Lord and Lady Snooty's Grand Tour Of Europe 2007

Her Ladyship and I recently did a 3200 mile Grand Tour around Europe in 16 days, we decided to do without the butler and the ladies in waiting and left the Rolls at home. We left Redditch for Dover at midday on Friday 22nd June and arrived back home at 16:00 on Sunday 8th July. We visited or travelled through France, Italy, Austria, Germany, Luxembourg and Belgium and stayed in 2* hotels, b&bs and my cousin's in Tuscany We took the K1200LT and had no problems whatsoever. Here is the story in pictures of our sojourn (if I have got this photo hosting lark right ). I have broken it down into a series of legs that link our overnight stops.

1. Dover to Chauvigny (Including first stop in Wimereux).
2. Chauvigny to Florac
3. Florac to Carcassonne
4. Carcassonne to St Maxime
5. St Maxime to Florence
6. Florence to Verona
7. Verona to Kirchenzarten
8. Kirchenzarten to Ypres
9. Ypres to home

I would like to say thanks to Shenzi for his help and advice on routes, places to see and places to stay whilst in Languedoc. Cheers Bob, shame we couldn't meet up, next time eh!

Ok on with the show and let's see if I can do the technology bit and link to these piccies.

1.Dover to Chauvigny
After a soggy start in Redditch we arrived in Dover in good time and in bright sunshine. Things were looking up! Here we go then, ready to load up on the 18:00 hrs Sea France ferry; note the flag of St George which sadly we lost a couple of days later.


After an easy crossing and the most efficient disembarkation I have ever had (we docked at 20:15 and were clear of the port by 20:22) we headed south on a glorious sunny evening. 25 miles later we pulled into Wimereux, a picturesque seaside town. We went for walk along the seafront where her ladyship git a but windswept before we went looking for a pub.


We stayed at the Hotel Paul and Virginie which of course is owned by a lady called Charlotte who plays Muse CDs in the bar - nice one! We dumped our gear and went in search of a cold beer. We were able to put the bike in the courtyard which was gated at night - sorted.


We found a pub in town which interestingly was showing motorbike drag racing from Santa Pod on the big screen. I indulged in a few beers while Alena went walkabout. Total mileage for the day was about 230.


Wimereux has some interesting architecture and colour schemes; here's one for the Aston Villa or West Ham fans.


The following morning we decided to forego brekkie for an early start. So after a 7am walk to the local boulangerie for a warm fresh baguette for lunch we set off through the sleepy town. The weather was looking good.


First planned stop was Monet's Garden just 140 miles away but it took over 3 hours to get there. It was scenic but slow and I was glad to get there for a rest and to get stuck into some brekkie while Alena toured the garden. I had my first and last cup of tea on French soil here - - coffee for me from now on. As I sat and relaxed in the sun hordes of Japanese and American tourists were arriving by the coachload and my peace was shattered by the increasing noisy babble.



Ok, so I had to put at least one pic in of the lily pond and the famous bridge. Here's one of about 20 that Alena took.



Arty close up of a yellow flower (no idea what it is - Alan Titchmarsh I am not!) anyone know what it is?


As Alena returned it started to rain so on went the waterproofs which stayed on for the rest of the day. We crossed the Seine and Alena asked me to stop to take a photo of this place - I've no idea where we were


This was stuck in the middle of a traffic island outside the driveway to some grand house. I guess it was the gatehouse to the estate before this wide road was laid. I wonder if anybody lives in it?


We took the N154, then the N10 at Chartres and made good progress. We took the A10 at Tours and at Chatellerault we picked up the D749 into Chauvigny. This was a lovely scenic road and after a day of showers we were blessed with another lovely sunny evening. This is a view of the Chauvigny rooftops.


Chauvigny is a typical medieval walled town that abound in France. After dinner we walked up the hill to the castle and old town and were rewarded with some sublime views of the grandeur of our surroundings,


Atmospheric shot of the castle walls as the sun lowers in the evening sky.


Sunset and a view of ghostly ramparts.


Restaurant in the old town square.


We got up early the next morning to take look around in the early sunshine.


City entrance.


We stayed at Hotel Lion D'Or on the main street and right next to a splendid looking church. They have a private car park behind the hotel which is locked at night.


One last shot over the town before we head back to the hotel and breakfast. Today we are heading for the Cevennes region via Rocamadour. Total mileage yesterday was 358.

Hope you had a really nice time, looks like you had the weather for it
At least you could stay in the bars while Alena took endless pictures of weeds in a ditch

Thanks for the pics

Next leg: Chauvigny to Florac

We left Chauvigny full of expectation; the weather was fine and I knew that the route we had ahead of us would take us into some of the best scenery and most spectacular natural splendour that France has to see. The route would take us down the N147 to Limoges and then the A20 before leaving for Rocamadour for our planned lunch stop. After that we would head east on the N140 through Figeac, Rodez, then the N88; after crossing the A75 we would pick up the D995 and then the D907 which would take us for miles and miles through the Tarn Gorge before picking up the N106 to go south to Florac and our next hotel. The mileage total for today was 328.

The first half of the journey was pretty uneventful but after coming off the A20 we began to be rewarded with scenery like this.


I've been to Rocamadour before so I knew what to expect; Alena had not so I was not at all surprised by her reaction when she had her first incredible sight of this amazing town built into a vertical cliff wall over a huge gorge.


Visitors vehicles are not allowed into the narrow streets of Rocamadour, for good reason - hordes of tourist cars would destroy the ambience and atmosphere of this wonderful place.


The orignal settlement here lived in the caves above the gorge; since then the inhabitants have moved into more salubrious accommodation. The difficulty and logistics of building vertically upwards on this cliff face is something extraordinary to consider.




There is also the fantastic surrounding scenery to view.


When you get the the gates of Rocamadour this is as far as you can go with your bike; the gate is just behind my head. Parking places are not exactly plentiful but fortunately as we arrived there were two French bikers in a space and they kindly allowed me to share it.


After leaving Rocamadour the camerawoman had a bit of a rest. We got off the N88 and went onto the D995 which was a scenic road but we were not prepared for the view that was ahead of us. We came round a bend to find the full majesty of the Tarn gorge stretched out below us. We had to stop before we started the descent just to take it all in. That bright green object you can see in the lower half of the pic is a picnic area.


No commentary needed; the view speaks for itself.



We descended a series of hairpins and joined the D907 Bis at the bottom of the gorge. We now followed the river through a twisting, narrow road surrounded on both sides by awesome cliff faces and accompanied by circling eagles. The sun was shining and this was absolute biking heaven and it was all ours for the next 40 miles. It is not a quick road, we were averaging about 35mph, but why would you want to rush to a hotel with all this to look at.






At one point the road splits into two carriageways; one of them is elevated, that's it above this wall.


Stay on the D907 for St Enimie.


We arrived in Florac, which nestles in the Tarn Valley, in the early evening still buzzing from the rugged beauty of the last 40 miles. Florac was recommended to me by Shenzi and I have to say it was right on the money. Thanks Bob - good call.
Like so many places in France it has a history and a chateau. At some point this one was converted into a prison, hence the rusting bars on the windows.






We stayed in the Adonis hotel who very kindly allowed us to put the bike in the garage in the rear. We walked into the town and had dinner in the main square. We sat in the evening sun in a fantastic frame of mind; it had been a very good day and even the late evening cloudburst could not spoil it for us. Tomorrow we were heading for Millau and then Carcassonne on a route that Shenzi had prepared for us that would take in a Knights Templar town and castle and a town that was laid to siege by Simon De Montfort during the Albingensian crusade against the Cathar religion. More history, more beautiful scenery to take in - time for a couple more beers.

Oh errr your Lordship, some nice pics there

Keep em commin

Nice report.. good pics, (made some notes for future..)

Next Leg: Florac to Millau then on to Carcassonne

After one night in Florac we were on the move again. Today's route was split into two sections; both routes were provided by Shenzi and as this is his backyard I saw no reason to deviate from them in any way. The first leg is Florac to Millau which takes the D907 south out of Florac and follows the Tarnon river for 11 miles before turning right onto the D996 to follow the Jonte river for 24 miles throught the Cevennes national park before turning onto another (but different) D907. This put us back into the Tarn Gorge but further south than where we had joined it the day before, we just followed the river all the way into Millau. This section was only 47 miles but it took us well over an hour due to the scenic nature of the ride and in places the road was very tight, narrow and with 100s of blind corners. There was not much traffic but we did find ourselves behind a few vehicles from time to time and overtaking opportunities were rare.

The second leg took us from Millau to Carcassone and was just 137 miles in length. Although the aggregate mileage for the two legs was only 184 miles Shenzi had warned us that this was an all day ride. This was due to the number of times we found ourselves stopping to take in the magnificence of the surroundings or taking long stops to investigate ancient Knights Templars towns such as La Couvertoirade. The road was also at times difficult, single track and in the higher sections we encountered very, very strong winds. We thought we had been spoiled the previous day with the stunning vistas of the Tarn Gorge, yet, incredibly today beat even that for spectacle; so much so that by the time we got to Millau my wife had filled three camera memory cards which is at least 300 photographs

On with the pics.

Once again we started off with blue skies and sunshine, we were feeling very good about life and immediately we were into clear roads, bends and scenery.





Numerous sections of the route were being repaired which slowed us down.



The roads were so empty of traffic it became de rigeur to hit the apexes even if they were on the wrong side




Once again, after a bright sunny start the clouds started to gather. At least this kept the temperatures to a pleasant level; I just hoped that the rain held off.




We made it into the heart of Millau and were able to park the bike opposite a cafe. Time for a break and to download all of the photos onto the laptop so Alena could start snapping away again.


After coffee and cake and with all photos deleted from the memory cards we were back on the road. I know there have been numerous photos of the Millau bridge on this site but I wonder if there have been any taken from the centre of the city whilst crossing the Tarn.


Ominous clouds gathering, would we make our destination without the intervention of rain - I had my doubts.


As we departed southwards and climbed the hills Alena turned and took this picture of the city spread out in the valley below. It was as shame that the light was so poor.


We were now enroute to Carcassone.

Millau onto Carcassone

We headed south on the N9, climbing the hills above Millau and very soon joined the A75; we fuelled up just before joining the autoroute. This stretch of A75 is like no other section of major highway I have ever experienced; it descends into a valley with the most breathtaking swooping and sweeping bend after bend. It was a totally exhilerating ride with a stupendous backdrop. We pulled off the A75 to find La Couvertoirade for lunch and then back onto the A75. We exited at Lodeve for the D35 West and then the D908 at Bedarieux and followed the Orb river. We turned onto the D907 (yet another ) at St Pons before turning right onto the D10 to Minerve. After that we wiggled our way across a series of D roads before getting the N113 into Carcassonne.

Our first view of the walls of La Couveroirade, built by the Knights Templars.


One of the ancient gateways.


This town was such an amazing place I could easily have posted 50 photographs. I just hope the few that I do post gives you some feel for the place. It was like stepping back in time and it was hard to believe that people still live and work here.


Alena sitting on the steps leading to the church, look at the wear on them and try to imagine how many Knights Templars walked up them clad in armour to recieve a blessing before heading out for a bit of argy bargy





Ramparts and the cemetery; note the headstones; must be a few Knights buried here.


This might be a medieval town but they still like to watch a bit of telly


There are many artisan shops here selling all sorts of crafts in original stone built buildings.


One of the many information boards.


One last shot of the external walls.


A picture of an aerial picture.


If you are ever in this region then you must make time to visit this place; it is a fantastic place to spend an hour or so and to have a picnic lunch.

What a scenic journey and interesting read LS. Well done so far sir. Pray continue.

Millau to Carcassonne (cont)

After leaving La Couvertoirade we got back onto the A75 for some more of this....I've never had so much fun on a motorway in my life although the weather was still gloomy.


Our next stop will be Minerve, so we came off the A75 at Lodeve and took the D35 in a west/sou' westerly direction. Don't look down...!


As we got further west the sun started to shine but the wind increased and was gusting very strongly as we climbed up to Minerve. We arrived at the gorge on the opposite side of Minerve; I stopped to allow Alena off so I could park the bike, as I llifted my left leg to put the prop stand down an enormous gust caught the bike and nearly toppled the whole shooting match over. I decided to go round the next bend which I hoped would be sheltered from these very hefty gusts. I found this layby about 150 metres further on. As the fairing on the LT is a bit like a sail I decided to stay with the bike whilst Alena went exploring. That is me in the distance in the yellow shirt.

This was the view over the layby wall; this is a dry river bed and you can see where the water has hewn and gashed and eroded into the soft limestone rock.


Minerve was a major centre for the Cathar religion. As a fortified town it attracted many Cathar refugees fleeing the crusading troops led by Simon De Montfort; especially when they heard the news of the brutal massacre of 6000 men, women and children by the Catholic army during the sack of Beziers, where, Arnaud Amaury the Pope's legate is famously quoted as saying "Slay them all, God will recognise his people". Minerve was pounded and after a seven week siege Viscount William of Minerve surrendered. His life and those of his soldiers was spared but the heretics had to chose between their faith or burning at the stake. One hundred and forty refused to deny their beliefs and threw themselves unaided onto the flames of the stake on July 22nd 1210, an astonishing sacrifice. Here are some views of Minerve; it is said that the flames still seem to cast their sad glow when a setting July sun lingers on the roofs of the village houses.







Back on the road; our next stop would be Carcassonne and the hotel.


A sight I'm sure many of you are familiar with; and for those who have never been here if you have watched Robin Hood Prince of Thieves you have at least seen it on the big screen as this is where the castle scenes were shot.


We booked into a Fast Hotel on west of the newer city; a typical chain on a business estate but it had the advantage of a locked car park. We ate in the hotel bar that night and got chatting to a couple of Brit bikers who were staying there for the week and using it as a base to explore the region. Today they had been to Andorra. Tomorrow we planned to spend the day in Carcassonne.

We arrived at the gates about 10am; just as it started to rain...great We kept our biking jackets on and started doing the touristy thing. After an hour the rain stopped and the sun came out....so back to the bike to dump the jackets. Fortunately the bike was parked just outside the main gate in the moto parking.
Some views of the city.


The Denis Healey of the owl world, anybody know what sort of owl it is?


Inside the castle itself; medieval frescos.

Some street entertainment.

In the early evening we sat down for dinner and had the local dish "cassoulet"; a sort of bean stew with an assortment of meat such as duck and sausage. Very nice it was too. As you can see we sat outside under a tree and a minute before I took this pic a bird bombed Alena! You can see the stain on the upper left of her t-shirt; despite me telling her it was good luck she was not amused, especially as I could not stop sniggering. By the colour of the stain I would say the bird had recently feasted well on blackcurrents

This is where you park the bike and as you can see the main gate is just over the road. Yet again our day ended in glorious sunshine, it seemed to be the pattern of the holiday so far. We headed back to the hotel for a few beers and to prepare for an early start for St Maxime in Provence in the morning.

This is The Chateau d'Anet in Eure et Loire


Before Diane de Poitiers undertook the building of the present château, there were two previous châteaux on the site. A year before Henri became King, Diane had thought of building a more congenial and more imposing residence than the old Gothic manor of Brézé, which she had inherited from her husband. She hired an architect from Lyon to draw up the plans: Philibert de l'Orme then thirty-six years old and already well known.

De l'Orme designed a structure based on the classic revival, but with the advantage of all the contemporary comforts. This part of the château was an extension towards the west of the old manor house which Diane had wished to preserve. In 1549-50 the right wing and chapel were completed; in 1551 the left wing; thereafter the portal was erected bearing the final date: 1552.

In the main building were the apartments for Diane and those for the king, as well as reception halls; other apartments were placed in the left wing. The right wing consisted solely of a "salle des fêtes" called the "Galerie de Diane". Behind each wing were lateral courts, the one on the right irregular in shape with on one side the manor of Brézé, on the other toward the road to Oulins a monumental portal, the "Porte de Charles le Mauvais". In the center was a fountain - the Nymph of Anet.
In its center was another fountain with the famous sculpture of Diane reclining on a stag, attributed to Jean Goujon and now preserved in the Louvre. The one at Anet is a replica.

King Henri was so taken by famous chest that he had molds made of them to make 24Carat drinking goblets! now there is a thought for your glassware M'Lud !!

Carcassone to St Maxime

We left Carcassonne at 8.30am for what should be a fairly easy 298 miles to St Maxime on the French Riviera just a few miles east of St Tropez. The planned route was to get onto the A61/A9 as far as Beziers and then drop south onto the N112 to go below Agde and take what is a very thin strip of land, almost a causeway, eventually stopping at Aigues Mortes for lunch. After that we crossed the top of the Camargue, found the A8 and then exited onto the D25 which is a great, twisty, scenic road that crosses some small mountains.

The sky was clear blue with just a few white clouds, it was about 20C and climbing and for the first time since arriving in France we felt confident that the waterproofs would remain in the topcase all day. Onto the A61 and a last look back at the impressive facade of the Carcassonne citadel, once seen never forgotten.

After we came off the autoroute this is the view from the N112 as we traversed the causeway, glorious sunshine sparkling on the azure Mediterranean.

In some places it looks as if they farm the sea salt, I've seen this type of layout before in Brittany.

After a very pleasant coastal ride we arrived at Aigues Mortes and parked the bike by the impressive gateway and ramparts. Aigues Mortes means Dead Waters. It has an interesting history. Located in the heart of the marshy Camargue region on France's Mediterranean coast, Aigues-Mortes is a completely walled town that has changed little in appearance since its glory in the Middle Ages. The town was founded by Louis IX in 1241. Before that date, all of the ports on the south coast of present-day France were owned by the king of Aragon, the Germanic emperor, and the Pope. With no access to the sea, the French did not share in the lucrative Mediterranean trade, nor were they guaranteed free departure for the crusades. This situation changed when Louis obtained the flatland of ponds and marshes from an order of monks, whose Psalmody Abbey on the site dated from the fifth century. Aigues-Mortes was an immediate success. Settlers were attracted by Louis's offer of exemption from most taxes. With the construction of his opening to the sea now underway, Saint Louis departed in 1248 for a crusade to Egypt. This seventh crusade was largely organized by Louis, and its members were mostly French. The new port quickly became important in maritime trade and a source of revenue for its proprietor. The town's eclipse began with the rise of Marseille. It was completed as the basin, which fronted on the sea, was gradually filled by silt deposited by the Rhône River. It never recovered and is now about five miles from the sea. The medieval city is almost totally intact since those days and is a joy to behold.

Trees in full blossom

Saint Louis the founder of Aigues Mortes

No vehicles allowed

Time to go, the view down the lenght of the walls

We eventually found our hotel in the maze of narrow streets in St Maxime and we were pleasantly surprised to find we had a balcony and a sea view. I walked downstairs in the morning looking for breakfast and the owner very kindly brought iit upstairs so we could eat Al Fresco in the sunshine. What a great start to the day.

Our plan for today was to visit the Verdon Gorge and make a complete day of it. I've visited the gorge on two previous occasions but Alena had never seen it. Knowing how much she loved the Tarn Gorge I was looking forward to her reaction when she sees the magnificent grandiosity of the Verdon Gorge for the first time. The ride up to the gorge has plenty of breathtaking views of its own.



And then all of a sudden there it is!!!









You follow the gorge for about 50 or more kilometers, you find yourself stopping every few minutes at every viewing point in an effort to drink in all of its grandeur and majesty.

Lunch, all bought fresh from the market in St Maxime before we left....slurp.

You don't find many restaurants with a view like this!

Some people prefer to go for the big burn.

Another stop.

The road narrows and is very twisty, care is needed.


The river enters Lac St Croix just beyond those peaks.

We met this pair who were touring on a naked 600, I don't recall the bike. They had an interesting method of loading the bike and getting under way. She was loaded up with all of the gear and with a struggle he helped her onto the bike whist it was on the centre stand. He then put on a rucksack back to front, got onto the bike and after starting the bike he rocked it back and forth to drop it off the stand. I didn't envy his girlfriend at all, the things you do for love eh!

Lac St Croix in the background.


When you get to the lake it is time to turn south and head back for the coast; I decided to take Alena into St Tropez just to say she'd been there. My advice is don't bother; the traffic was a total stuff up and when you arrive it is a big disappointment. The ride back to St Maxime along the coast road was a nightmare, queues of traffic and the only way to make progress is to filter on the outside with kamikaze scooters and mopeds buzzing around you.
We got back to St Maxime and had a walk around, it is quite a pretty town.



We stayed in St Maxime for two nights; the first night we ate out and had a very mediocre meal which cost €60 for a set menu. We found that in general everything is more expensive on the Riviera coast but not better. With the constant traffic snarl ups I would not recommend staying on the coast at all and next time I visit this area I would chose to move inland to a small town or village in the country.
For our second night we ate on our balcony and dined on the remainder of the fresh fruit, veg, cheese, bread, ham and olives we had bought that day; and of course a jumbo sized bottle of Kronenbourg!

We were treated to a lovely pink sky in the evening.

We went for an evening walk in the town for one last look before heading off in the morning.

Some street entertainment.

This lovely old church was just at the back of our hotel.

And so to bed, we were aiming for another early start as tomorrow we head for Tuscany, mad Italian drivers and 30 plus degrees of heat.

Excellent pic's and great log... thanks for posting....

St Maxime to Tuscany

Sorry for the delay in posting the next leg; it's been a busy week or so.

The GPS route told me we had 348 miles to cover and I knew we were heading for temperatures in the 30s; so we decided to go for an early start. Our route would take in the N98 coast road before heading inland onto the D8 to Frejus and then the N7 to Cannes; this promised to be scenic and hopefully would be an enjoyable start to the day before hitting the autoroute at Cannes for the vast majority of the journey.

Our next stopover would be in Tuscany; I have a cousin, Sue, who married a second generation Italian, Franco, in the UK and 14 years ago they decided to move to Italy. They struggled with the move at first and interestingly it was Franco who missed the UK most; he still considers himself to be English first and foremost. Sue, on the other hand, loved it immediately and settled in easier. They have a converted farmhouse south of Florence in the Tuscan hills and this would be the first time I had ever taken up their generous offer of staying with them. Franco is a toolmaker so they are not rich by any means and due to the influx of the chattering classes into Chiantishire such as the Bliars housing is expensive. However they managed to purchase an old farmhouse and have worked hard in restoring it and making it habitable. We were planning a 4/5 night stopover which we were looking forward to as it would give us chance to relax. Sue had told me that the road to their farmhouse was "a bit rough" which as it turned out was a bit of an understatement. It turned out to be a half mile of gravel, going up a hill with some 90 degree turns and horrible cambers; no problem if I was on the GS but a different proposition on a fully loaded lardy barge of an LT and my miniscule offroad talent I told Alena to walk up the hill as I didn't want her on the bike if it all went pear shaped. In 30 plus degrees of heat I crunched and slithered my way up the hill and with the exception of one or two moments managed to arrive without falling off. After parking the bike I decided that the next time I used that road would be the day we left....I'd got up safely once but didn't want to push my luck. I got off the bike hot, sweaty and with my heart beating frantically; Sue immediately served up a large cold one...bless her I really needed it.

As we headed off we saw this home and I did wonder if Duchess and the girls were in town?

The early morning coast road along the French Riviera proved to be cool and very pleasant; a stark contrast to normality as between 9am to midnight it is a nightmare.

The sun was still quite low and this was proving to be a really enjoyable start to the day.

The Med was calm and all was serene with the world.

As we turned inland we headed into familiar Provence scenery.


We took some smaller backroads.

Early morning sun streaming over the top of the hills.



We had started off with clear skies but as we headed East clouds started to gather over higher ground.

The A8/A10/A12/A11 autoroutes go through several hill ranges and as a consequence the journey requires you to go through 100's of tunnels, after the initial novelty wears off it all gets a bit tedious and some of the longer ones are hot and the air is poor.

The route does cling to the coast for several miles, I think that is a view back to Monte Carlo.

The clouds got darker and heavier, I was convinced we would need waterproofs before the day was out.

Glaciers on the mountains.


We did not need the waterproofs - fortunately; and after hitting congestion on the A1 around Florence due to roadworks we finally came off the autostrada - thankfully. I did notice that when in Italy the bikers use the hard shoulder when traffic is congested, so when in Rome as they say I followed suit. This is the view over the hills from my cousins's place.

the next day we headed into Florence on the train; we were advised to go in early (get there for 8.30ish) and leave around midday. This avoids the worst of the crowds and by midday the city heat is stifling. This proved to be excellent advice.
There are just so many things to photograph in Florence it is impossible to post pictures of everything; here is a sample of some of the sights.



Medieval frescos

I think this is called the Gates of Heaven on the Duomo



David - this is a copy; I have to say that all the photographs in the world do not do justice to this magnificent piece of work; I am not an arty person in any way but this takes your breath away. How did he create this from a 12 foot high solid block of marble? - unbelievable. It was worth the trip alone just to see this.

There is a street lined with statues of famous Italians spanning the centuries - here is Leonardo Da Vinci.

Ponte Vecchio and the River Arno

Sue and Franco

Something for the ladies; lots of expensive goodies in the designer shops.



Tuscany is known for its wild boar which are hunted; apparently they taste very good and the boar is the regional symbol. It is considered good luck to rub his snout which is why it very shiny, Alena seems to be doing a good job here.

Street artists reproducing famous works of art from the Renaissance period. The paved areas seem to be there especially for this purpose as they are smooth and laid out in a grid. Because we arrived early they had only just started so sadly I don't have a picture of the finished article.

Barbie back at the farmhouse - Italian T-bone steaks - yum!.

Up in the cooler hills there is the Monestary Vallambrosa dating back to the 15th Century.

It really is a lovely drive up the mountains to the monestary and escapes the stifling 30C plus temperatures.


We went to the market in Figlini; this stall was selling cheese; he cut great big chunks of parmesan of a whole cheese. We bought some parmesan and another type and he threw in some pasta and a packet of mozzarella for nothing. Top man and the parmesan was to die for; when fresh it is softer and creamy and tastes ten times better than the stuff we get in the UK supermarkets. The Italians are obsessed with their food and use specialist shops rather than buy it all in a supermarket. If they want meat they go to a butchers and so on; the way I remember my mum used to shop before Tesco took over every town in the country.

Alena and I went for walk around the fields and hills close to the farmhouse and came across this dwelling at the end a a lane which was marked private; it all seemed a bit spooky and I wondered who had lived here and what they did for a living and what caused them to leave.

As you can see the weather was hot and Alena decided to wear minimal clothing. During our walk we disturbed a deer who bolted out of the brush just ahead of us and Alena nearly stepped on a 5ft snake - (in reality it was probably a couple of feet but we know how ladies struggle with dimensions).


A little further on at the top of the farmhouse drive was this large place; it is occupied and looking at it I would say that they have a lot of work on their hands to restore it to its former glory.

Finally, two views of the hills from Sue and Franco's farmhouse - how fantastic to wake up to this every morning.



During our stay we also visited San Gimignano which is famous for its towers; it is an amazing place which is worth a separate posting so take a look in a day or so.

Great trip report Snoots, Italy is a treat isn't it?

Looking forward to your take on San Gimignano, we enjoyed a couple of nights there when touring down to a family wedding outside Ancona a few years back. Opera being performed in a square in the evening to torchlight, comfy hotel, great visit to a fascinating and historic place.

Enjoy yourselves...
Charlie

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Excellent Report + Pics

Makes me want to go...

Cheers

Yogi

San Gimignano - city of towers

One of the places we definitely wanted to visit was San Gimignano - cue quick history lesson.

San Gimignano was founded as a small village in the third century BC by the Etruscans. Its historical records begin in the tenth century AD, when it adopted the name of the bishop, Saint Geminianus, who had defended it from Attila's Huns.

In Italian medieval walled towns, rich families competed in the erection of high towers, which served as lodgings, fortresses, and prestige symbols. While in other cities, such as Bologna or Florence, most or all of their towers have been brought down due to wars, catastrophes, or urban renewal, San Gimignano has managed to conserve thirteen towers of varying height which have become its international symbol. At one point there were 72 towers.

Once again we decided to go for an early start so we rose at 6am and were on our way for the 90 minute drive through the winding mountain roads at 7am. The reasons for our early start were to make sure of a parking space, avoid the crowds of tourists that get bussed in and to avoid the heat of the day.

We arrived just as the shops were getting prepared for the day, we entered the old city via this gateway.

There are several examples of classical Romanesque architecture.

These are the main attraction, towers in the early morning haze.

The streets are deliberately made narrow as this affords shade and coolness from the summer heat.

Passageways and archways abound.

The main square and town well, deserted at this time of the day.

One of the towers.

Cafes and shops but no tourists yet.

The well and towers off the main square.

I noticed lots of holes in the structures that looked big enough to take large beams of wood. I wondered if at some point there were maybe balconies or wooden walkways built onto the outside.

Vaulted ceiling.

If you make your way to the highest point of the town you can climb the old city walls and enjoy this breathtaking view.




We found ourselves in this garden and sat in the shade for a few minutes. We heard the sound of a harp and there was this lady playing and singing medieval madrigals; as we were the only one's in the garden we felt very priviliged, almost as it if was for our benefit alone. She certainly helped create a special atmosphere.


As well as towers the city has other lovely architecture to view.

We found this small courtyard with some ancient, well preserved and colourful frescos.




This one has a 3D effect it is so good.



By mid-morning the local Dons came out to people watch, drink coffee, chew the fat and leer at the young talent - what a life.

By 10.30'ish the coach parties are starting to arrive and our peace and solitude is shattered, it is also now approaching 30C - time to make a move soon.


We found this rather macabre display on the entrance and walls of a museum.

There were some very elegant emporia selling some expensive looking souvenirs, you wouldn't want to have an accident in here.

Finally an aerial shot of the city, not mine, I blagged it off an internet site, poor quality but it gives you a great view of the whole place.


As the crowds and the heat built up we left about midday and got back to the farmhouse for a much needed siesta, a routine I must say I was beginning to enjoy.

Onwards to Verona

After spending four (or was it five?) nights at my cousin's and having a welcome break from the bike it was time to continue our journey. We had a fantastic time and a major bonus was meeting Sue's daughter Lucia who I had never met before even though she is 34. She was born in 1973, the year I joined the Royal Navy and due to other circumstances and Sue, Franco and Lucia leaving the UK to come to Italy our paths had never crossed. Lucia is now a married lady and has two little boys, Paul and Jonathen - my cousins third removed - and it was fantastic to meet distant members or my extended family. It was sad saying goodbye to them all but we will look forward to sending them cards at Christmas and some gifts for the boys.

Our next stop was Verona; we had arranged to meet some friends - Malcolm and Jackie there, and we planned to watch Aida which was showing as part of the world famous Verona opera season at the Roman ampitheatre. They left the UK a week after us and we agreed to meet in the main square by the ampitheatre on the afternoon of July 4th. They were coming in from France whereas we had an easy 175 mile ride north. Once again we decided to make it an early start and hoped to be at our b&b by lunchtime - avoiding the worst heat of the day. All I had to do was to get down the half mile gravel track to the main road without dropping the beast. I told Alena to walk and set off down the hill in first gear and covered the rear brake and without drama I made it to tarmac. Having found that the Italian minor roads tended to be poorly surfaced and mostly used by members of the "Wish I was Shumacher" club we decided to take the A1 and A22 autostradas and made Verona in good time.

The GPS found the address for our b&b no problem but we were a bit confused because we were at a fashionable and upmarket apartment block. The block was fenced off at the roadside with an electronic gate with a list of apartment numbers and names. We had the name of the b&b but looking at the list of names none of them matched - bugger! what to do. Fortunately after a couple of minutes a young lady came to the gate to enter and we asked her if she new of the b&b - what a stroke of luck, not only did she speak English but she knew the name of the lady who ran the b&b and she rang the bell for us. The gate opened and after a short walk to the front of the apartment block there was another electronic entrance which the young lady took us through. She told us to go to floor four so we pressed the lift button and waited; the lift arrived and out stepped this tiny, elegant lady aged about 65 who immediately started talking in Italian and welcoming us as if we were long lost family. Our landlady had found us! Her name was Maria and she didn't speak a word of English and neither Alena or I spoke any Italian. We were here for 2 nights so this could get interesting. After showing us our room she then started conversing with us and I picked up the words "moto" and "garaga", I realised that she was insisting I put the bike in her garage rather than leave it on the roadside. So Maria and I went downstairs and I drove the bike through another electronic gate to an underground garage. Maria opened hers up and it was occupied by a car - the garage was not exactly spacious and she insisted I squeeze the LT in which was going to be a feat. Eventually after Maria moved her car tight over to the wall and several attempts I managed to reverse the lardy barge into the space at an angle which just cleared the wall and her car. I had to leave it on the sidestand and it was just leaning against her car but she was not concerned although I felt a bit uneasy in case her hospitality resulted in a mark or dent in her paintwork.

Back upstairs we found ourselves in a well appointed apartment festooned with art, photographs and mementos of Maria's life and a music collection that consisted of much opera and classical music. Clearly our host was a lady of taste and sophisitication and to complete the image she smoked long thin cigarettes using a cigarette holder that I have only ever seen in 1940s black and white movies. Even with the language barrier we managed to ascertain that much of the art was her son's who had attended art college. She lived alone and I wondered if her main reason for doing b&b was to have some occasional company rather than a need for the money. Sadly, for some reason, Alena did not take a photograph of this delightful lady.

After showering and resting a little I sent a text to Malc and Jackie to ascertain there whereabouts. They had arrived at the campsite to the north of Verona (we were on the west side). After getting some walking directions and a tourist map from Maria (and a promise that it was only a 15-20 minute walk) we set off in sunshine with Alena opting for halter top t-shirt. After 10 minutes walk dark clouds appeared and it started to rain - HEAVILY - it was a typical Summer thunderstorm and the rain was bouncing 6 inches off the pavements. We ducked into a cafe, ordered coffee and waited for the deluge to subside. After about half an hour the rain had stopped and the sun came out - we continued our walk and found the ampitheatre but the realistic time taken was more like 25-30 minutes without unscheduled stops for rain! We found Malc and Jackie and started the sightseeing. I'll show the pics later but inevitably the ampitheatre was the main focus plus of course Juliet's house and balcony from the Shakespeare play.

After a hard afternoon and evening sightseeing, drinking and eating we parted and we set off for our long walk back and of course Alena was now cold and regretting her choice of clothing which seemed a good idea in the afternoon sunshine - wimmin eh! We had decided to go for a day out to Lake Garda the following day and Malc agreed to be at our place by 10am the following morning.

On with the pics, first of all a few of my cousins - who knows when we will meet again.

Big cousin Sue with Franco in Florence

Paul and Jonathen playing on the LT

Sue with daughter Lucia - my newly found second cousin

Lucia's husband Francesco

After an uneventful trip to Verona we met up with Jackie and Malc and headed for the East shore of Lake Garda.

Sometimes the road is dwarfed by towering cliffs

It was a beautiful morning, clear blue sky and a beautiful placid lake

As we headed north the mountain range that dominates the west shore came into view.

After an hour of riding we decided to pull in for a coffee and photo stop. Torri del Benaco happened to be the next town and a planned 30 minute stop turned into a 2-3 hour stop. The place is fantastic, it is quet, idyllic, it has a safe beach for swimming, flowers adorn the buildings and it has quaint streets with fascinating shops. If I ever visit Lake Garda again then this is the place I will stop at and I recommend this place to anyone else comtemplating coming to this area. The photos will speak for themselves.

As you come off the main road you see the castle ahead, this is the motorbike parking area which we didn't find until we had parked the bikes further back in the car parking areas. We only found these as we wandered towards the town - DOH!

Clear blue calm water right on the roadside and pleasure craft cruising the lake.

Alena posing, soon she would be in her undies swimming in the lake - sorry lads no pics available.

After a coouple of minutes walk we found ourselves at the dreamy little harbour - Jackie, Malc and I lined up for the touristy shot.

The harbour with some small craft moored up - lovely scene.

A big feature of Torri del Benaco was the houses festooned with colourful and aromatic climbing plants






Even the ducks go surfing here

Some of the stones in the building walls had fossils in them - I believe that this is an ammonite

Bougainvillea??


A happy Alena - she has a cappucino and cake

Round the corner we found this bay


In the afternoon ominous clouds started to appear over the mountains on the west side of the lake


In the afternoon we decided to continue with the ride, Malc set his Zumo to take us into the mountains to the right of the lake and told it to take the minor roads.
The Zumo took his word for it and we found ourselves going up a very narrow road with sharp gradients, lots of gravel and very little room to maneouvre. The LT was proving to be a handful and I was having serious doubts about where this was leading. Even Malc on his much lighter R1100RS was struggling - we stopped for a committee meeting!

We had stopped by some roadworks which made matters worse - we decided that discretion was the better part of valour and turned the bikes round. Alena took this as an opportunity to pose in her new pink Frank Thomas gloves we purchased before we left the UK - I reckon she looks ready to do the washing up in her marigolds

The ride back down to the main road did give us some nice high views of the lake - I hadn't dare take my eyes off the road on the way up so I had missed these previously


We headed back through Torri Del Benaco - this is the beach Alena swam from.

We explored some narrow alleyways in TDB before finding a country road out.



We had an excellent day and we found a jewel in Torri del Benaco and strongly recommend this place to anybody who is looking for somewhere to stay in this area. I would chose this town over Verona.

Next installment will be the sightseeing in Verona and our night at the opera before heading across the Alps into Austria and then the Black Forest.

A Night at the Opera

One of the main reasons for visiting Verona was to partake in the famous opera season which takes place in the Roman ampiitheatre. I am by no means an opera buff, I have been to a couple before and I have to say I did enjoy the experience, there's nothing quite like the sound of a full orchestra to stir the senses. For our second and last night in Verona they were performing Aida and we were going! Alena is very much a classical music fan and I was sure that this would be an evening that she would enjoy.

We walked into Verona from our b&b and after a few minutes we were at the old city walls, in the days of the old city states this gateway would have strictly controlled entry and exit now it stands as a monument to those times. In those days most travellers would have been on horseback or on horse drawn carriages - totally indadequate for todays' traffic. So, to the right you can see where the old city wall has been demolished for the development of a four lane highway.

There were other enjoyable sites to see on our sunlit evening walk into the city.

We eventually make the river, the bridge in the background is part of a castle complex and would also have strictly controlled entry and exit to the city.

We made it to the main square and the ampitheatre looked resplendant in early evening sunlight.


We made the obligatory visit to Juliet's balcony - "O Romeo wherefore art though?"

We had a good long walk around the city which has lots more to see other than the ampitheatre.

Clock tower

Beautiful piazzas.


Interesting buildings.



Lots of expensive shops for Alena to drool at, thankfully we had no room in the panniers for excess luggage


We headed back to the main square to enter the ampitheatre and to grab some seats. The square was getting very crowded with expectant opera goers and there were some elegantly attired mounted police keeping an eye on things. Typical of Italy - even the police are dressed like fashionistas?

You are allowed to take your own food and drink into the opera; about 5 minutes before we were going in Malcolm discovered that you are not allowed to take glass bottles in so I had to decant my tasty bottle of red into a plastic water bottle. After all this trouble my bag wasn't checked anyway. We had bought the cheap tickets which means you have no reserved seats; you have paid to sit in a large specified area on the original marble/stone seats that the Roman citizens would have sat on many centuries ago. Find a space and claim your ground - I would advice hiring a cushion to keep the Farmer Giles from complaining too much

The arena slowly fills up.

As the arena fills and the lights come on it becomes a spectacular scene. We took a lot of photos of the opera itself but none were really good enough to show.

The ampitheatre looks fantastic in the floodlights.

The opera started at 21:30 and was incredible, at one point there must have been over 200 people on the stage. Aida is a huge production and must be an enourmous production challenge. The singing was fantastic, there were real fires blazing, battle scenes and huge drama. It is one of the longest operas though and three hours later it was still ongoing and we were knackered. Alena was falling asleep and we had an early start in the morning as we had a 400 mile journey over the Alps into Bavaria to complete. So we left at 00:30 for our walk home. We had thoroughly enjoyed our two days in Verona and had achieved an ambition to see an opera in the magnificent setting of the ampitheatre and had sat where ancient Romans had also sat whilst watching an altogether more bloodier type of entertainment. Tomorrow would be the first leg of our return home and we had the Timmelschosh pass to look forward to and some good German beer in the evening. Prost!

Nice picies Snoot. Almost felt like I was there. Well, I was in the Verdon in the summer on the GS - fantastic place to ride.

I take it you pre-booked the hotels? For years I've gone without taking SWMBO but think she'd like this kind of trip, particularly as I'm starting to mellow and have gone off riding at 10/10th all the time.