Chioggia gets my vote.

Leaving this venue on Saturday; having enjoyed a second visit just as much as the year before last. It floats my boat and gets a vote as the most fascinating destination of all those places Helen and me have visited over the many years of  travel together. A place where we find it easy to park and forget the Morgan for the whole duration of our stay, and soak up the maritime atmosphere, day after day in a dozen different ways. The street market, the festival. The fast food bars. The bewildering choices of dish on paper platters. I have not enjoyed filleted sardines with frits quite so much as here sat beside the fishing boats.
Sottomarina is where our room is located, sandwiched between the harbour and a wide beachfront spit. A fifteen minute walk links across two road bridges to the island.

The tendency towards thinking all should visit our Shangri La is one of those failings common enough that no apology need be made here. With Venice on the doorstep and such welcoming people, well fed on a rich diet of fish and sunshine, and somewhere to hopefully return to.  Packing up the Morgan, front suspension freshly greased and tank fuelled, we head for Castellan in a few hours time. Sadly we will miss the height of the Fisherman's Festival. Street party tables set out and costume dressed diners are seen enjoying the mediterranean diet. I am offered a taster, gratis free from a stall holder, of Grilled sardines - plus a plastic cup of the most enjoyable wine tasted for a long long time. I donated a couple of euros and earned myself an extra sardine.

A parade through town, a few sardines, a glass of wine and Helen for company

From Modena to Chioggia

Before leaving Modena and a light breakfast, I strolled up the lane past a cattle market, beside cornfields and waste ground close to a railway. From a thicket came a chorus of Nightingales - I hope the sound comes through on this video - I can't tell because the speakers of my laptop no longer function. (I need to toss away my Toshiba). Play to listen not to watch !

Near Modena

The stopover accommodation chosen was excellent, but the resultant Motorway Mog north east to our farthest destination Chioggia was hectic with Friday's holiday traffic, and not for those of a nervous disposition. Seriously cut up on a couple of occasions, either one could have terminated the whole adventure. The instinctive sideways glance of this ex-motorcyclist writer led to appropriate avoiding action. At least two wrong turns were later made, despite a map and GPS. One road lead us along beside the river Po but soon we find it barred - under repair. A final upset in efforts to traverse the port to reach our hotel was caused by the busy Saturday street market. Happily resolved with a wide circuit over several bridges and at least half a dozen roundabouts. The Morgan is now tucked up once more against the possibility of thunderstorms.
Here we stop for a few days  

Later we shall make for France and the wedding of Max's sister. Max being the father of our first grandson Leon Joseph - we are missing him already - only 14 months old and still recovering from his first haircut. Meanwhile our ferry trips to Venice are planned subject to a good weather window.

   Bicycle Roulette often sees toddlers and  little children balance behind mum or dad or granddad or grandma, propelled under battery power.

Wake up time after Sunday's siesta

Warm thundery rain heads our way

Tree trunks and mast poles

 Chioggia has many waterways

Weeding out the nets

Briancon to Modena

The scenic exit from Briancon was taken over Col de Montgenevre but the col itself, being a ski resort, is grossly over-developed for such a beautiful mountain location that has green areas of woodland steeply sloping up to snow capped peaks. Across the border the road drops down to Sestriere. A stroll up and down the main street and an interlude over coffee sets us in relaxed mood to enjoy the onward journey.  Helen is apprehensive - with just cause - the further we go the heavier the traffic becomes. The A55, A21/E70 takes us towards Asti, E70 past Piacenza, then A1/E35 to Modena.
The overnight stop at Ai Prati B&B. was a little tricky to find, but with the help of the local fuel station manager the farmhouse was soon located. A far cry from the previous night stop. Nice location, a clutch of  hostelry awards, and a warm welcome with the best of facilities. For some unknown reason the trip adviser booking had not properly registered and we were lucky to find a vacant room.  Modena B&B.

Only another 115 miles to go before reaching our first destination - Licorice and Lemon real flavour Ices at Chioggia, the fascinating working port and resort forming the foot of the lagoon where Venice lies, no more than an hours ferry ride away. 

Sestriere looked inviting and the coffee shop shown left is found to be quite reasonable 

A brisk walk up this hill gets our circulation moving

Spot the beehives on the unguarded balcony.  Sadly no bees seen using them

Close to Modena here we are Overnight - Best of the rest  and where the pair of us have sunk deep into a luxurious suite that can be described as exceptional. There is the sound of fast electrified trains nearby and the farm dogs barking at feeding time but that is more than compensated for by the rural backdrop of cornfields and Walnut trees outside our first floor double window.

Venice, Chioggia, Modena, Castellane & Sanaray

The anticipation is building for another - shake out, bottom out, heads down, Mog off : to the sun.
M.O.T. passed without any advisories, my servicing routine carried out and now the gathering together of some little bits that might just come in useful.
Plymouth is to be our port of departure with Brittany Ferries getting us to Roscoff at 8 am after an overnight crossing.
Looking forward to a Leos' Pitsa once we get to Chioggia and the chance to put a newish camera to good use along the way.
Overall we expect to cover in the region of 3,000 miles so the Wanner grease gun will be amongst the tool roll, together with the obligatory tub of Molybdenum grease to keep this 4/4 rolling along sweetly.

Landscape we leave behind 

Chill winds and ice patches not expected

Map Itinery

Gannat - Roscoff - Plymouth - Home

Final leg now almost complete at the harbour side Bellevue Hotel.
Helen likes the Morgan fuel tank to stay half full. I am relieved it's not a Bugatti Veyron with it's tank-full gone in 12 minutes at full throttle (given the chance). Stopping every 6 minutes would kill any motoring joy in no time at all.
The Gannat half-way stop  was very comfortable and a welcome rest:

To recap on our recent motor trip extra images here on google+..

Chioggia I would most like to re-visit

The chioggia fishing fleet shown here is just a very  small part

Chioggia farming the sea and the lagoon.

Arrivederci Chioggia - Bonjour Vars

Sad to leave this venue, flavours and fun loving people. The Pizza and the ice cream is delicious. The hotel better that we had hoped for, free bicycle hire, secure parking, clean and well equipped with glimpses of the harbour, free wi/fi, and T/V. Family run  The Hotel at Sottomarina   gets a thumbs up from me !

Wandering along the wide street market today much of the goods available are at a better price in the local shops. So we bought a few gifts at the harbourside shop near to the hotel. Twice as nice and half the price. Amidst one market stall we spied Lofoten dried cod. Awful stuff that tastes as bad as it looks; but then  I fell for an even worse option, Calamari and oily chiplets from a market van. I would have been more satisfied with another liquorice and lemon ice cream. (real flavour with pips and chewy bits of lemon).

Coffee before we go & so sad to leave Chioggia

Chioggia sunset

Where boats are as common as cars

Reflections are always present here

Venice is just over the horizon

Early one morning  in dazzling bright colour

My watercolours never got to be used

This place I would love to re-visit

Leos Pizzas: sufficient for this evening, breakfast and the road ahead.

Chioggia awake

A busy fishing port as well as a holiday destination and  city of historic interest, our first day here is on foot, exploring the little alleyways and shops, architecture and waterfront with its myriad shape and size of vessel.
If Venice is sinking and in terminal decline then Chioggia must be its antithesis. The sole purpose is not focused just on tourism but also in a sustainable economy giving an air of confidence to the folk here.

Crossing lots of bridges today, including one too far.  Helen hurried over a very busy pedestrian crossing and I was left biding my time, when a young woman rushed to my aid, took me insistently by the elbow and accompanied me across; to Helen's great amusement I have to say.
This says less about me than it does about the kind Italian and her nation's outgoing nature. Quite delightful.

7 am and the commuter traffic is beginning to cross the bridge I am standing  on.

Stall holders and shop fronts just opening for business

Alley cats looking for fish scraps, Swallows and swifts looking for insects and me looking for best viewpoints

Quiet reflections

The water here is very slightly tidal; enough to cleanse and freshen it each day 

Venice ferry departure point 20 Euros return

Chimney pots with a purpose

Statuesque she surveys the scene

Colourful washing and colourful buildings this sunny Monday morning

Signs of life at the window - An arm reaches out out and hangs up another garment to dry

The tower bells ring but tell the hour in a blaze of misguided notes

The artists studio is within the arches to the right

The hills of Chioggia are only very little - up to the bridge then down again

Working boats plentiful - pleasure boats less so

By late afternoon the rain passed northwards and for the second time we sped all over the place on the free bicycles provided by our hotel more of which later. Suffice to say we are quite delighted and comfortable here and on day two we are exploring Italian ice cream flavours. Licorice and Lemon might seem an unlikely combination but this woke my taste buds with a jolt, sitting in the sun.  Alternating between the two, either cancels the other out and puzzles the tastebuds.

Fishing boats return near to the fish market.

Articulated lorries carry away the days' fish catch

One of  many footbridges

No gondolas in Chioggia

Pale sandstone guardians

On our hotel doorstep 

Grimaud to Chioggia

Motorway dashing across the top of Italy today we pass by Cannes ( no time for films), past Nice and Monte Carlo (no time for racing). The big race not due to start until 2 pm and we have no time to spare - it would have been nice to hear the exhaust noise from our motorway vantage point. Through the many tunnels along this stretch several exotic motors pass us by in the fast lane.  The sound they made was incredible. A pair of white Porsche's in close company, growled at one-another, throttles floored. Now there is something quite musical and certainly thrilling to hear in the song a couple of engines make, together like this;  and in a tunnel, quite special. 

Before Genoa the route takes us north towards Tortona, Cremona, Brescia and across to Verona, Padua and then south towards Chioggia. 

7 hours in the driving seat puts 480 miles behind us. The Toblerone bars melt to a sticky goo and Helen stays brave. Its ok for me - I have the wheel to hold and that's getting a bit sticky too.

The first impressions of Chioggia surpasses all expectations. In the hour before sunset the place is a buzz of activity. Worshippers are emerging from the church after evening prayer, bicycles and scooters are ridden erratically often overloaded with small dogs and / or children squeezed between two. One solo rider comes to grief at a pedestrian crossing but rises up unhurt from the tarmac.

The  Pizza cafe we select from a large number of open cafes;  Leo's Pizza's has a long stream of patient patrons waiting outside and inside. After half an hour of people watching the fascination grows. Our wait is eventually rewarded and we hot-foot it back to the hotel. Two days supply of delicious pizza and the best Helen has ever tasted.

 This culture is quite unlike that which we just left behind over the invisible border with France. Here we see a distinctly eastern Mediterranean people. Their features sometimes quite striking, lifted from some Etruscan vase.

At first light Monday morning I wake to the droning sound of a boat engine from across the water.

One of the reasons this venue was chosen was to see the subject of paintings by Australian watercolourist and author Joseph Zbukvic .  Hopefully we shall find a quiet corner to make our own marks on paper. (The above link is to a YouTube video of this artist demonstrating his method of working, but fast forward through the first few minutes to reach the actual demo).

Motorway station above Monte-Carlo

MonteCarlo on race day at 11am was too early to listen to the buzzing engines - not due to begin 'till 2 pm

A queue for the best Pizza in town at Leo's