Bimota Forum

[bimotanige]

glad its going well - venice looks mighty sunnier than Ponte for sure.

[GeeKay]

When I returned to my bike, I noticed that the rear number plate was askew. A bolt was missing it's retaining nut on the plate holder, so I had to remove the number plate, "borrow" a nyloc nut from elsewhere on the bike and replace everything. In 34 degrees of sun, with no shade available.
Leaving Venice, I re-joined the coast road to Lido de Jesolo, where it runs annoyingly one street back from the coastline. I took lunch in a shady cafe then proceeded to Eraclea-Mare and it's weird toll-charging pontoon bridge. The huge fishing nets are positioned all the way up and downstream of the river.





I leave the coast again at Caorle and head slightly inland towards Trieste. just outside the city is a signpost for the "panoramic coast road", which I take. It's a pleasant ride down to the city below. Trieste doesn't have a beach, so the locals spread themselves all along the promenade. And even though it is Monday evening, space is at a premium, both for parking and reposing.
Trieste itself is pretty and imposing. There are signs of industry past, as I pass the huge, redundant railway marshalling yards on the way in. The harbour area is a nice place to stop, fronted as it is by this impressive set of buildings.









the other side of Trieste harbour is given over to industry and I pass through quickly to the little town of Muggia, the last Italian enclave on the Mediterranean coastline. The solitary hotel is fully booked due to the yachting regatta being held there, so I continue along the coast to the old border post with what used to be Yugoslavia, but is now Slovenia.



and find refuge for the night at the impressive Hotel Adria complex in Ankaran. I have a choice - 4star accomodation or 3star. I take the cheapest, but it proves to be money well spent for the spacious accomodation I get. The Adria complex also boasts a large camping ground, huge parking spaces for mobile homes and "camping chalets", wooden huts set in the pine forests of the grounds. I book an evening meal in the hotel restaurant, which is the worst I have encountered on my trip so far, then walk down to the sea-front bar and sink a few cheap beers. The lights of Trieste, or more accurately the lights of the industrial zone of Trieste, twinkle across the bay. I wonder what colour the water is in daylight.





and that, as they say, is that. I have ridden the coast of Italy, and my "marker" has been laid ready for the next journey, should there ever be one. Although I think I will pass on the evening meal at the Adria.
When I leave Ankaran, I leave the coast behind. The next time I will see the coast is (hopefully) when I am boarding the P & O ferry at Europoort, Holland, to return home to the UK. But thats another story................

[GeeKay]

TAKE THE LONG WAY HOME..............

Next day, I pick up the A10, direction Ljubljana (capital of Slovenia) and climb away from the coast into the snow-capped mountains. I am thankful that I elected to wear my leather trousers, but my fingers are missing the comfort of my summer gloves so I stop to fuel-up and put my gloves on. Through Ljubljana and onto the E57 to Maribor, then over the border into Austria and onwards to Graz and Vienna. Thats 11 countries and 6116 miles so far.
From Vienna it's a short hop to Bratislava in Hungary - I stop just outside for lunch - then hit the D2/E65 to Brno in Slovakia. If you like trees, you'll love the D2, because there is nothing else to see. Trees to the left, trees to the right - not a village (or service station) in sight. I become a tree expert - tall trees, short trees, dark green trees, light green trees, shimmering trees, sulky trees- I am inspired to start singing "The Trees" by Rush into my long-suffering Shark helmet.

"There is unrest in the forest,
There is trouble with the trees,
For the maples want more sunlight
And the oaks ignore their pleas"

et al...........

I fuel up on the outskirts of Brno, then follow the signs for the automotodrom and look for a hotel for the night. Eventually, I find the rather wonderful Motel Kobero in the delightful village of Ostrovacice - 30 euros a night b&b plus a restaurant serving local food.

Brno from a gas station (with camera shake)



Motel Kobero





number plate maintenance (again)



Ostrovacice church



I have a drink in the motel bar and start chatting to the motel owners son, who rides a Honda FireBlade and has completed 30+ track days at Brno. He invites me to accompany him to the circuit, less than 2 miles from the the motel, as there is a track day in progress and access to the circuit is free. I accept.

This way...........



wrong way...........



we spent a couple of hours talking bikes on the banking and watching the local heroes strut their stuff.



and touring the Brno complex - mighty impressive it is too.





oooh! matching helmet!



[/b][/i]

[GeeKay]

Leaving Brno, I jump onto the D1 motorway to Prague and promptly get lost. This affords me a great view of the city below as I cross a bridge for the umpteenth time before stopping and punching "Mlada Boleslav" into Tom. Out of Prague, it's featureless dual-carriageway all the way to the turn-off for Turnov. I seek shelter from a rainstorm in a cafe in Zelezny Brod, dismayed to discover that they won't accept my euro's, so no drinks or food for me. I console myself by plotting a route through Poland and on into Germany.
The rain abates and the roads start to dry. I ride through the stunning



and on towards the old border crossing between the Czech Republic and Poland.



All these border crossings, and the only time I have had to produce my passport is when I book a room at a hotel / motel / hostel. Bravo Euro!

Lunch is taken in Jelenia Gora, Poland, my 14th country of this trip and 6583 miles since leaving home. The part of Poland that I passed through is a scenic delight - reminiscent of home with green fields and hedgerows, grazing cattle and rolling hills. Just like the Dales I know and love.
The 297 takes me to Bolestawiec where I get lost (again!) before finding the E40 that takes me across the non-existant border to Gorlitz, in what was formerly Communist-controlled East Germany. The A4 autobahn passes Dresden (why I am singing Arthur Browns "Fire")? and on towards Leipzig. I have targetted Magdeburg as my overnight stop, leaving me 450 miles to cover to Europoort and two days to do it in. Easy-peasy.
Just outside Halle, the skies darken and I stop at a rest area to don my waterproofs yet again. Just a precaution. Five miles down the road, the heavens open and dump an impressive amount of water onto the autobahn and me. The bike cuts onto one cylinder in protest. I spot a Marriot hotel at the side of the autobahn and gratefully run up the exit ramp. Then down a dual-carriageway, running away from the hotel, to a set of traffic lights, where I espy a ETAP hotel in the field to my left, proclaiming b&b for 29 euros. Marriot to the right, ETAP to the left.........
I park outside the ETAP just as the rain gets whipped into a frenzy by a wind that flattens the trees and and threatens to uproot the hotel. I shelter inside whilst the maelstrom continues unabated for the next 10 minutes, glad that I parked the bike downwind and behind the atrium. I secure a room for the night, order in a pizza and down a few beers before retiring to bed. I sleep well.
Next morning dawns sunny and bright. I breakfast and check the bike - a loud "clunking" from the rear of the bike as I approached the ETAP hotel had me worried. And quite rightly too - inspection of the drive chain led to me noticing the teeth on the rear sprocket - or, in reality, the lack of teeth on the rear sprocket. I removed the front sprocket cover and checked the front sprocket - like new - then realised that the rear was aluminium. Neglect, on my part, in keeping the chain in tension had resulted in the premature wearing of the rear sprocket to an extent where I seriously doubted that it would last the 450 miles to Europoort.
Utilising the hotel's free internet, I searched for a bike shop in Halle and turned up Kaiser Bike Connection, Suzuki main dealers just 10 kms away.
I loaded the bike and clutch-slipped my way to Kaiser using Tom to guide me. They inspected the rear sprocket, pronounced it "kaput" and checked their stock of rear sprockets - nothing matched. In truth, nothing was even close. They provided free coffee and snacks whilst one of the mechanics rang various bike shops, eventually informing me that Leipzig Ducati would be able to help.
Leipzig was 44kms back the way I had come, but any chance was better than no-chance, so I thanked the staff at Kaiser and gingerly (I know no other way!) eased my way back onto the autobahn, direction Leipzig.
Tom led me to the impressive premises of Leipzig Ducati, where the resident mechanic was waiting with a variety of rear sprockets. None of which fitted. The English-speaking salesperson informed me that they would have to order a new chain and sprocket kit from a supplier in West Germany. No problem - it was early Thursday and I didn't have to make the ferry until 18:00-ish Friday night. Except, unbeknown to me, West Germany effectively closes on a Thursday. Which meant that they couldn't actually order the kit until Friday morning, and even with express courier delivery (30 euros extra) it wouldn't arrive until late Friday evening or Saturday morning. Bugger!
I sent a text to my father asking him to re-arrange my ferry crossing for Saturday night and the very helpful salesperson ran off a list of local hotels in Leipzig. The A&O hostel was within easy walking distance, so I booked a room for two nights and carried what luggage I needed to my room, leaving my biking gear in the workshop. Showered and changed, I obtained a map of Leipzig from the front desk and ventured off into the big city, all of 10 minutes walk away.

[GeeKay]

Whilst searching for the tourist info centre, I happened upon the Royal London Bus Company. They provide a hop-off / hop-on tour of the city - 12 euros for a 2 hour tour. Seemed like a good way to pass a couple of hours, so I paid the fare and hopped-on. I was given a glossy colour guide book, printed in good old English, so I could read about the sights whilst the tour guide chatted away in German.
Leipzig is a really nice city, and pulls off a quite clever trick of blending it's ancient historical opulence with communist-inspired austerity and post-unification moderninity. Sadly, I didn't have my camera, so no pics of the sights, although I was so impressed by the monument to the Battle of the Nations that I thought I should share it with you.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Monument_to_the_Battle_of_the_Nations

Tour over, I headed for the city centre once again. This is what greets you on the corner of the main street, Nikolai Strasse





still a bit of colouring-in to do, but impressive nonetheless.

view from my bedroom window at the A&O hostel - Leipzig station



Later that evening, showered and changed, I strolled back into town to find a restaurant to take my evening meal in. On one of the corners of the intersection of Nikolai Strasse and Bruhl is a very busy Indian restaurant. I took a table inside and ordered a Cobra beer. The waiter (different chap to the one who took my drink order) approached my table with a bottle of Cobra and a glass, then asked if I wanted it pouring or if I was going to drink it from the bottle like "a proper Yorkshireman would"
Taken aback, I said I would like it poured and asked how he knew of my county of origin. Between courses and his work, he told me that he had previously worked in Bradford for one of his "uncles". Did I know Bradford, he asked?
I told him that I worked near to Bradford in Wyke. His eyes lit up and he proceeded to tell me that another of his "uncles" had a house in Wyke! I was treated to a Cobra "on the house" as we continued our conversation about the social and cultural differences between the UK and Germany. Had to laugh when he commented that immigration was becoming problematical in Germany.
Next day I returned to Ducati Leipzig to check on the progress of the replacement chain & sprocket set. I was told that it would arrive at 10:00am next day (Saturday) which left me with a full day at leisure in the city. I wangled a "test" ride on their Ducati Diavel demonstrator which passed a very pleasant couple of hours - it was so good to be back on a bike.

meet the Devil........



then took a shine to a Multistrada in the showroom, so borrowed that for a cruise around the city centre. The rest of the day was spent in an internet cafe updating this travelog. At night, I re-visited my ex-Bradfordian friend at the Indian restaurant and was treated to yet another excellent meal.
Saturday morning was bright, but noticably cooler than of late. I ate a big breakfast then vacated my room by 10:00am and de-camped to Ducati Liepzig. The spare parts arrived at 10:50, and by 11:30 we had the new sprockets and chain fitted, adjusted and ready to roll.

toothless in Leipzig







A new spark plug cap replaced the perished original on the front cylinder (the source of my intermittent wet-weather misfire) and, fully loaded, I bade farewell to the amazingly helpful staff.

meet my saviours



I pulled out of Ducati Liepzig at 11:45 - I had 7 hours maximum available to cover the 450 miles to the ferry at Europoort - so knew that I had to average over 60 mph all the way. Once on the A14 autobahn, heading for Magdeburg, I settled into an easy 80mph cruise and knuckled-down for what would be an endurance rather than an enjoyable ride. A fuel stop at Halle, then on to Magdeburg where I picked up the A2 and just held 80 mph where ever possible. Next fuel stop was just beyond Hannover, where I literally did a "splash and dash" and continued on my way. Just after Hannover, I hooked left to continue on the A2. The sky was grey and threatening rain, so at Bielefeld I pulled into a rest area and donned my waterproof suit and my warmer gloves. The rain started at Wiedenbruck, and never abated until I was 20kms shy of Europoort. A fuel stop near Hamm, then onwards on the A2 to Essen, where I picked up the A3 which runs up to Arnhem. A short run down the A325 towards Nijmegen and onto the A15, which runs all the way to Rotterdam and it's Europoort. One more fuel stop, just shy of Rotterdam, and the dearest fuel of the trip at 1.67 euros/litre and I made the ferry terminal at 18:06.
I have to admit that this had been the worst part of the trip - the Mantra isn't the ideal bike for sustained 80mph cruising, especially in the rain where it's lack of weather and wind protection is noticable. On the plus side, despite running through over 350 miles of rain, the bike never missed a beat, it's newly-fitted front cylinder plug cap laying to rest the misfire suffered previously.
On board the Pride of Rotterdam, I took a lengthy shower, changed, had an excellent meal in the buffet restaurant and passed the night drinking Becks in the cabaret lounge whilst exchanging travel stories with a group of Brit bikers returning from the Assen GP.
Sunday morning and the Humber was bathed in bright sunshine blazing from a cloudless sky. Funny how the water was still a murky shade of grey.
I had breakfast, a shower, watched the docking procedure from the stern sundeck then trooped off to the car deck to load the bike in readiness for dis-embarkation. The sun shone all the way back home and I finally arrived on my drive and killed the engine. My final entry in my notebook was "Home - 12865 miles"
7234 miles, taking in 14 countries and 7 ferry crossings, and 32 days have elapsed since I set off on this trip - and I have no desire to repeat it!!

[GeeKay]

POSTSCRIPT

So, did I discover Italy?
No - it would take years beyond what I have done to unravel the fabric of this truly marvellous country. I do feel, however, that I have been lucky enough to have had the chance to lift the lid on the simmering melting-pot that is modern Italy and experience the differing cultures, cuisine, topography and history that have forged this nation and have embraced and embellished my journey around it's coastal regions and outlying islands.
To take a holiday in but one part of Italy is to savour only the anti-pasta - my journey has run through the full menu and I can relax, contented and fulfilled, full to the brim with the flavours of this unique country.
My next journey awaits - it starts in Ankaran and ends - where?
Kickin' the Balkans, anyone?
Garry.

[oily]

Awesome trip Gary....
It's kept me entertained for the last few weeks and I now look at the Mantra in a whole new light
It's still ugly, it's still Ducati powered but it's done you proud
Welcome Home

[GeeKay]

Cheers Oily - the bike done good
Plenty of time to prepare it for it's next trip (steel sprocket on order!)

[who]

I very much enjoyed the trip! That sprocket! ooh la la!