11pm Tuesday 4th September, c. 10 miles offshore on the overnight ferry to Dubrovnik from Bari, Italy
I’m currently riding my motorbike (aka ‘Barney’) to Istanbul via the Balkans and then home via Berlin (and Jamie Halliday’s wedding).
A few of you have encouraged me to post a blog or two. So having left London on Friday evening and now reached Bari in southern Italy for a ferry to Dubrovnik, here’s a few observations of the trip so far:
France. Nope, still nothing there, but you gotta get through it to go places. Yawn. Switzerland and Germany still entertaining. Italy - great fun.
After 200 miles of the Autoroute. You learn how to unwrap and eat a whole bar of Milka chocolate, one handed and into 70 mph of wind. Crisps don’t work quite as well. Messy.
After 400 miles of the Autoroute. You stop caring about the weird looks you’re getting from people when you’re steaming along, singing out loud to your iPod. Who cares? You’re never going to see them again…..Oh yes, that is until you bump into them at the next service station because you can only go 120 miles before you need to fill up the tank.
After 600 miles of the Autoroute. You’ve learnt the words to both the full length version of Don Mclean’s American Pie and Billy Joel’s Piano Man.
After 800 miles of the Autoroute. You learn how to unpeel and eat a banana one handed and into 70 mph of wind. It’s simple - bite off the top and point into the wind and it unpeels itself. Skillz.
After 1000 miles of the Autoroute/Autostrada. You lose any inhibitions about dancing whilst listening to your iPod. Use of footpegs to stand up do so is included. See earlier comments about singing.
Pisa. Famed for its leaning tower, obviously. But should be better known for its trade in excellent fake Ray Ban Wayfarers (far better than the London ones), which they practically give away. Managed to bag a ‘near genuine’ set of fakes in return for offloading £4 and 1 Euro of change. #Winning.
Polizia Municipale. As far as I can tell they are like the Italian police B-team, separate to the peacocking Carabinieri and responsible for traffic law and ‘other stuff’. If stopped for a minor traffic misdemeanour in central Rome (ahem) they seem to a) like blowing their whistles a lot - think Italian Job style, b) be very grumpy and c) enjoy taking the time to examine every single page of your passport in some detail, a feat made all the more impressive when your passport is only two weeks old and is completely blank.
Italian driving. ABSOLUTELY MENTAL….and it gets crazier the further south you get. The 3 or 4 lane Autostrada (motorway) isn’t too bad, but driving on the single and duel carriageway SuperStrada (A-roads) is like Mario Kart on steroids. A quick guide to Italian driving standards:
Tailgating. Standard, regardless of age, sex or vehicle. Think of it like a game of ‘it’ or ‘tag’ that you used to play at primary school, but with cars at 70 mph +.
Merging. Best done whilst on a mobile phone. Don’t expect cars to move out of the inside lane when joining the carriageway. Don’t rush to move completely over and feel free to saunter along, straddling two lanes for a few miles. Or ten.
Giving way. Eh? As a Brit, when you do this the locals simply don’t know how to react. They freeze, like a rabbit caught in headlights, completely unable to understand what is happening, pulling to a halt exactly at the point when you’re letting them through/out.
Indicators. Only used when sat in the outside lane; left on when changing lanes the opposite direction.
But the thing is, and it might not be ‘correct’ to admit this, driving 1000 miles through Italy is without doubt a hilarious experience and actually a lot of fun.
The Amalfi coast. See driving points above. Never seen a 60 year old Italian granny get her right knee down on the ground whilst cornering on a 50cc Vespa? Go to the Amalfi coast. Stunning scenery, crazy roads, fantastic ride. Still unclear on whether the bus drivers have photos of the Virgin Mary taped to the inside of their windscreens for the sake of your fortunes or theirs.
Zero. This one is for you Mum and Dad. To reassure you that so far, despite much of the above implying otherwise, there have been zero near misses, no close shaves, just a lot of fun.