Chapter 7 - Onto Mugello

Austria is a relatively slim country and it wasn't long before we were approaching the out side. We had ridden for a couple of hours through superb scenery, high mountains with snow caps, pine lined roads twisting and turning (too much traffic though). We stopped just short of the border in a tourist pull in area all gravel, full of coaches, camera happy tourists and discarded cigarette butts..

It was obviously a popular spot for bikers to have a smoke break etc. We parked up and sparked up, I had a quick glance at the map (which was luckily in my posession, the other two eschewing the need for one, but I had smugly noticed the absence of any reference to the bullshit sheaf of AA instructions on Eddie's part).
Onwards across the border, through the Brenner pass and int Italy. It was about midday.

A quick tyre check, bungee tension OK, enough gas and we were off again.

Phil and Eddie leapt into the steady stream of traffic and were gone, disappearing aroung the first corner already looking for overtaking opportunities. I could have pulled out after them but didn't fancy being flattened by the weight of traffic steamrollering down the road. It seemed like an age before I managed to nip into the metal snake. I knew both Phil and Eddie probably wouldn't notice my absence, they would only be interested in what was in front of them and what needed overtaking. It was a sort of unwritten rule that we were all obliged to keep up with each other. It was my job to catch them up. We all knew where we were going and when they did notice my absence they should ease the pace a little to allow me to catch up.

They must have treally put the hammer down, because I was getting quite lary weaving in and out of the traffic thinking I'll see them round the next corner, but no, they had gone.

A short while after it was decision time, the signs pointed me to a slip road which would take me onto the main autoroute leading me to the Brenner Pass. Still no sign of the others, perhaps they would be at the gates to the Pass?, still no time to procrastinate or ponder, no opportunity to pull over, had to go for it, so down the slip road I went with no sign of Phil and Ed.

As I accellerated off the slip road (by now at least 20 klicks from the last stop) I thought that if they didn't want to stop they would at least ease their pace a bit. Time to get behind the screen and play the big video game. One eye on the whirring dials and one eye on the road ahead praying that the Old Bill weren't about.

I had to re-entry back to relative earth speed when the toll barrier loomed which was the gateway through the Brenner Pass. Surely they would be on the other side of this, if they hadn't noticed my absence by now stationary and rummaging for grubby coinage something must have gone awry. Eddie would almost certainly be chain smoking on the other side. They weren't there, no sign, absence of TL-age

This was bad news, A it meant the bastards were quicker than I thought (which is no comfort to a vain aero space age warrior), they had gone a different way or they had just carried on expecting me to catch up. The only unplanned bit was where were we gonna stay when we got close to Mugello still another six hours away. 'Fuck it' time to get in touch, they both had mobile phones on board. I in my utter confidence prior to the trip decided I didn't need one, si I found a phone booth in a nearby cafe/auberge and dialled them up. Aftre three attempts at contact from the poxy payphone I slammed the phone down in frustration and decided to ride on. Whatever happened they would have to come this way and if somehow they were behind me they would come across me, they wouldn't be hanging about thats for sure.

The Brenner pass is a major gateway to the lowlands of Northern Italy when you leave the mountains and once again the scenery did not disappoint. I managed to drink it all in whilst heading for Bozen where once again the traffic strted to build up. I forgot about my wayward companions, striking out nomad like for a while, spending the next hour or so high speed filtering between the slow moving traffic heading South. It was at least eighty miles or so before I learnt the reason why. It was also the gateway to the North Italian lake district, all the camper wagons and fat touring cars turned right at signs for Lake Delgardo, junction passed and the road opened up again. Time to try and raise 'TL' and 'Fast' again, fuck knows where they were by now but it had to be done, the situation was turning messy.

I pulled into an Agip filling station for juice and found a phone that would take a credit card and charge me bizarrely in American dollars. With the credit card at least it meant I could keep trying until I got through to speak to them (unlikely) or leave a message.

Thank god for the Dollar charging scenario, the Lire was a nightmare currency and I was down to my last thousand or so (which equated to about fourpence or something meaningless and rediculous) woefully inadequate local funds for an embarkation into international sattelite bouncing mobile phone wizardry.

The first call I made produced a ringing tone then cut me off. I vowed to be patient, trying to decipher the hieroglyphics in the booth and try again. Same result. Time for some radical bullshitting. I rang the international operator and told her that the poxy phone was haemorrhaging my dosh and demanded that she try for me. Seconds later I was miraculously talking to Phil, who was filling up ironically.

Bingo!! I was a bit pissed off with them for fucking off into the blue yonder and explained where I was. They were approx eighty miles behind me on the same road (quite how we didn't notice each other en route I don't know).

I told them where I was. Look out for a massive blue roadsign saying 30KMs to Verona and then shortly afterwards the Agip filling station off the slip road. 'I'll be in there, it's about an hour away'

It was easy and straightforward, just keep coming, read the road. I settled down to eat Italian ice cream, smoke and study the map in the pleasant afternoon sunshine.