For our many fan who fear that Patrick's return to Blighty will be swiftly followed by a decline in the quality, regularity and clarity of this blog, prepare to be totally vindicated. With the departure of our map king and uber organiser, Charlie and I have been swiftly reduced to following our instincts, guided by occasional promptings of the satnav which, hurrah, appears to recognise Italy - just as long as you want to go to Rome.
With my political antennae bruised by visiting the Berchtesgarten area of Germany, where Hitler went to play heidi hi with Eva Braun, a prolonged visit to Austria didn't appeal so we rapidly trans Alpined along some pretty smashing roads, tunnels, and overpasses towards Italy, weaving in and out of the showers.
En route we encountered a short section of brand new S bends, the sort of thing that bikers dream of. It was only further down the valley that we saw the reason for the rapid road building - a section of highway that had been destroyed by a mega rock fall1
We entered Italy late afternoon and instantly noticed the changes: rubbish roads, older cars, less of the neatly cared for Alpine scenery and everywhere people chatting to each other! National stereotypist? Moi!
What little Italian I can remember has been temporarily swamped by our total immersion in deutsche kultur of the past two weeks, so Charlie and I have a pointing-type of meal and retreat early to our hotel where the room price is to be agreed in the morning - very Italian!
Tomorrow they're forecasting heavy rain and even snow up at higher altitudes, so we might try to tuck ourselves away for a day before going over to Lake Como and then on into Switzerland to visit family.
Phew! How did I do Patrick?
No comments:
Post a Comment