the first of two large cold beers.... mmmmm....beeeeeeeeeeeer
: )
I savoured every bite and every drop of the steak that was pink, juicy
and packed with flavour. The beer was pretty good too. I thanked my
hosts and rode back down to the motel. A quick wash and a text
message to my beloved and that was me done for the day. Thankfully I
would be riding over the Alps in daylight... tomorrow. (Not that I'll
be writing up the next day and posting tomorrow you understand,
tomorrow just means the next day in the trip. On current form it'll
probably take another week or two to write up.)
I do believe that I owe everyone a drink if you've got this far.
Cheers
--
Aitch PHİ#19 BS#209
'00 FXDWG
http://web.ukonline.co.uk/howie.ford
>Barkeep, cold beer and wings please this is a long one. Better keep
>my tab open for this, here's my credit card.
Thank you. I think I'll have a Leinenkugel Sunset Wheat
<http://www.leinie.com/sunset_wheat.html>
.
>A while back, at the beginning of the month in fact I began writing up
>a trip to Italy that was undertaken by some patrons of the vb&g. Well
>stuff gets in the way, but finally here is the next installment.
Yeehaw!!!
>I hope you can get to the end. Keep popping back to the bar to refresh
>yourselves, I'm running up a tab.
It won't be a problem, I'm sure. I check every day to see if
there's a new installment. Saw this one a couple of days ago and just
now had a chance to reply.
<snipped some of the trip south through France>
>The countryside just got better and better. Beautiful hills, meadows
>and woodland, this was more like it. Only slight fly in the ointment
>was that I was getting a little low on fuel. I'd passed several gas
>stations because they would only accept credit cards, but only French
>credit cards. It's just one of those things we have to put up with
>when we cross the Channel, our cards will very rarely if ever work at
>French gas stations.
Been there, frustratingly done that.
>Eventually I found a gas station with a lady
>filling up her car. I managed to get her to let me use her credit
>card in exchange for some cash and then I was off on my way again.
Done that too. One time, I think I scared a French woman off
when I approached her with a bunch of Euros in my hand. Maybe she
thought I wanted to buy her. :^)
>I crossed into Switzerland at Le Creux. I wasn't asked to stop, in
>fact I can't remember, but there may not have been anyone at the
>border posts to stop me!
I've been really near there before. My last trip down to
Switzerland before we left Germany ended in the little village of Le
Brassus, about 25km southwest of Le Creux. Since I rode right by Lac
Brenet and Lac De Joux on the way down, I must've passed within a
couple of km of Le Creux. Beautiful country there! I'll post a
picture (hopefully, it'll come out right) across the street of my
scooter and the hotel there.
> Not long after I arrived in Switzerland
>about 6 miles in, I rounded a bend going uphill and there they were...
>the Alps. They looked beautiful as they always do, snow capped
>mountains off in the distance approximately 60 miles away as the crow
>flies.
Ahhhh....you're making me pine for them.
>It is a wonderful feeling to see them from afar, knowing that
>sometime soon I was going to be riding amongst them.
That it is, my friend.
>I stopped at a few, maybe four, hotels to ask if they
>had any rooms for the night, all of them said no. I was beginning to
>think that it was because I looked a bit rough around the edges after
>a days riding... until I got turned down at the fifth hotel. It was
>located well out of town overlooking the lake. This time I asked if
>there was anything going on in the area. I was told that it was the
>Montreux Jazz Festival, arguably the biggest jazz festival in the
>world.
I've done the same thing, at the same place at the same exact
time of the year, back in the early '90s. We ended up sleeping in the
car in an autobahn rest stop which overlooked Montreux and Lac Leman.
IIRC, we got to watch a full moon set over the lake.
<snip>
>This time, riding on my own, I figured that I might just keep riding
>on to Florence which would mean going over the Alps in the dark or
>going underneath them. I really didn't want to take either of the two
>options, the Alps are something beautiful to behold and one should
>take the opportunity to ride among them whenever it arises. Riding
>over them in the dark, going underneath... what was I thinking.
Exactly! WTF were you thinking! :^)
<snip>
> Thankfully I
>would be riding over the Alps in daylight... tomorrow.
Yea!!!!
>(Not that I'll
>be writing up the next day and posting tomorrow you understand,
>tomorrow just means the next day in the trip. On current form it'll
>probably take another week or two to write up.)
I'll be patiently waiting, Aitch.
>I do believe that I owe everyone a drink if you've got this far.
Nahhh...you're drinks are on me for the rest of the evening for
continuing such a wonderful tale! Thanks!
--
Agua Noggin
BS #11
'99 FLSTC "the Pencil Glide" aka "the #2 Lead Sled"
'04 FLHTC "Bilbo Bagger", 'There & Back Again, A Harley's Tale....'
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>my tab open for this, here's my credit card.