Ancona was a bit like Istanbul, surrounded by water and difficult to find your way out of. Eventually I headed north along the coast road, passing through many sea side resorts that I imagine would be packed to the rafters with tourists in the summer time. I found a café that was open, had a cup of tea and a piece of cake then headed for San Marino. I didn’t head to San Marino for anything in particular, just to add it to the list of countries I had visited on the way home.
San Marino is quite high up in the hills/mountains. The mist became thick freezing fog as I climbed higher and higher. Eventually I broke on through to the other side and found the beautiful town sat high on the mountain. I wanted to find the race track but opted for a cup of coffee and a warm instead.
Leaving San Marino, I opted to take the small roads and trails that occasionally appeared as if by magic. I got lost once or twice, and chased by mad mountain dogs now and again, then headed for Pisa. My trusty Garmin GPS 12XL was always sure and steadfast.
The leaning tower was quite difficult to find, but sure enough I eventually found it, but just like Mt Olympus it was never lost in the first place anyway. It was difficult to find a decent place to park up and take pictures, I was always more wary of leaving my bike unattended since In….. Anyways, I found a spot, took a couple of snaps like a tourist would, and then cleared off.
The weather started to deteriorate once again, this time it started to rain quite heavily and was also very cold. I stopped in Torino overnight in a very expensive hotel, but at least the radiators worked so I could dry out my stuff.
After breakfast I headed for the Alps. I had a number of choices from here, I could pays my money and take my chance, around €50 to go through Frejus tunnel, or I could freeze my nuts off and go over the Alps for considerably less than that. Whichever way I went I was going to freeze my nuts off anyway so I may as well do it for free, I went over the Alps.
Signs at the sides of the road warned of ice as I climbed higher and higher up into the Alps towards Sestriere. The bike didn’t like the high altitudes as the air is a bit thinner and the air filter felt like it was struggling to let enough air through. The bike was struggling for breath as I got higher, and colder. I feathered the throttle accordingly so that I didn’t place too much strain on the engine. My hands were freezing by now, I had to stop a few times to warm my hands on the engine and adjust the duct tape I had wrapped round my gloves.
Over the top I went, taking the corners and the bends with extreme caution. I eventually crossed into France near Montgenevre. I had been here on a few occasions in the past and knew the border guys wouldn’t stop me for a spot check. I approached the border post, the guy looked at me………and……waved me through, what about that then?
I went down the road to Briancon, over to Grenoble for a burger and a coffee at McDonalds, and then on to Lyon. I studied in Lyon a few years ago so I called on a couple of people I knew there. I knew where to find the youth hostel in Lyon so I stayed there for the night. I had a wander down to Vieux Lyon and had a few drinks in some of my old haunts, had yet another kebab, then hit the zeds.
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