Chioggia to Castellane and Gorge du Verdon

Eleven hours in the saddle albeit on nice green Morgan leather.  Helen and me did not arrive at Castellane until 4.30 pm damp and exhausted.
Four years since we came here last, where all is well and a friendly welcome at the gate.
We started out at 5.30 am. hoping to get the leg completed by early afternoon, but Padua once again set us a problem due to a couple of missed turns. Verona, Brescia, Milan, Tortona and Genoa were passed without incident further along the autoroute. The coastal E80 was jammed due to an accident causing a long wait. This section has notoriously expensive service stations best avoided.
Heading north onto the Route Napoleon and through Grasse the weather closed in and soon the drive became an obstacle course; avoiding standing and flooding water.
Most of the motorcyclists normally riding this way were seen to be holed up in the roadside cafes. Lightning flashed and vision became blurred, slowing down the pace somewhat. The cabin stayed reasonably dry, since the neoprene strips were fitted to the side-screen edges, and door jams closest to the windscreen.
On startup earlier the orange fault light self cancelled. The thing had come on, descending the high road earlier in the week, and presumed to be due to long descents. Also seen to right itself has been the mileometer trip LCD.  It reads 50,104 - so in my hands this Royal Ivory conveyance has covered about 43,000 miles and counting. Prolonged warmth beneath the dash seems to have successfully dried out moisture from a previous washer tube leak, long since fixed.

Next day dawned bright and the following pictures tell the story as the day unfolds.

The Gorge du Verdon under blue skies.

House Martins feed young in the terrace of mud nests seen at La Palud-sur-Verdon.

1921 Triumph a long way from home.

The gorge where a plentiful supply of Box tree wood fed the village industry at Aiquines. The making of petanque balls.  Seen on a noticeboard outside one of the several restaurants, the English translation describing Boxwood petanque ball manufacture caused me to chuckle. A script that would have graced  The Café René, the fictional café owned by René François Artois, one British sitcom character.

Plenty here to satisfy any spirit of adventure.  Vultures may be seen above the cliffs.

The loop road from La Palud-sur-Verdon D23 with wonderful viewpoints.  Best driven clockwise to complete the circuit one way system.

At Aiguines the sparrows enjoy handouts of jam tart

Aiguines: where the industry of Petanque ball manufacture flourished by use of local wood from the Gorge du Verdon.

Castellane - Explored and appreciated better the second time round

Ferrari 458 Italia Powered by a 562-hp V-8 mated to a seven-speed dual-clutch transmission and riding on an F1-inspired suspension, the mid-engined 458 is as pure a sports car as anything on the road.  We spot a bevy of these in close company following our route.

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