The Golden Van

Friday, July 15, 2011

July Fifteenth #2

Mangrove heaven. I love these places, all tree limbs and water and no dirt, rising straight up out of the sea like survivors of some catastrophe. Instead they are ecosystems all their own, and untenable for people.

The author of these pictures, GarytheTourist, a long way away from his natural habitat in the greenery and bucolic hills of Tennessee:

Thanks to Gary for the use of his pictures while I'm away on vacation.
Cheers,
Conchscooter.

Il Gran Sasso D'Italia Part Two

So there we were at last report riding our BMWs through the mountains of south central Italy trying to find lunch in the Gran Sasso National Park.

We found our way, Giovanni my wife and I to a small village called Castel del Monte (castle of the mountain) where we stopped so I could get gas, there was none in the park of course, which offers no services at all for some reason, and Giovanni could make a call and we could all get lunch.

Traveling with Giovanni means stopping to answer the phone as a matter of course. He is Terni's busiest cardiologist and in a city of 120,000 that means a lot of patients who always expect him to be available in his private practice. By the end of our ride through the mountains with no cell reception (another reason he found to lambaste the entire Abruzzo region of Italy- backward and southern) he had thirty unanswered calls and a dozen text messages.

I was starting to get pissed off at the Abruzzi too. The picture above I took at a barbecue joint where they put the trash and recycling bins, overflowing of course right across the middle of the fabulous view of the mountains instead of hidden in back...the Abruzzi would be great if the were no Abruzzesi, people from Abruzzi, Giovanni grumbled. Castel del Monte:

I like to post food pictures in the restaurants where we eat but this place pissed me off from the start. It is unfortunate but in places of low tourist interest when my wife and I come into a room and speak English heads turn. They turn even harder in sudden double takes when I speak with the waitresses in perfect Italian but most professional people collect themselves enough to affect not to notice. The woman at this restaurant affected to follow what I was saying as people at other tables threw us sly glances, but when I asked for water I got none. When I asked for dipping oil I might as well have been speaking Urdu and when I asked for roast potatoes I got fucking salad. The food was great but my mood was foul. I joined Giovanni in despising Abruzzo, the region and it's inhabitants. And he still couldn't get a cell signal. "Va fa un culo l'Abruzzi," he muttered. A pity because the place is quite lovely.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

July Fifteenth #1

View from the Galleon. These are the views of key West only visitors get to enjoy. Thanks to GarytheTourist for his pictures while I'm in Italy with my family.

Thursday, July 14, 2011

Sweet 16

I had to get a ride across town to pick up my motorcycle and Eleonora was delegated to do the job, with her Vespa 150. You drive she said. No you drive I said and she was nothing loathe.

I must have looked like a circus bear perched on the back but the Vespa took off with a will across town. She sliced and diced the traffic mercilessly, cars gave way to the waif on the scooter and smart they were too as she wasn't stopping for anyone.

Eleonora is the youngest of Giovanni's two children, 16 and bright Asa button. She studies hard is self motivated and gets things done. All of which makes his father proud of course, but that she went off on her own to get her motorcycle license makes him proudest of all. It is the irony of genetics that his son, 24 and studying law in Rome, has no interest in motors at all. Giovanni practically had to get on his knees to get Michele to agree to buy a car, for the law student riding the train to and from Terni works just fine. He is not his father's son, clearly.

Elly is entirely at home in two wheels.

Her parents were discussing the fact that in a couple of years she will be eligible to move up from the 125cc category but Giovanni was adamant she isn't ever going to get a motorcycle.

Eleonora likes to get her way and my money is on her. I'm wondering who it is that makes a motorcycle strong enough to stand up to her iron will.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

July Fourteenth #3

The cormorant, known to some rather derisively as a duck is actually a marvel of a bird. It can dive deep and at speed to catch it's lunch from the air. It isn't well equipped with oils to allow it to dive but that in turn requires it to dry out its feathers which is why you will see them sitting on posts and markers over the water spreading their wings in adoration of the sun. Photo by GarytheTourist who is letting me use his pictures while I'm on vacation spreading my wings.

Il Gran Sasso D'Italia Part One

Italians call it simply The Big Stone (sasso means literally stone) and when you show up at this National Park on your BMW you are in Colorado/Italy all of a sudden.

I have to confess the R1200 ST is my kind of motorcycle and I'm really enjoying riding it. It's powerful but not crazy with a decent gearbox and ABS brakes of which I am still not too fond. I just don't like feeling the brake pedal push up against my foot when the bike decides it's time. The riding position isn't too low, the bike feels light and easy to throw through the corners and the engine though powerful vibrates enough to let you know it's alive and still requires some swift gear changes to get the best out of the torque curve. All in all enormous fun and confidence building unlike the 170 Hp four cylinder monsters I've rented in the past.

The Gran Sasso tour was a blast, and we were at 5,000 feet on one of the hottest days of the year. which was all to the good though the sun was fierce and we got home looking like seasoned sailors.

The Gran Sasso is a gigantic peak, 10,000 feet tall in the Apennine mountains in Abruzzi. It's most recent claim to fame is the severe earthquake damage caused to the city of L'Aquila (The Eagle) and which has left the center of the city in ruins. As a result traffic winding through the suburbs was horrendous even on a Monday.

But beyond city limits the traffic melted away and you could count the number of cars on the road through the park on two hands. Some of the park roads were in not too bad shape some of them were awful with potholes cow pats and some sort of corrugated surface that attempted to crush my testicles on the fuel tank and rearrange my internal organs as I rode. Some of the road across the Piano Imperatore (The Emperor's Plain) was fantastic and straight and allowed speeds to 85 mph which created a nice cool breeze.

My wife rode with Giovanni on his R1200RT which is the touring model and thus more comfortable for the pillion, while I rode solo on the sport
"She never complains does she?" Giovanni said of his passenger, this from a man married to a high maintenance Italian Princess. He rides hard and fast and carrying a passenger evened the odds a bit for me who knew neither my motorcycle very well nor our roads at all and thus struggled to keep ahead of the dynamic duo.

On the main highway our top speed was 180kph/110mph but on the smaller roads passing is the trick to keeping up speed and through it all, passing on humps, across double lines between passed and oncoming cars she kept on grinning. She was not grinning when we reached Albergo Imperatore at the top of the park.

The ugly red lump of a hotel was closed, the bar was closed, the TOILETS were closed, the lady selling beer and sandwiches looked glum and said she was sorry. The parking lot was full of cars and there wasn't even a bench to sit on. The place looked like a dump.

This set Giovanni off on a rant about Italian inefficiency, the gruesome nature of every single person he's ever met from the Abruzzo region, their inability to help themselves and what the fuck, he needed to pee too, damnit. We tried to make a plan away from the wreck of the hotel.