The ferry system around the Med is amazing. We sat on the bike in the area designated for autos and watched as tractor-trailer truck after tractor-trailer truck was loaded onto the ferry. They went in by the tens and we were sure the ferry would sink with their weight. Then the line of cars loaded. Again we were directed up the ramp to the small vehicle area. Then we were directed to our cabin for the night.

At 6:30 the next morning we were unloaded onto Italian soil. Italian sounds kind of funny after listening to Turkish and Greek for so long. It also seems strange to walk into a highway gas station and find that the principle food item was a grilled ham and cheese sandwich and the favorite morning beverage is a shot of very strong espresso (Italian coffee).

 

From Brindisi we rode until we reached a small seaside village just north of Villa San Giovani where we would catch a ferry to Sicily; a short thirty minute ride. Seeking warmer climes than we so far encountered, we headed south and managed to find a hotel in Giardini-Naxos, a Greek settlement that dates back to the 5^th century BC and is now a major

Figure 1  Giardini-Naxos beach

we have encountered, most hotels, restaurants and attractions are closed for the season.

 

One of the reasons we had come to Italy was to see Mt Etna, the highest active volcano in Europe. The morning we left to ride to the summit was brilliantly clear and reasonably cool but we decided to dress warmly since we were going to climb to an altitude of over 1,900 meters or almost 6,300 feet.

As we climbed the twisting road we could feel the cold

Figure 2  Mt Etna with smoke plume

seep into our clothes. Then snow started to appear in the shaded areas of the woods and finally we were driving on roads with snow several feet high that had been plowed back by early morning workers clearing the way for holiday travelers. Huge piles of volcanic rock piled high as waste from the road construction finally gave way to a large parking area where we had an unobstructed view of the cone puffing out a steady stream of smoke.

 

As we drove away from Mt. Etna, the temperature climbed and the riding was incredibly fine. We had decided to head away from the tourist areas and ride across central Sicily towards Palermo. It seems that every town and village in Greece and Italy has a ruin of some sort and as much as we would liked to have stopped there is just no way. But at least in this section of Italy, there are roads with few other travelers, scenic and unspoiled. It is here that we prefer to travel and so

Figure 3  Sicily countryside

the decision was made. We would bypass all but a few tourist areas and go someplace where the ride would be open and free. But where to go?

I did want to see Pompeii and Janet wanted to see Vatican City. That would take care of Italy. What else was important? A must stop for me was Rennes Le Chateau in southern France at the church where documents were found that spawned the books Holy Blood Holy Grail and The Da Vinci Code.

On the way to Palermo we stopped in Enna, a city in central Sicily, Italy, and capital of the province of Enna, once called Castrogiovanni and is thought of as the navel of Sicily. Originally founded in the 14^th century, the city still has remains of buildings and monuments ruins that date from Byzantine and Norman rule.

As we drove away from Enna Janet remembered that we had forgotten our passports at the hotel (very expensive but then again we were in a tourist area). Fortunately I had the GPS on and was able to backtrack through the labyrinth of small cobblestone streets and alleys without getting lost. I was also able to quickly return to the road to Palermo.

 

The delay served us well. While we were riding several bikers passed us. Soon, we overtook them as they were parked on the side of the road, presumably waiting for others to join their Sunday ride. It wasn’t too long thereafter that one biker pulled along side and motioned for us to pull over. He was a member of the MotoGuzzi motorcycle group and did we want to join them and go to their meeting. "Sure."

We were welcomed by the group of about 50 bikes but is so often the case, only a few people speak any English and that makes any interaction with the people difficult and more often impossible. But the group treated us well and during the meeting, we were presented with a limited edition lithograph of a bike done by a well known artist and Janet was given a scarf that she could wear while riding. We also got a club sticker that is now on our bike (even though it is a Guzzi sticker J ).

The ferry from Palermo to Naples was the easiest boarding for us to date. We were allowed to board one and a half hours before sailing and rather than leaving at 10:00 or 12:00 at night, we were scheduled to go at 9:00. This ferry was so big that 40 foot tractor trailer trucks were able to turn around inside the cavernous hold.

 

As soon as we reached Naples, we headed south to Pompeii, the ancient city founded about 600 BC. It later became a Roman city. Perhaps Pompeii is most famous for its destruction in 79 AD by the eruption of Mt. Vesuvius that destroyed the entire area. Now the entire city is under restoration.

I had very mixed feelings walking through the city.

Certainly the restoration is remarkable and without the efforts of perhaps thousands of people who have worked to bring back the city to life but it somehow seemed artificial to me. And then when I found the International Restaurant smack in the middle of the restoration, it kind of killed the wonder that Pompeii once held for me. Don’t misunderstand me. Pompeii is a remarkable restoration and certainly worth the trip. It is just that my expectations and my experience didn’t quite match.

 

We arrived in Rome on a wet and chilly morning and with a little luck, the GPS and a few signs, we found the Vatican City. It didn’t bother me to stay with the bike while Janet went into St. Peter’s Basilica, a place she has wanted to see for many years. But we both agreed that we were far more interested in getting out of Rome and heading to Rennes Le Chateau and Spain than we were in staying and seeing some of the sights that this wonderful city has to offer.

I know that some will say we are crazy, that we missed and opportunity of a lifetime but that was our decision and as I sit here in the small French village of Limoux, I am happy to be away from the craziness of crowds, the traffic and the cost.

We did make one small concession to our decision to bypass tourist areas and that was Monaco, the small independent principality of Europe. The country is less than one square mile. The road leading down from Route 8, the Autoroute La Provincale, is a bikers dream if the bike has two wheels. But the new Flashy II has three wheels and in sharp right hand turns, the sidecar wheel has a tendency to lift off the road and unless controlled, will flip the bike over. This road has several very sharp hairpin turns and on more than one occasion I could feel the sidecar tire lift! Oh, the thrill, Ya!!

When we reached the bottom of the incline, there was what I believe to be the Casino. Of course there were signs saying "Do Not Enter" but how could we get good video of the place unless I went through. "Screw it," I said and went straight ahead. Janet was shooting away as we rounded the horseshoe drive but as I started back towards the main road, there was a policeman waving me towards him. I slowly approached and in English, he asked, "Don’t they have signs like this in Germany?" "I speak English" I said. Wrong answer! I’ll try another approach, "I’m from China." A really wrong answer!! He was getting angry and I was starting to feel a bit scared. "All I wanted to do was to get some good video," I said. Right answer.

He let me go with a warning that he would ticket me if I did it again. I promised and drove away with what we hope will be good film.

One thing that I have noticed is that because I have a BMW, most people assume that I am German. People often approach me speaking German and it often takes two or three tries at telling them I speak English before they even recognize that I am not answering in German.

We have been in Limoux for two nights and two days now. Yesterday we went to Rennes Le Chateau and were very disappointed to find it closed. However, they will open again on March 10^th and we will return sometime after we are finished with Spain, Morocco and wherever else out travels take us in Africa.

We will spend one more day here to get really rested and then head to Barcelona, Spain—less than 250 km from here. I want to have the bike serviced, including having my rear break looked at. I have lost it several times now, always when I have had to use it a lot going down steep grades like Mt. Etna and the approach to Monaco. Fortunately the front and sidecar disks work well so I have not been in any serious trouble but I do want it fixed.

Well that was the plan. I had put on my jacket, had helmet and disk in hand and was off to the internet café when I went outside to leave. I was greeted with freezing rain mixed with a little snow. I decided to wait.

The next morning greeted us with about two inches of snow on the ground, 100 km/h winds and cold. We packed the bike and were off. SLOWLY. The road was greasy with a combination of slush and an occasional dry patch from previous cars and trucks. The paper map and the Garmin GPS map both show a relatively straight road leading out of the Pyrenees to Perpignan, the last major town in France where we would pick up the A7 to Barcelona.

In fact, this road follows a narrow canyon that twists and turns and is itself a narrow road barely permitting two vehicles to safely pass. The road would have been a wonderful ride had it not been for the packed snow, frozen slush and ice caused the bike to occasionally slip and slide (ever so slightly) giving me small moments of terror. Well, not real terror but each time the bike broke free from the surface it was like a little adrenalin boost.

All of a sudden we were clear of the snow, the temperature had warmed a bit, and even though the high winds were still cold, the roads were dry and we were heading south on the A7 to Barcelona.

At one pit stop Janet and I stopped at the café for a break. Her jacket was open and her face turned toward the sun at the outdoor table. "This is more like it; I think I’ll stay for a while." We did stay for a short while and soon after we started we were welcomed to Spain by a passing Sign. The EU makes travel so much easier than eastern countries.