Owner of a Lonely Kar...Tee-Emm

[Matt]

Yes.

As you may recall, a bunch of us went off in June on David's Old Gits 2023 - Italy Lakes and Mountains. I variously kept a log/blog/diary/cry for help of my trip as we went, and as I stayed on after the Dolomites section and headed into the Balkans. Here are those words. I hope you're bored enough to read it, otherwise it'll just serve to help me remember what I did.

Day One

Our trip started from my house on Friday. Martin and Richard turned up - on time - and I duly forgot to give them the trip branded t-shirts that had been sent to me to take care of.

The first target was the channel tunnel near Folkestone. Unfortunately, as with so many places in the south, this required us to take the M25 and then the M20. Both of these motorways had enough traffic on to make it a less than relaxing start. In any case we arrived at the tunnel terminal in plenty of time, rode the circuitous entry roads and said hello to the French guy and bonjour to the English guy. We had our first new experience here too, being pulled into the customs inspection area. Thankfully this consisted of less than 5 minutes of some guys looking at and brushing the bikes for some assumedly drug sniffing machines. Next we joined the bike queue for the train, and sat behind an old fella for the next ten minutes who left his engine running, killing polar bears like there was no tomorrow.

The train under the sea was uneventful and thirty or so minutes later we rode off onto the right side of the road in a place the foreigners call France. It was nearly 4pm French time at this stage, but we only had to get to a town called Bethune for our first night, and this was about an hour or so away, so a relatively light introduction to French driving. It was a pleasant enough motorway ride with about 5% of the traffic we experienced earlier in the day on the UK side. 

Bethune is a small town a few miles north west of Lens. It feels like a good way into France until you zoom the map out and realise it's only about 5% of the way down the country. Our hotel, a new Ibis construction, was near the centre and secure and pleasant. We met a few of the wider group here and had a nice evening at a Mexican restaurant over the road.



Day Two

Saturday was always going to be the biggest day. The requirement was simply to get to our next hotel, Hotel Florimont, in the south of France, 20km or so south of Geneva. Over 470 miles. Sat on motorways for 90% of it. In the UK this would be agony, however as with our Friday afternoon ride in northern France the traffic was almost entirely very light. We set off around 0900 and got into the routine of riding for an hour or two, stopping for water/petrol/snacks, and continuing. All whilst obeying speed limits as we tried to work out what the cameras, radars etc look like in France. A fun law change in France means our Sat Navs would be breaking the law if they pointed out the speed cameras, so we only ever got notices of kilometre long patches where a camera 'might' await us. The mild annoyance of not knowing where the cameras are hiding was ameliorated however by the 130kph (80mph) speed limit, which feels much better than the UK 70mph.

Another somewhat more frustrating aspect of this ride was the fact all these motorways are toll roads. We'd been sensible sausages and bought little black boxes (Tags, or Telepasses) that would in theory be recognised by the magic at the toll booth and automatically charge us and open the gate. In theory. Each of us encountered at least one booth that day on the way onto/off a section that wouldn't recognise the little Tag device. Our fun conversations with the people at the end of the "Assistance" button were very enjoyable. In opposite land. Somehow though, they let us through and we finally dropped off the toll roads several hours later to enjoy our first country roads for the final 100km or so to the hotel.

Here we came across the most vivid watery bit at a dam, where we stopped for a break and variously hid in the shade as much as possible. As we got closer to our destination the scenery became more and more excellent.

Anyway, Saturday ended when we got to the hotel south of Annecy where most of the rest of the group had already arrived and had pizza on the way. Pizza was eaten, agonising 470 mile commutes were compared, and sleep came easily.





Day Three

This being the final commute stopover before our first destination, we were up and out before 9am. Martin, Richard and I took the route kindly created by David which was about 212 miles and set to take 6.5 hours before adding in lunch and other stops. This was also the first route that would bring us to some cols, or passes. The first one was Col du Meraillet and the first time I had to remember how to ride. Snow capped peaks and a nice lake were the eye foods to go with the great roads. The second col was shorter - and I am pretty sure this was the one I did a few years back when every other route was still closed with snow - and called Col du Petit-Saint-Bernard. More hairpins were the theme here but still a lot of fun and a nice twisty road back down to the east side. After this the route was pretty much just straight lining it to the hotel in Baveno on the west side of lake Maggiore. 

Hotel Rosa was a great place with friendly staff and most importantly air conditioning. Or maybe most important was bike parking. I forget as I was so hot. In the evening the three of us went for a walk and had dinner at a lovely little restaurant called Posta, complete with little piazza and view of the lake. Amusingly as we we walked over to have a look at the water after dinner I spotted a couple of bikes and my spidey senses said "that's Tom and Philip!" And then my voice parts said out loud "that's Tom and Philip!" And it turned out it was Tom and Philip. True story!

At a pass



Sorry Charlie, Piazza.


Friends!


It's got a lake.


There were a lot of painting of a guy that looks like he got in no end of trouble.



To be continued...

[richtea]

Excellent. Better pictures than mine!

> We had our first new experience here too, being pulled into the customs inspection area. Thankfully this consisted of less than 5 minutes of some guys looking at and brushing the bikes for some assumedly drug sniffing machines.

Darn, I thought it was for firearms. As if. I mean where am I going to mount them?

[black-k1]

Great start Matt.  I'm looking forward to the full trip report.  Please send me a copy and I'll post it up on the Old Gits site.

I think the wipe is likely to have been for firearms and/or explosives as Cliffy, who was City of London police bomb squad, used to have to be officially verified. 

[Phmode]

It is indeed explosive stuff and decades ago I was wiped in the car at Eurotunnel about two days after I had been out shooting. Powder residue was found all over the steering wheel (and therefore on my hands) and in the boot. Luckily I had a few photos of the event in my phone as well as still having my shotgun certificate in the glove box. The guys were highly agitated in that way that proper police offers get highly agitated...icy cold, very professional and very polite. Luckily they didn't make me empty the car as we were packed for a month in le Lot. One younger tyke officer was a bit persistent about why I had my certificate with me if I wasn't carrying the shotgun but one of the more mature types led him away on some distraction errand and the other one told me to scarper. Apparently the residue can remain on well-washed hands for days and on softish surfaces like steering wheels for more than a week, assuming you never clean your steering wheel...

Apparently lots of shooting types who take their guns abroad also try to take lots of cartridges (which is/was verboten) cos they were cheaper in Uk and probably better quality than buying them at French shooting grounds.

[Matt]

Day Four

Somewhere between our arrival the day before, and breakfast this day, we discussed and agreed our first actual 'rideout' to some passes. After a while all the passes seem to blend together in one's mind, so what follows is my best guess at the route we took. It was a roughly 220 mile day and again about 5 and a half hours before breaks. We started after breakfast by heading north west on some main boring roads to get to the Simplon Pass. This was our first run into Switzerland and I duly rode slower than a goose for the run up to the twisty roads. We stopped here for our first coffee and pastry. We were one of the earlier cool dudes, but more arrived shortly after. We continued on round a town called Brig and north east up a road that got better and better, eventually taking us to Furka Pass. 

However! Before the Furka Pass we turned left and went via about a dozen hairpins right up the Grimsel Pass! This was a short run but at the top we discovered an incredible viewing area, showing off an impressive dam. This was one of two days we had a bit of rain, although other than a bit of drizzle making the nearby roads slightly greasy, it had no impact on our ride. 

More hairpins and there goes Furka Pass. Next was St Gotthard Pass, lots of fun roads! We pulled over at a spot called 'Punto Panoramico San Gottardo' for a break and photos. There was an incredible view of either Airolo or Quinto. A town. Having completed our list of passes we headed south on boring roads which eventually took us along the west side of lake Maggiore heading south to the hotel.

It's a big ass lake and a long ass road, and some way along here we realised we'd got into the rush hour traffic. Thankfully Richard bopped us into a little cafe where we spent an hour or so enjoying the local coffee and snacks and young lady asking us for English words such as 'sparkling'. This was referring to water, not my eyes. By about 7pm the traffic had gone and we set off. I think this was the first time we (or maybe just for me, the others being better at the biking thing!) started to actively 'do as the locals do' and make progress in 50kph zones. It's quite satisfying keeping up with a filtering scooter when you're on a laden wide arse litre plus bike!

Ok. Back to the hotel, shower and walk into town. This time we bumped into a couple of our group enjoying dinner at a place called Fratelli Rosso dal 1981. Down a tiny narrow alley but looking lovely, so we went in and got a table. This was good food and being the resident poncy person I insisted on some slightly more expensive wine which I'm sure everyone enjoyed (just as much as the cheap wine but shush)! After this we may have bumped into the larger group and had more drinks but i'm not sure. We often bumped into the larger group and had more drinks!

I mean if you need me to tell you where this is we've got bigger problems.



Grimsel dam.


It's not what it looks like.


That strangely named viewing area on the way down.


Day Five

Richard has wisely suggested a day off the bike for himself, and I limpeted my way along with him. Meanwhile Martin - just as wisely! - suggested he ride yesterday's route the other way round. I believe he had a nice time and didn't die even once.

Meanwhile Richard and I took a little boat to some islands in order to stimulate the local economy. First we wizzed over to Isola Madre which is about 3/5ths of the way to the other side of this little bit of the lake. On it were some gardens and a rich family's house. It was either here or the next one that I had a Cornetto. This is worth mentioning because it was about twice the size of your UK 'export' Cornetto! Stock up, travellers. The second island we got to by lake bus boat because we missed our little boat. This was Isola Bella and had a much larger house we went inside of, full of old stuff and high ceilings. There was also a little village type thing going on with food and clothes and gift shops etc littered around. It was here I got my hat that I'm certain everybody thinks makes me look like not at all an idiot but a cool dude. We also had lunch at some weird music themed cafe called Lemontree. Nice enough. We got back on our little boat, didn't bother getting off to explore Isola Superiore because ugh, and headed back to the hotel.

I then had a little walk into the town and somehow met the larger group and had more drinks, before meeting Rich and Martin and going back to Posta for dinner. I think it was this night I went to the little DIY shop opposite the hotel and got an adapter plug so that I could charge my electric toothbrush. Spoiler alert: It was a piece of poop and broke before I got chance to use it.

The hotel is there somewhere.


Godzilla!!!


I believe this one is called 'Richard's Lament - The Price of Bikes' .


Watery bits.


Day Six

Onwards to the next hotel! This time all the way east to a decent altitude (which means cooler better temperatures) town/village called Fondo and a hotel called Lady Maria. The town was lovely, the hotel was acceptable. Note to self: the guy was dodgy. 

The ride there was mostly boring. The trouble with northern Italy is it is the most industrialised part. It also has the great mountains but to get to them you generally end up passing through an Italian version of Slough. And about 10 times as long. 

After we cleared Maggiore though we headed cross country and had our first mid morning/lunch stop at a pass/place called Culmine di San Pietro. I believe others in our group stopped here too, a little before us. There was a St. Bernard dog with signs saying don't pet him. I had a lovely bit of pasta and i believe chips were also involved.

The section we took over the north of Milan was the Slough part. Eventually we got out of this and took San Marco Pass for some fun, followed by more boring roads, followed by Mortirolo Pass, followed by more boring roads and finally Fondo. Dinner was at the hotel and some sort of buffet followed by set menu type affair. It contained calories, I believe.

Dog.


Restaurant.


Bikes yay!


To be continued...

[richtea]

You describe it so well it's as though I was there with you. Keep going - I'm enjoying this. 

> Note to self: the guy was dodgy.

His joke whilst serving from behind the bar to thirsty tired Brits:
'What would you like to drink? Tea?! Hahahaha."
Two days running. And he didn't sell cider. Grrr.

'You will sit in the same place every night, and write down what you want to eat.'
Er, OK.

'I lock the bar at 10pm.'
Er, OK.
At 9:45 we come in for the last drink and the bar is locked.

Let's call him a colourful character. He certainly amused us. I think he was called Basilio di Faulti.

[Matt]

Day Seven

The Dolomites-tee-hee! Because I am a pain in the arse I kept out of rout discussions for this day. Richard and Martin either copied or came up with the route which took us north out of Fondo on a sweeping winding road (SS238), Gampenpass. It then took us west and oh look, we're doing the common as muck Stelvio Pass! I don't really know why I wasn't keen to do this one, possibly a mix of knowing it was very popular - so people and cars to get in the way - and knowing it was mostly famous for the number of hairpins. Something like 46. Anyway, far be it for me to get grumpy (I get grumpy) and actually it was a lot of fun (it was a lot of fun). The longest part of it is twisty stuff, then some hairpins, then some twisty again, and then a crap ton of hairpins to the top. Good times. It was on the first hairpins where a VW camper type thing decided to stop 2/3rds of the way round an uphill right-hand hairpin and our Tom, who'd joined us along with Phil and Alan for the day - had a bit of a coming together as he had no way to put his foot down in time. No damage other than brains.

We summited the bugger and joined the millions of other bikers for lunch somewhere. I think it consisted of cake. And coffee. We played count the GS here and realised it's a popular bike. Also, Martin went to pay, paid, but somehow the waitress interpreted it as him paying for a new order up front (he must look untrustworthy in the thin air), so we made a swift exit as someone started asking who wanted the coffee and cake. Stelvio economy: crushed.

Now it got fun as we trundled further along a little bit and then turned right and flew along a less populated but slightly damp road onto the Umbrail Pass. This took us briefly into Switzerland until we turned around, did it again and then took the south west road out of the Stelvio zone and into a town called Premadio. Or Molina. Or Bormio. Yeah. Oh! Then we headed south along the SS300 and did the Passo del Gavia which was great, and god knows what else was there with a bunch of hairpins until we ended up going east and back to the hotel. Great day. Oh what a feeling, when you're riding on the ceiling.

At the top of Stelvio. Considering i've (humble brag alert) climbed the tallest freestanding climbing wall in the western world i felt a bit iffy on our balcony seating here.


On the way down we stopped here for a lovely lunch. If only I could remember what I had. Something lovely i'm sure.


Glacier. At the above location. And pictures in the place showed the depressing receding gums issue it has.


Ah sweet memories of a better time.


Lovely bit of tarmac.


Day Eight

Weather! The talk of the town (table) at breakfast was the predicted watery drops due in the morning. As each group chose their tactic we went with 'ignorance is best' and took off at the usual time. We headed east. You know what they say about heading east, right. By 10:00 the rain started in earnest, and after a short while we pulled over and hid at a building with a nice brise soleil to shelter under. Or it was just the falling apart overhanging roof section for loading grain or something of a disused building. One of those. Twenty minutes later we waterproofed up and rode on. The worst of the rain had stopped and pretty soon everything was fine again.

The Dolomites have a different character to the Alps which were near the last hotel. Far more spikey and other words I forget. Richard made this route. Or customised this David route. Or this entire trip was a dream. One of those statements I'm almost certain is most likely true. Anyway it was great.

We followed the route and hit the Lavaze Pass. Good fun! They're all good fun and difficult to differentiate to be honest. The eastern most extent of this route took us to the Pordoi Pass and then the Campolongo Pass. These two were pretty close together. In fact the whole route was only about 160 miles and so a fairly nice length after a few stops. Let's say 7 hours all in. We stopped somewhere here for lunch/brunch, where we found sleet on the road and had a fun 3–5 minutes ride after, where we had to stay on the tyre tracks to avoid the sleet on the road.

As we started the day we ended it, via that super Mendel Pass. The first/last section of this is narrow cliff-side road with a 40kph limit which for once was a pretty sensible limit given we shared the road with bikes, cars, and pedal cyclists, all taking seemingly random entries and exits to corners/obstacles.

This evening I convinced Martin and Richard to join me in eating 'off-site'. A high risk endeavour! I started us off by really entering the danger zone: a drink that isn't in a pint glass! We had what I suppose is technically a cocktail, the Italian favourite an Aperol Spritz. And this came out to us along with some strange sweet pancake. I think we all enjoyed it, but who knows the mysteries of a man's mind! Next we walked about a bit and found a pizzeria. This was excellent food and excellent beer. We then had a nice stroll about the village/town and finally made our way back to the hotel and either more beer or bed, I forget.

Rain.


Sleet/hail.


Mountainy bit.


Bike.


Stranger drink!


Pizza food!


The number of photos taken of this guy no wonder he has no soul.


This was the end of the first trip for me, and after this I set off on my own.

To be continued...

[black-k1]

Again Matt, a great write-up and some great pictures. Like you, Roger and I went east on day 8 but managed to avoid the rain. In fact, the waterproofs stayed on the bike for the whole trip.

The whole trip was just mile after mile of wonderful roads, punctuated with coffee and cake. Roll on next year!

[Matt]

Day Nine

We started the day together, for one last ride! As per the will of the FSM I planned to leave the group after the Dolomites stage and head off on my own into the Balkans. Like a brave little soldier. Soldier of peace.

As Richard and Martin were going north to Germany they came with me towards Bolzano before heading proper north and me turning east. Just as yesterday when we got stuck riding round a lorry car park at the outskirts of Bolzano, I did the same thing immediately after we parted company, again managing to go the wrong way down the autoroute. We're missing something but I'm not sure what. Anyway after much cursing I got onto the target road SS12 heading north east. Boring and hot. Then east. Bit better. Then into Austria where I picked up a vignette for 5 euros and 80 cents. I took the road called '100' towards Lienz and had a nice time. It gradually got less busy, less developed, and more sweeping bends. I immediately noticed in Austria the standard of driving went up, and the adherence to rules also. Pleasingly the A road speed limit in Asutria is 100kph, up from 90kph in Italy. Every little helps.

Somewhere along a mountainy bit I stopped next to some bike that looked nice and had one of those Austrian sausages with cheese inside, with some mustard and bread, and a coffee. I think here was where I was given a map of the region and briefly confirmed that my route through the country hit at least a few of their recommended roads.

Anyway I continued heading east and a bit south until a very uneventful crossing into Slovenia on a mini pass type road. I pulled over to take some pictures and then rode down to the hotel in Podkoren. It's a tiny village with a couple of cobbled streets and that appears to be all. Vitranc Boutique hotel was nice and my room had a view of a snowless ski slope (used for some international competition I think the chap said) plus massive rocky mountains with some clouds shuffling over them. Beautiful! It was only one night here as I wanted to get to Croatia for my first break of two nights and perhaps a chance to edit some videos [me: or not, have you tried editing 360 videos? Maybe next year].

For this trip (and NZ later in the year) I bought a 360 degree action camera, the Insta360 X3, and strapped it to the bike in various places at various times. It makes great footage but what it saves in framing shots - ie there's no framing as everything is in shot - it cancels out in requiring a large editing effort later. Still, by the time I had left the group I'd got several hours worth of mainly me, Richard, and Martin doing definitely high quality riding in incredible locations, so something good should hopefully be achievable. Eventually.

My first stop on my own, in Austria.


Austria nice.



Slovenia nice!


The hotel was a beaut' and a bunch of bikes appeared later too.


Ski slope and mountainy bits.



Dinner was great, and breakfast was good too, although self-serve machine coffee.


Day Ten

Moving on again today I rode from Slovenia down into Croatia. Being a lazy sausage and booking the previous hotel in the north-western most part of Slovenia, most of the day I rode through Slovenia where I enjoyed quite an abundance of fun roads, mostly 90kph limits, and no Slough-like depressing sprawling (insert negative adjectives x10) industrial places anywhere. I suppose that 88th largest economy vs 8th largest economy has something to do with that. And with a population of around 2 million it's going to struggle to be busy anywhere.

In the afternoon I crossed the border near the village of Babno Polje, which is about 30–40km inland and one of the smaller crossings. I expected - although Croatia did recently go Schengen - there'd be some kind of stop here, but I rode straight through an empty set of border paraphernalia.

The last part of the day took me into Croatia to a town called Tribalj, south of Rijeka and opposite the 'island' of Krk. Croatian country roads are strange. Some are twisty as anything and stay at a 90kph limit so off we go, where others are about the same degree of twistiness yet have a sign warning of "challenging road for motorcyclists" or something, and then a 50kph limit for the lot. Oh, also there are signs for bears.

Anyway, as I came down from the mountains to the east I got two things: an incredible view of the coast, and a return to high twenties celcius. My hotel - Hotel Balatura - is up a little tarmac track and has a delightfully treacherous gravel parking area with differing depths. That wasn't incredible. Later on a German couple arrived on HDs and enjoyed the parking ordeal almost as much as me.

The first surprise (or maybe the only one, it's a mystery to me as much as you right now) was when the young man showing me around stated "this is a vegetarian hotel sir." And then asked if I wanted to stay for dinner [still]. Given the temperature and my renowned ability to be so picky as to never choose somewhere to stop, I agreed. Turned out alright! I'd love to list what I ate but I can only recall lentils involved in the starter, and a deep fried green thing with mash potato for main. And some peach cake thing for dessert. There. I ate it all. Like a good boy. They also served a pilsner from what I understand is a local company that currently outsources the actual making to somewhere on the other side of the country. God knows. But it was unfiltered which makes a nice change. And it was nice enough, as pilsners go.

Then I went to bed. My room/apartment/suite thing was lovely air conditioned, nice solid stone thing with a roll-top tub and nice little balcony seating area with a great view of the sunset.

A nice desolate border crossing.



Excellent hotel.



Hurrah for beer!


Day Eleven

Oh yeah, tyres. Today is Monday, so that's why I didn't address this yesterday afternoon. I noticed my rear was getting well used and yesterday noted the remaining tread depth to the wear marker at about 1mm. Motorcycle dealers etc get fewer the further south so first thing this morning I set about internetting somewhere to go. The first place I spotted on my way into town and as it had scooters etc outside I popped in. They couldn't guarantee a tyre would arrived by tomorrow AM. I need it by then as I have at least 7 hours riding down to the south tomorrow. The second place, Motofix, run by a guy called Cristian, was much more helpful. He's a great guy and spent a long time trying to source my exact tyre. This didn't work as the main warehouse for most stuff is in Poland and would take more than a day to arrive. So we broadened our search for "anything with a name I know" and as luck would have it a Bridgestone of some variety was not too far away. So he ordered that for tomorrow, and we cross out fingers.

It's not over yet though! Having had this issue myself I mentioned the huge 60mm nut holding the rear on, just to check he has the tools. He has not. So another good while was spent sourcing a 60mm socket, which he's also ordered for tomorrow. So fingers crossed for Croatian logistics and that new borderless border!

Having done all I could do I rode out and decided to see what this Krk island place is all about. Turns out it's all about getting to 32c and being full of German tourists driving huge campers at slow speed. After a loop of a couple of little towns there I got out and back to the hotel. Too hot!

The day ended with beer and another impressive vegetarian/vegan dinner.



Day Twelve

Whew. Long day. As I ate whatever vegetarians eat for breakfast my phone lit up with a WhatsApp from Cristian letting me know the tyre had arrived.

Side note: In the past I've always found it overly burdensome trying to re-pack every morning, cramming all my stuff into the bags/panniers and then trying to squeeze my panniers closed. Also on this bike the panniers don't like to open if they're under pressure/overly full. Fun. For this trip I did two things differently. First I bought proper lightweight trousers and tops, and a pair of Freet shoes (barefoot type things with bugger all sole). Secondly I put all clothes into several zip-lock bags and squashed the air out. These two decisions made it a lot easier each morning to just roll stuff up, put it into the zip-lock bags, squash the bags. I did look into the various stuff sacks and packing cubes etc, but they respectively had no control over thickness and didn't actually compress.

Oh yeah, lastly I took a dry bag and some bio-degradeable washing liquid so I could wash my clothes on the go. And some paracord and 3d printed clothes pegs. Because I don't own clothes pegs and my whittling knife is dulled.

Back to the excitement. Bike all packed I had a nice checkout chat with one of the owners (who was more German than Croatian, which informs this statement), "we think of you British as our younger brother, always making silly mistakes" (guess the topic where we're talking idiotic decisions) and got going directly to the garage.

Both the tyre and the 60mm socket thing had arrived. After a little while of chatting with him and his mate we put the bike on his lift and he tried to loosen the nut. And tried again. And got a bigger lever. And had me hold the rear, and tried again. Eventually he got the thing off. It's on with about 260Nm and I know it was at that torque as I bought a lovely new wrench and was the last to do it. Our K1300Ss take 60 ish Nm for each of the 5 or 6. Mad. All in the name of style. Maybe. But then my hub doesn't corrode at the edge so harrumph.

He nipped off round the corner to get the tyre replaced and some paint scratched off the edge of my rim. Because apparently it's really difficult not to be shit (to be clear this was not his fault, it was the tyre shop he took it to). When he came back he exclaimed about my chain being dry as a bone and pretty much insisted he clean and wax it. I checked the tension which was fine. As were the pads all round, and my final drive wasn't leaking because I don't have one. So all good.

Somehow it was midday by the time I left. And it was hot. For the whole ride it varied between 31 and 35c. I took the coastal roads, but was stressing about speed limits for the most part ("oh a slight bend, we better add a 30kph sign!" ad nauseam), interrupted by tagging onto an occasional passing vehicle. Did I mention it was hot? I'm so glad I got my new mesh type stuff as my old Halvarssons Goretex stuff would have boiled me.

I stopped for a late lunch somewhere with a non-neutered cat and amazingly didn't get poisoned from the seafood risotto I wisely chose from the menu.

Somewhere possibly near Split I jumped onto a toll road to get me the rest of the way. If I recall correctly this toll road issued a paper ticket which I handed in at the end and paid a small bill. No worrying about sensors!

I got to the hotel (re-assured weeks before with the response "don't worry we have secure parking for your bike sir!") to find nothing in the way of special parking potential. This was possibly the first time I covered the bike and used the disc lock. Mostly because I viewed this area as a bit of a border crossing town/village. The hotel was nice though. It appeared to be a recently built cafe/bar with a few rooms above to aid in revenue generation. Speaking to the young lady who checked me in, it's a quiet town and not a lot of opportunities. I imagine that's the case in a lot of places (/me waves at everyone in the north).

After unpacking and checking my pockets for detritus I realised I'd taken the key and delightful wooden keyring from the previous hotel! Being a silly goose I went downstairs and after a bit of a chat the lady rang my old place and arranged to send the key back. Good stuff.

I have a feeling my dinner here was a Twirl and some biscuits as they didn't have a restaurant and I was too tired to walk anywhere.

Bike ready to go!


Tyres time.


I must have taken this to illustrate either mileage, a dying battery, a faulty oil temp sensor or I don't know why.


"will someone please sterilise me!"


Lunch stop with a view.


Hotel stop with also a view.




To be continued...

[richtea]

It might have been bloody hot, but it makes for good photos (again) - and good write up!
When do we get to clutch time - Monsieur Shaft-drive-rot Mickey-taker?

[Matt]

It might have been bloody hot, but it makes for good photos (again) - and good write up!
When do we get to clutch time - Monsieur Shaft-drive-rot Mickey-taker?

Haha it's coming! We've got... 3 countries to go! Although I imagine all these thirty plus days didn't help.

[black-k1]

Well done Matt, another great read.

Your comment about unpacking/packing every day strikes true. One of the main reasons the Old Gits trips tend to involve staying at the same location for 2, 3 or more days is to avoid the requirement for the daily pack/unpack routine.

How many miles had your rear tyre done when it needed changing?

[Matt]

Well done Matt, another great read.

Your comment about unpacking/packing every day strikes true. One of the main reasons the Old Gits trips tend to involve staying at the same location for 2, 3 or more days is to avoid the requirement for the daily pack/unpack routine.

How many miles had your rear tyre done when it needed changing?

Yep, I really did appreciate that, and it informed my longer stops later too. My Roadtec 01 SE rear had, hang on let me check... 4,165. I think i'd have got another 500 miles before wear marker.

And to add to that I had tried the Metzeler M9 RR immediately prior and that got 3,995 and was proper done.

The front 01 SE is at 6,000 ish miles now and still fine. The Bridgestone T32R is at about 3,500 miles and looks to have about 2mm before wear markers.

[black-k1]

Blimey, your 1290GT get's through rear tyres!  I get over 6000 out of a rear 01 SE on my H2 SX and it's a good few kgs more that the 1290GT. I also think I'm probably a kg or two more than you! 

[Matt]

Day Thirteen (28th June)

Woke up this morning, got myself a mug, mamma always said I'd be the chosen one. What a show. Anyway, breakfast here was a proper coffee and then a tray with bread and pastry stuff and a bunch of little plastic jam/honey things. Again, what with the hot weather and my diet of air (wasn't there a cult or something who insisted humans could survive on air only?) I ate little. The bike was still outside and covered, so I packed up and got going.

Today was a short riding day just across the border into Bosnia and to the well known town Mostar, of bridge fame. And finally this was the first non European Union border, ignoring our moronic one. As far as I recall I crossed at the modern looking Nova Sela. I stopped at the little booth thing and heard "<gibberish>… you want stamp?" "do I need one?" "you go" "ok bye". Job done. It was about half ten by now and I rode straight to Kravica Waterfall… car park. As I arrived I spied about a dozen massive coaches half unloaded and immediately turned around and left. I've seen water before, I know its game (its game is to lull us into a false sense of security by making up most of our mass, and then killing us by taking the rest too).

I got to Mostar about 1pm via a pretty direct and uneventful A road. Even more walking pace speed limits for normal radius bends here. It gets worse the further south. The 'hotel' Hotel Hana wasn't really a hotel even though it has hotel in the name and calls itself a 3 star hotel. It was rooms with en suites. No restaurant, no bar, no daily turning down or wtf. And my view of the mountains was the bit of the mountains above the council/soviet looking block of flats literally right opposite. Still, it had air conditioning. And greasy prints/marks over much of the furniture. I'd wanted to stay at Kriva Cuprija after seeing Baron Von Grumble stay there and it appealing to my desire to stay at poncy ass places. Unfortunately that place being the best place in town fills up quick.

Unpacked and showered in the tiny damp dimly lit shower I took the 5 minute walk from my wrong side of town into the old town to try and spy the bridge. It being summer end of term here and also it being a world famous landmark does not make for empty streets. It makes for full streets. The streets were full. Matty don't like no full streets. Full streets? Not for me thanks I'm fine. I crossed the bridge, walked past a few of the shops selling Chinese tat and turned back. Found somewhere just about acceptable for lunch, although being partly outdoors there were smokers aplenty. Gobbled lunch, paid with euros, went back to hotel to write and plan.

The morning, leaving the hotel.


Mostar views.



The bridge.


Day Fourteen (29th June)

Ok the main things annoying me that I wanted to sort were:
1. Tourists
2. Petrol
3. A SIM card
4. Cash

I solved point one by going into the old town at 0800, when the only other people present were the shop owners setting up their displays of tat. Being a much sunnier day it was an all round pleasant experience. I got to walk across the old bridge without anybody else there. I then happened across a little stall and got the exact MNO SIM I wanted, 30Gb for 30 days, valid across all the non-git (ok ok git leaders) Balkan countries (i.e all but Serbia). On my way back I went to a cash machine and got some BAM (right in the kisser!), the Bosnian currency. This I used to pay for petrol half hour later at what reviews called "the best petrol station in Bosnia." It was a petrol station. Incidentally we're now at the petrol station stage that parts of Italy had about ten years ago, when you're never certain if the guy standing there is going to try and fill your bike for you or not. At this one, one day no, other day yes.

So, having solved the 4 main mood detractors I rode off east to get to Sarajevo and see about the Tunnel of Hope. This is a tunnel dug by Bosnians during the siege of Sarajevo as the only way in/out. It went under the UN occupied airfield and so was somewhat safe from total destruction. It allowed for humanitarian and military supplies. Anyway, read the Wikipedia page to learn more.

After the unsurprising and all too frequent experience of stabbing buttons at a toll booth was resolved I got there in a couple of hours of nice enough riding. The first half - well, once I'd got out of Mostar outskirts - was basically an 80kph single carriageway for miles and miles, skirting a wide and beautiful river, backed by impressive hills and mountains. Awesome. Then came some villages and speed cameras not in my DB. So we'll see how that goes. Then the toll road. Then Sarajevo. I saw a few buildings with bullet holes on the way. It makes things real for sure.

The museum and tunnel experience area is right next to the still working airport. As I rode up to the car park I was very relieved to note not even one coach had beat me there, and it was already 11am! I imagine getting here from your cruise ship parked at Split is more an overnight thing compared to the waterfall by the coast yesterday. Must help. So I jumped off the bike, paid the lad 2 BAM to stop the Germans nicking it and went to the ticket kiosk. 10 BAM. By the way, it's always 1 BAM = 0.5 Euro. Doesn't vary. It was a nice if short 'museum', with a couple of sections of tunnel, some rather low res videos in rooms, and very light explanatory text on some posters. I suggest reading up on the whole affair beforehand as you'll get more out of it than going in cold.

Speaking of dogs, this is the first country I've started to see dogs just standing in the middle of roads. They have neither chased me nor given me rabies yet but this wasn't happening further north and I've seen about 3 instances today, one where I had to take avoiding action as he just nonchalantly looked at me as if to say "I can't believe Boris's list [me: I assume i'm talking peerages here] is being accepted." Neither can I buddy, neither can I.

The whole walking round thing was done in about half an hour. I bought a couple of as-2D-as-possible (packing) trinkets from the gift shop and got back on the bike. I'd spotted a couple of potential lunch places on my way out, and stopped at one called Lamb about half way back. I had chicken biriani and conversation with a young waiter guy who was pretty good at English. The view from the outdoor'ish restaurant part was of the aforementioned amazing river and hills and mountains scene. As luck would have it I finished my lunch by the time the first smokers sat behind me so my meal wasn't ruined. Smoking. The aliens will never believe it if they see it.

Back on bike, "good luck!" from some random dude sat in his car next to my bike with his door almost touching my pannier, and off I went. There's an odd mix of cars here. A huge number of mk3 and mk4 Golfs. Literally, it's like GSs in the Alps! Then there are some nice old Merc 190E and other rare classics. After that we have some old rubbish, and then a bunch of modern fancy stuff like at home. What amazes me though is even with new looking stuff I see smoke puffing out their exhausts when they even gently accelerate, never mind their hilarious overtakes everywhere and anywhere. It's as if any catalytic converters or DPFs get removed at the border! You'll notice it if you're a car or two back and feel like you're breathing smog. I don't understand why there are so many modern cars making such visible emissions.

I got back to the hotel mid afternoon and that was the end of that. I've no desire to 'walk into town' and suffer the tourist thing again. I'll keep my 0800 memory of an empty Mostar. I'll probably go in early tomorrow morning so I can get enough BAM to pay the hotel bill. Not sure what I'll do with the rest of the day. Srebrenica is too far unfortunately. It'd be a 9 hour day at least. I've got no other Bosnian destinations on my big planning map, so maybe I'll try and get off the main commute roads and see what else is out there. I'm looking forward to getting to Montenegro and a nice quiet place. This hotel is worse than a Lenny Henry job and dirtier than his mind.

Mostar.


This is the bridge. It's quite slippy stone hence the annoying ridges.


What a view.



Bridge.




Sarajevo tunnel.


Some knowledge.



Bike.


View from Lamb restaurant.


Day Fifteen (30th June)

Bit of a rest day, mostly planning and internetting. First thing though, nice and early, I headed for a cafe I'd found online that looked great. It was on the west side of town, where I read that there is still an ethnic/arbitrary split between Bosnians on the wast side of town and Serbians on the west. But then there was a university type affair there too which must have everyone.

Anyway, on my way to the cafe I walked through a park that had a statue of Bruce Lee. I had hoped it was a park full of Bruce statues but failed to find Forsyth or Willis. The cafe itself was great, sat outside, quite studenty/young so no smoking was apparent, and the cheesecake thing I had was great.

Oh! I did go back into town too, but only over the first bridge, the crooked bridge, and to the place I'd actually wanted to stay, Kriva Cuprija hotel. I had lunch there instead. And it was amazing! After my first lunch effort I assumed all places were just mehh, but this was my kind of poncy place. And also almost empty so I could chat with the waiter. I wanted to try something local, something with an animal involved, then he mentioned something something "slow cooked" and bam, that was me sorted! Slow cooked veal with some damn fine little roast potatoes sat on some green… stuff. I dunno, maybe peppers and other things but cooked to be awesome. Then a dessert of Bosnian baklava which was as great as I could hope for. Plus a coffee which was actually properly made, and finally some grape based spirit I forgot to get the name of. Whew! After mostly disdaining the entire town this one experience got me pretty much daining the heck out of it. Or that little bit at least. If ever I come to Bosnia again i'll stay there and spend way too much money.

Nice walk.



Bruce.


Cheesecake.


Impressive football team thing.


I loved this restaurant.




To be continued...