Wednesday 15th May 8th Day Arrival

Sorry folks for this being delayed, but of course once I got to my destination...... well back with friends and family.   Anyway it's now Saturday morning and I have a littele time to write the last bit of the story for the moment.

On thursday morning I really was up and at it good and early and having eaten in the hotel, I was on the road at 8:30 with a view to getting to PV by lunchtime.   I'd only ever come down fro France to PV either on a big bike or in a car before and had always used the Autostrade, which I'd forgotten cuts like a knife through all the mountains along the coast.  Tom Tom of course had different ideas and almost as soon as we had left Alessandria, turned off and pointed for the hills.

The next 100 miles were the most difficult yet on the journey as we climbed and dropped through continuous mountains pretty well the whole way, with the road and the weather getting worse the farther we went.   With 50 miles left to run I texted Grace to say I'd meet them at The Lord Byron for lunch at 1:15 and carried on.  By now the weather was turning pretty grotty with the roads running with water from previouse showers and the mountain mist reducing visibility to yards.  With sharp bends every few yards, the whole thing was becoming a bit of a struggle and yet again, I had set myself a deadline that I really didn't need to.  The prospects of them eating lunch without me was too much to bear so I sped on feeling less than safe on the wet twisty roads.

Eventually I arrived on the front at Portovenere outside the restaurant only 15 minutes behind schedule, which didn't seem bad after eight days of riding.  Grace was delighted to see me arrive safe, and dashed across with hugs and kisses.  Lovely to see her too.   After lunch I got back on the bike to ride the final 2 miles around to my cousin Ingrid's house and unbelievably with a matter of yards to go, with a large bang, the scooter expired by the side of the road.   The spark plug had unscrewed itself from the cylinder head, presumably it had been working towards this for hundreds of miles, and let go just before the final hill.

After I'd got it going again, I arrived at cousin Ingrid's where she and Grace had strung bunting round the terrace and adorned the railings with "YOU MADE IT".  Actually the wind had contrived to turn this into "YOU MAD TIT" which I think summed up everone's view of the trip.  Sparkling wine flowed and later a birthday cake with the worst singing candle any of us had ever heard.

Such a welcome fair brings tears to the eyes of your humble correspondent.

So that's the final bit of the story.  What to make of it all.   To me the journey, just as a journey was a total success.  I had set out to change a lifetime's habit of the end being the reason for the journey, into the journey being the reason and I have enjoyed pretty well every minute of it.   

If I'd been honest with myself and with you then I suppose I'd have put my chances of success at less than 50%.  How many of those who'se support I got at Miniaddicts the night before really thought I'd get there ?  Christine and Grace probably did, but I've been blagging them both for years and they just assume things happen.

The idea of the slow trip really worked, even when broken down by the side of the road, or being taken back to Ellesmere Port on the first day, If you can convince yourself that the journey itself is the reason, then the breakdown and holdup becomes part of the reason and not a distraction or irritation.  I know this is all getting a bit philosophical, but hey.

To those who have followed this missive, thanks for your support and comments, It's given me a real kick to hear from you all, either via the blog or through Grace and Christine.

Watch this space for next year's equally loopy idea, all suggestions welcomed

John & The Vespa