The Italian Job. 2011.
THE IDEA
It was two years ago when I made a conscious decision to attempt the ride to the island of Elba in Tuscany.
As the proposed date grew closer, there were a few thoughts in my head repeatedly saying the same thing. Are you mad? Have you forgotten about your chronic bad back ? Can you really afford it? Will your scooter be up to the job?
After all, this is no IOW run. This is a round trip of at least 2,300 miles through Belgium, France and Italy on busy toll roads, competing with continental juggernauts, riding through tunnels up to 3km long, viaducts 400 metres high, steep mountain passes, poor quality road surfaces and weather conditions that could bake, drown or blow you of the road.
Time after time the thought that overruled all these negative vibes was that this was possibly a last chance at attempting something that I had always wanted to do and could later appreciate for my own personal sense of achievement. Riding this kind of distance on my Lambretta was the ultimate objective for me!!
As the proposed date grew closer, there were a few thoughts in my head repeatedly saying the same thing. Are you mad? Have you forgotten about your chronic bad back ? Can you really afford it? Will your scooter be up to the job?
After all, this is no IOW run. This is a round trip of at least 2,300 miles through Belgium, France and Italy on busy toll roads, competing with continental juggernauts, riding through tunnels up to 3km long, viaducts 400 metres high, steep mountain passes, poor quality road surfaces and weather conditions that could bake, drown or blow you of the road.
Time after time the thought that overruled all these negative vibes was that this was possibly a last chance at attempting something that I had always wanted to do and could later appreciate for my own personal sense of achievement. Riding this kind of distance on my Lambretta was the ultimate objective for me!!
The People and their Machines
By January 2011 our little party of nine people was sorted.
Myself on a Lambretta Rapido 225cc GP with NK Exhaust and 30mm Dellorto Carb.
Tony Haigh from Pontefract on a Lambretta MB Racetour kitted SX 225cc with a JL4 pipe and 30mm Dellorto Carb. Ian and Linda Watts from Normanton on Lambretta Mugello GP 225cc with 42mm Clubman and 26mm Dellorto Carb.
Kelvin Wetherell from Brieghton on a GP TS1 225cc with NK exhaust and Mikuni 35mm Carb.
Stewart Mitchell from Pontefract on a Vespa GTS 300 and Pietro Risidi from Bradford on a Honda Shadow Cruiser 750cc motor bike. Pietro would be a god send as we arrived in his home country. Last but by no means least, on the homeward journey would bethe legendary Tesco Pete or Peter Fay and his wife Sandra from Holme on Spalding Moor. Pete would be riding his TS1 225cc with MB Devtour and Mikuni 35mm Carb one way. which would be kept in the Support Van for the journey home, but as the story unfolds this scenario would change.
Myself on a Lambretta Rapido 225cc GP with NK Exhaust and 30mm Dellorto Carb.
Tony Haigh from Pontefract on a Lambretta MB Racetour kitted SX 225cc with a JL4 pipe and 30mm Dellorto Carb. Ian and Linda Watts from Normanton on Lambretta Mugello GP 225cc with 42mm Clubman and 26mm Dellorto Carb.
Kelvin Wetherell from Brieghton on a GP TS1 225cc with NK exhaust and Mikuni 35mm Carb.
Stewart Mitchell from Pontefract on a Vespa GTS 300 and Pietro Risidi from Bradford on a Honda Shadow Cruiser 750cc motor bike. Pietro would be a god send as we arrived in his home country. Last but by no means least, on the homeward journey would bethe legendary Tesco Pete or Peter Fay and his wife Sandra from Holme on Spalding Moor. Pete would be riding his TS1 225cc with MB Devtour and Mikuni 35mm Carb one way. which would be kept in the Support Van for the journey home, but as the story unfolds this scenario would change.
The Support Van
We, that is those that chose to go to Elba, put an internal bid via a mate, for an 1999 Ford Transit ex Mines Rescue Van at Kellngley Pit. As the bid was for only £350, we didn't think we had any chance of winning it, but surprisingly as it happened we did !! It was yellow, abit rusty round the arches, but with 63,000 miles on the clock and a full service history, it was perfect for our adventure. I got my brother to service it, change the cam-belt, check the brakes and it was ready for the road. We all chipped in to get it legal, and agreed that once it had served its purpose. we would sell it and make some money to pay for all our initial costs for Elba. Sorted!!
Time to Go
We arranged to meet at 230pm at Howden Filling Station, Everything had gone to plan, apart from the fact that Kelvin had unfortunately had to drop out for health reasons. He had been a big part of setting up this event and would be sorely missed.
I had also only got my scoot back the night before from Alan and Arthur of Foxhat Scooters in Acomb, so timing was abit tight to say the least.
Anyway we eventually all met up and were on our way to to Ferry port in Hull at 300pm. The journey begins!!
I had also only got my scoot back the night before from Alan and Arthur of Foxhat Scooters in Acomb, so timing was abit tight to say the least.
Anyway we eventually all met up and were on our way to to Ferry port in Hull at 300pm. The journey begins!!
Hull to Zeebrugg
We arrived in good time at the ferry port. Me in the Van with mine and Pete's scoot in the back, Ian and Linda on their GP called the Italian Job, Tony on his SX, Stu on his Vespa GTS and Pietro on his Honda. As is customary on these Ferry crossings, I handed out the obligatory Pork Pies to everyone present, kindly donated by Wayne Jackson of Jackson's Butchers of Sheburn.
Prior to the frustratingly slow boarding on to the Pride of Brugge Ferry, HM customs felt obliged to check my van over for contraband and drugs. Glad to say they found nothing.
So onto the ferry in glorious sunshine, a few beers, bit of a talk about tomorrow and then it was off to bed. Not sure wether there was three snoring rottweilers in my cabin or was it just the vibration of the engine, Anyway I didnt get much sleep. Maybe it was the anticipation or apprehension of what the following day would bring as we headed south towards Elba.
Prior to the frustratingly slow boarding on to the Pride of Brugge Ferry, HM customs felt obliged to check my van over for contraband and drugs. Glad to say they found nothing.
So onto the ferry in glorious sunshine, a few beers, bit of a talk about tomorrow and then it was off to bed. Not sure wether there was three snoring rottweilers in my cabin or was it just the vibration of the engine, Anyway I didnt get much sleep. Maybe it was the anticipation or apprehension of what the following day would bring as we headed south towards Elba.
Zeebrugge to Chalon
A fine day greeted us as we headed off the ferry for the 207 mile ride to Chalon. The idea was to get to a fuel station, unload my scoot from the van and load Tony's SX into it, as he would be driving on the first day. It was not a good start as I managed to take the wrong turning and get us lost within half a mile of the ferry, but we soon got our bearings and found the transportzone Total garage. After a overly detailed suggestion from a waiting British HGV Driver on which way to go through Belgium, we were on our way south heading for Lille past Brugges. We decided to stop every 60 miles to fill up. This suited me fine, as my back had had enough by that distance. Into France, past Lille, then Saint Quentin, we were now nearing Reims or "Ranc" as its pronounced. Ten miles off Reims and Ians GP packed up and came to a halt. No spark from the stator meant that it went staight into the van and ian would ride Tony's SX thirty miles south to Chalon and the hotel. There we would sort it out. Unfortunately a mile further down the tollroad and my GP also came to a stop. Same problem. No spark from the stator. Unbelievable!! Anyway Petes TS1 came out of the van and my scoot joined ians scoot with Ians Linda in the front with Tony.
So me and Ian rode off on unfamilar scoots to our first night stop followed by Pietro on his Honda and the van. At this stage we didnt know were Stu Mitch was on his GTS 300.
We reached Chalon, checked in and then started repairing our scoots in the hotel carpark. We replaced Ian's stator and got it up and running. Not so the case with mine. The crank was "spun" or twisted. The bearings were okay but the stator was fit for the bin as the flywheel had rubbed away the stator exterior due to the oscilating effect of the twisted crank. Gutted!!
A quick call to my mate Pete Fay in East Yorkshire and it was decided to fit another crank in Elba. Pete would bring a couple of cranks on Sunday and until then I would have to slum it and ride Pete's TS1 to the island and my GP would have to stay in the van until we arrived.There was nothing left to do, but tidy up, book a taxi and head into Chalon town for something to eat and for me to take on board some alchohol to forget about the crankshaft problems. By now Stu had turned up on his GTS, having lost us north of Reims and having had a small run in with local highway Gendarmes.
Chalon centre was a lovely place with open bars and restuarant areas. We ate well, drank abit, then it was back to the hotel for some kip before the next long day on the toll roads to Villefranche sur Soane.
So me and Ian rode off on unfamilar scoots to our first night stop followed by Pietro on his Honda and the van. At this stage we didnt know were Stu Mitch was on his GTS 300.
We reached Chalon, checked in and then started repairing our scoots in the hotel carpark. We replaced Ian's stator and got it up and running. Not so the case with mine. The crank was "spun" or twisted. The bearings were okay but the stator was fit for the bin as the flywheel had rubbed away the stator exterior due to the oscilating effect of the twisted crank. Gutted!!
A quick call to my mate Pete Fay in East Yorkshire and it was decided to fit another crank in Elba. Pete would bring a couple of cranks on Sunday and until then I would have to slum it and ride Pete's TS1 to the island and my GP would have to stay in the van until we arrived.There was nothing left to do, but tidy up, book a taxi and head into Chalon town for something to eat and for me to take on board some alchohol to forget about the crankshaft problems. By now Stu had turned up on his GTS, having lost us north of Reims and having had a small run in with local highway Gendarmes.
Chalon centre was a lovely place with open bars and restuarant areas. We ate well, drank abit, then it was back to the hotel for some kip before the next long day on the toll roads to Villefranche sur Soane.
Chalon to Villefranche
Another sunny day dawned on us. After a quick continental breakfast of croissants and coffee, we were on the road for 270 miles to Villefranche by 9 oclock. Pietro drove the Van, with me, Tony, Stu and Ian and Linda leading the Van. We were in Champagne country and it was quite similar to the Yorkshire Wolds at first, but as we past Troyes in the direction of Dijon, it became more hilly and spectacular. Pete's TS1 rode well as you would expect from a TS1. Usually we were motoring at a steady
55mph, with Linda and Ian leading the way on their Muggello GP. We stopped every 60 miles for a fuel stop, as Ian only had a standard tank. Also we stopped to rest my bad back. By 5 oclock we exiting the tollroad heading for the campanile hotel. Unfortunately I had to have a frank debate with the toll booth operator, as I had been charged three times for the TS1. Stupid French bureacracy dictated that I must fill a form in and await a refund in Euros to my home address rather than them pay me the difference there and then.
Anyway we made our way to the hotel, booked in, checked the scoots over, cleaned up and made our way down the road to a chinese resturant before retiring to bed. Unfortunately one of the snoring rottwielers, Stu, was sharing a room with me, so I didnt get much sleep.
55mph, with Linda and Ian leading the way on their Muggello GP. We stopped every 60 miles for a fuel stop, as Ian only had a standard tank. Also we stopped to rest my bad back. By 5 oclock we exiting the tollroad heading for the campanile hotel. Unfortunately I had to have a frank debate with the toll booth operator, as I had been charged three times for the TS1. Stupid French bureacracy dictated that I must fill a form in and await a refund in Euros to my home address rather than them pay me the difference there and then.
Anyway we made our way to the hotel, booked in, checked the scoots over, cleaned up and made our way down the road to a chinese resturant before retiring to bed. Unfortunately one of the snoring rottwielers, Stu, was sharing a room with me, so I didnt get much sleep.
Villefranche to Dignes la Bains
The next day was warm and sunny and everyone assembled for the 217 miles to Digne. Linda and Ian drove the van and we were on the road before 9 oclock. Once more we rode the toll road south through Lyon. A big city were we had to have our wits about us, as many sliproads converged onto our route south. Over bridges, alongside rivers and surrounding towns we headed for Valence. There we would happily leave the motorway and the demonic artic trucks far behind us. Passing european articulated trucks in the outside lane is hard going even if you are on a TS1. Tony on his MB Racetour SX went onto reserve passing these monsters. Not nice as many scooterists know too well. Eventually we regrouped and left the tollroad behind heading in the direction of St Die. Nice name. We were now on good A roads and myself, Tony followed by Stu, Pietro and the van moved off at a fair pace for a midday rest at Die. Too well it would seem because on reaching Die, I was subjected to chastisment from Linda. She had observed that myself and Tony were travelling far too fast and that they had had a job to keep up with us in the van. Nothing like a womans hot toungue I guess. Having been told off and nicely rested in Die, it was time to fill up and head for the town of Sisteron. This is when the travelling got a little bit more exciting. We were now starting to climb up into the foothills of the Alpes. The scoots were going well and the scenery was spectacular to say the least. We Passed the villages of Luc-en- Digis, Beaurieres, Aspres and Serries, before climbing the Col de Cabre at a hieght of 1304 metres. Not a great hieght, but what fun we had traversing the cambers and acute bends that made their way up and over the top in the direction of Eyguirans and then Sisteron. The views were mind blowing. Apart from Tonys Fuel tap link breaking, we had no mechanical problems although we did temporarily lose some of our party before meeting up at a filling station in the town of Sisteron. Off course by now every time we stopped, the local natives were curious as to what we were on and why we were there. They all seemed quite friendly though. From Sisteron to Digne, the roads improved but were fairly busy. Once again we arrived at our hotel around 5 oclock, did the usual checks ready for the next day, cleaned up and headed into town for refreshments. Nice town Digne although the campanile hotel was alot to be desired.
Digne to Lavagne via Nice.
We started with a stunning ride through the snow topped mountains. Ian's CDI Unit on his GP packed up early on into our journey. Quickly replacing it, we continued on the 248 mile route to Lavagne in italy. We dropped 90 miles through breath taking scenery in the direction of Nice. After a misguided tour of the airport at Nice by me, we managed to work our way along the main foreshore road in the seaside resort. We took in the atmosphere, stunning blue mediterrean waters greeted us on our right, oppulent buildings and promenades to our left with beautiful people displaying their wealth everywhere. Abit like Filey in August I guess. We parked up briefly, to take in the atmosphere, before heading out of the town, under a very long tunnel that took us up to the coast road that would lead into Italia. We stopped for refreshments at the last french service station before italy that overlooked Monaco. Once again the views below and above our location were stunning. We noticed the big Villas built into the mountains that overlooked the mediterrean and Monaco. They were definitely worth a bob or two. We would like to have taken in the scene longer, but we had places to get to.
I have a friend in France who said that I would really enjoy the coastal toll road into Italy. I am afraid I couldnt agree with him at all. Between Nice and the port of Piombino, we rode through 195 tunnels and twice as many viaducts some over 100 metres high. Some tunnels were 50 metres long whilst many were over 2 kilometres long. Really scary!! All I would think about as we entered another long tunnel off a windy viaduct, was please dont break down, as we encountered long convoys of italian and french trucks heading for the italian border and the large city of Genova.
Into Italy we headed, between the tunnels, we could glimpse the seaside towns and hilltop villages. It couldnt be pleasant for those looking down or up at this noisy busy motorway as it rolls on through hillsides and over high bridges.
We arrived in Genova at rush hour. We were hot and traffic crawled through the built of areas of this large seaport. We were well on track now for our exit into Chiavari now. We had just passed a tunnel when Ian's Scoot came to a abrupt halt. His suppressor cap had jumped off and blown the CDI Unit. The italian version of the Highway control were pretty quick and came to our assistance on the motorways hard shoulder. We decided, rather than fix it in this dangerous location, we would put ians GP in the van, get Tony's SX out, as he was driving and get off this god forsaken road as quick as we could. So Ian rode Tony's SX and we soon came off the tollroad at the Chiavari exit. We went through the toll booth, headed through the town in the direction of Lavagne, our next destination. Finally we were sampling and observing italian life free of the hassle of tollroads and articulated trucks.We arrived at Albergo de la Stella hotel next to the marina entrance. This was very different. A warm friendly lady greeted us, checked us in and suggested were to eat that night. Parking was a problem at first, but we eventually sorted it, fixed Ians Gp ( another CDI unit!) and readied the scoots up for the final days ride to Elba. It was now that Pietro came into his own. Born in Naples and a restuarant owner in sunny Batley, he knew the lowdown on italian life and felt at home in this busy working seaside town. Unfortunately his extrovert personality clashed somewhat with the proprieter of the restuarant we chose and all though we fed well, some chose words were spoken on leaving the establishment between Pietro and the owner.Bedtime called and we slept well even, if that Rottwiellers was still snoring in my room!! In the morning we were treated to an typical italian breakfast of Focciaca, italian bread and preserves, croissants and the best coffee I have tasted for some time. Fortunately the owner had spent three years in England, so even though we had Pietro, communication was never a problem. Time to say goodbye, load up and head for Piombino.
Lavagne to Morcone via Piombino.
Back we went onto the tollroad for the short 140 mile stretch to Piombino. At first we had more tunnels and viaducts to encounter. To our left we could observed the spectacular but distant Appennine mountains, but as we approached Pisa and then Livorno the bumpy road levelled out into a flatter terrain. At one of our many 60 mile stops, Pietro gave me a guided tour of the service station. It was far removed from a typical English fuel stop we are all so used to back home. On the Petrol forecourt there were attendants to take your money and clean your screens. The services incorporated a well stocked shop, a takeaway selling fresh produce and a restuarant with good quality food at sensible prices. The staff were friendly and courteous and there was a pleasant atmosphere about the whole place.This was just what we needed after a hard ride on a Lambretta. During this days ride, it was my turn to drive the van as we were heading for the ferry. The industrial port of Piombino soon greeted us and we entered the Moby Ferries carpark ahead of schedule. Sorted out the tickets and surprisingly we were ushered onto the next ferry, van, scoots, bike and all.
It took exactly an hour to make the crossing. The island came into view quickly and soon enough we were off the ferry and making our way through the Port of Portoferraio.I led the gang out of the port in the direction of Capoliveri. The terrain rapidly became much more hilly, as we journeyed the 18 km across the island towards our final goal Morcone. We were now very tired but elated at having almost completed our long journey. The climb up to the old town of Capoliveri was spectacular, with fantastic views of the island and the resort of Porto Azzurro. From Capoliveri we observed more dramatic scenery, as we descended down towards our final goal Morcone Beach.
After a slight detour past our hotel turning, we eventually found our resting place for the next five nights, the Scoglieri Hotel. We had set off at 3.00pm Saturday from Howden and it was now 5.00pm Thursday evening. Really good to be here!
Elba, Rally and All.
Those that have been to Morcone will know that it is indeed a really beautiful place. Having introduced ourselves to Piero the hotel proprietor, we all checked into our rooms. The rooms were pleasant with a little kitchen beyond the twin bedroom.It was the view from the balcony that clinched it for me. The hotel was practically on the beach!The waves crashing along a 500 metre long deserted sandy beach. Lush vegetation on undulating hillsides surrounded the sunny beach area adding to its appeal. Nightingales and Warblers sanged noisely around the hotel only enhancing its ambiance. This was definitley heaven. Once we had got sorted, it was up to the bar area with its own panoramic views, for a well deserved drink or two.
There we met and greeted the rest of the Yorkshire contingent who had just arrived.They had flown in to Pisa and travelled down to the ferry port of Piombino. Stubby and Gary of Cheeky Northern Monkeys fame were regular Elba trippers and Phil and Monica Deakin from Rotherham SC had also been here before. They gave us the lowdown on what to do and were to go.
Pietro's wife Jane and Tony's girlfriend Kate also arrived later on to join us fresh from Pisa airport and we all headed into Capoliveri to sample the night life even though we were fairly knackered.
Lots of young italians on small frame Vespas were already present around this lively little town. After a few drinks and something to eat it was time for bed ready for the next day.
Friday started warm and sunny and early for me.Time to sort out the van, clean Petes TS1 and a quick swim in the sea to ease my back pain. After a continental Breakfast, it was time to unload my GP from the van and strip the engine ready for Tesco Pete and a fresh Crank. Scooters were now regularly passing our hotel down to the Rally location further down the road at Mandels bar and cafe. Tony and myself had just finished stripping the engine when the legendary Tino Satchi pulled in on a immaculate series 2 Lambretta to observe what we were doing. Nice chap. Anyway we had done as much as we could, so it time to tidy up and head down to the rally.
The weather was now on the change and the warm sunny morning was replaced by a cool breezy cloudy day.
We rode down to the rally and parked up amongst the scooters. Mostly italian Vespas here. They outnumbered the lambrettas by four to one. There were a few german vespas scattered among the 60 to 70 scooters under the trees next to the beach, but apart from our scoots that was it. Scooter tunes were playing around the cafe area and in one area was a few stalls and a impromptu Custom show. We all signed in at the reception desk, paid a rally fee, filled a form in, given a cloth badge, a wristband to free entry to various night do's and that was it. Personally I didnt really know what to expect, but was a little deflated by what was on offer. Okay a fantastic setting, but It wasnt what I had quite imagined. Maybe I expected too much. The weather closed in by 3 oclock and rain fell fot the rest of the day and into the night.We all met up at the bar in the evening and got a taxi into Capoliveri for a meal. During our meal in the main square of the town, we were lucky enough to observe at close quarters a sombre but moving re-enactment of the Crucifixion of Jesus Christ. Three young men were attached to the crosses as a band played next to were we were sat. The rain sodden square was packed with onlookers and people taking part in this annual Good Friday event. A memorable event indeed.
Saturday was dark, drizzly and overcast.Not a nice day especially when I was recieving text messages to tell me it was 25 degrees in Scarborough at the Scooter Rally.During the day we wondered amongst the scooters parked at Morcone and in Capoliveri and at night we went to hear Martha Reeves at the nearby Decor Night Club.
On Sunday the weather picked up and there was to be a rideout around the island. Stu wouldnt go on it as he was drowning his sorrows in drink after picking up a 40 euro parking fine whilst attempting to get cash from a hole in the wall machine. During the rideout I had to go and pick Pete and his wife Sandra up from the Ferry port and of course that all important Crankshaft. Pete and Sandra had practically come direct from Scarborough and the rally and looked tired out. Anyway Pete being Pete, he insisted on getting the crank in to my GP as soon as possible and it was up and running in three hours. Then it was back up to the town for a well deserved meal at a restaurant Pietro had found. Tesco Pete could by now hardly keep his eyes open.We finished off at Mandels night club were they played some fine northern soul to finish the night. Monday arrived and the weather had was better. Time for some final adjustments on my red GP and a test run up the hill to Capoliveri to make sure it was ready for the 1200 mile ride home to Blighty.Fortunately it sounded and ran fine. Lots of the participants from the Elba Scooter Rally were heading home today and we prepared for a early start on the Tuesday. Just time for a farewell meal in the old town. Icing on the cake was that we had won the Furthest travelled trophy. I gave this to Tony Haigh as he had actually completed the most miles.
Morecone to Lavagne
Tuesday morning came and we were ready for the road by 8.00am. I drove the van and we managed to get an early crossing to the mainland. The weather was warm and sunny as we headed for Lavagne. Pete was now riding his beloved TS1 home with Tony, Stu, Ian and Linda and Pietro on his Honda, with me and Sandra in the van bringing up the rear as support. The toll road to Lavagne was particularly busy and ian and Linda had a really close call when they nearly ran into the back of a braking arctic truck. We arrived early at the same hotel we had stayed at on the way to Elba. Checked in, sorted the scoots for tomorrows run and then had a walk and a few beers in a bar next to the nearby marina. Some serious money was floating about in this marina, many with british flags. We finished the night with a fantastic meal at a local restuarant. Pietro must have had a good repore with the owner, because they treated us like kings, bringing marvelous food and drink well into the night, all for around 30 euros a head. Its was a wonderful way to end our stay in Italy.
Lavagne to Digne
We set off early the next day, back through all those horrible tunnels and over those viaducts, past Genova and towards the french border. Somehow Pietro, who was now driving the van had got lost in Genova and was heading over the Alpes in the direction of Turin. My fault. I had programmed the Sat Nav to Digne without putting via Nice. Took a while, but he soon caught us up. As we headed into France above Nice, we were ushered into a space besides the toll booths by the local gendarmary to produce our documents. It was the first time we had been stopped and unfortunately wasnt the last. We left the tollroads around Nice and headed into the mountains. We rode through some dramatic thunderstorms and sensational scenery. Concentrating on the flooded roads took my mind off my back which was giving me pain at this point in time. As soon as they had started, the storms ended and we had a good ride to our next night stop in Digne. I ate in the hotel and rested my back whilst the rest of the crew went into the town for something to eat and drink.
Digne to Villefranche.
My GP was going well now and we set off north on a cloudy and wet day in the direction of Sisteron. We had to regroup here as we temporarily lost Pietro again on his Honda Cruiser. From Sisteron we rode to Ribiers, then Serres and Sigottier. I then took the guys up another mountain pass. The Col de Carabes. What a climb!! Imagine climbing 1261 metres up a route that has no passing places, grass growing down the middle of it, with weight limit signs for 3.5 tons, cambers and sharp bends on a steep precarious cliff hugging track. We did it. Three lammies, a GTS 300, a Honda Cruiser and a rusty yellow tranny van. We went past a couple of solitary farmhouses were the locals looked in disbelief as we journeyed past them and over the top of the pass. All I could think was, " I am going to get so much grief when we eventually stop." As it happened when we finally stopped in Luc-en-diois, everyone was happy to of done it, although no one dare stop to take pictures of the amazing landscape incase they couldnt catch up with me again. We headed back through St Die and onto Valence and the Toll roads and busy Lyon. We got lost for a while before we got our bearings and finally headed north looking for fuel. I had a semi siezure possibly due to fuel starvation and limped on to our hotel in Villefranche.
Villefranche to Chalons.
The following day, I played it safe and kept my speed down for a while, checking my plug at every fuel stop. It was a long hard ride to Chalon. Petes TS1 started playing up near Dijon and pulled abruptly to find his backend was locking up. In the van it went and by the time we got to Chalon, he had taken the engine to bits and determined that the Magneto flange bearing has failed. Before we got to Chalon, we once again had to produce our documents for the police. We needed to prove that our scoots were of a certain cc to be on the tollroads. Finally we reached our destination and Pete set to work reassembling his engine with a new Magneto flange that was stored in the van. Once again we went into Chalon for something to eat.
Chalon to Zeebrugge.
Last stage now. We were tired and bum sore. It had been a long long journey, my back ached, but we only had 200 miles to go and we could then relax as we cross the North Sea to Hull. The weather was fair and we had a steady ride up towards Lille. Once again I was asked to produce my documents by you know who. This time it was whilst I was filling my tank on my GP at a service station. Lille was really busy. Well done to Ian and Linda who were leading. They managed to get us on the right road for Brugge. We stopped for fuel one more time and then headed for the evening ferry.There were roadworks south of Zeebrugge and I nearly came off my scoot having hit a deep rut in the road. It shook me up abit, but as the end was in sight, we soldered on to the ferry port.
Once there it was time to sort the van out. Mine and Petes Scoots went in the van. We had abit of a photo shoot and before we boarded the ferry, as a mark of respect for what we had all endured, I left my old knacked size 10 Doc Martins at the boarding gates. A strange gesture you may say, but those boots, like us had been through so much and I thought it was a fitting way to end our journey in Belgium.
Conclusion.
The four Lambrettas had got us home safely. The problems that most long distance riders encounter on these machines, we fixed as we went along our route. Tesco Pete has to take alot of the credit for getting me home. He was amazing to watch whilst repairing our scoots. Surprising we didnt have any cables to replace and no punctures to mend over the whole distance. Just cranks, stator plates, cdi units, magneto bearings and fuel tap rod link. Petrol consumption for Petes TS1, Ian's GP and Tony's SX averaged out at roughly 6 litres for every 60 mile fuel stop. My rapido was disappointing consuming 7 to 8 litres per 60 mile stop. Obviously a jetting and needle setting problem. Stu's GTS 300 was predictably reliable as you would expect from a new 4 stroke auto. Pietro's honda. Its a Honda. Nothing more to comment there. The van that we bought for £350 served us very well. Overall we had travelled a total distance of 2,310 miles across Belgium, France and Italy to Elba and back again. It had been a long tiring, but enjoyable and memorable experience. The eight of us gelled quite easily and we worked as a team to achieve our objective. We wouldnt be doing it again. Weve done it. Elba was fantastic. Capoliveri and Morcone magical. We met so many nice people there and on our travels through France and Italy.
As the Ferry glided into my home town of Hull, we, that is Tony, Pietro, Stu, Linda and Ian, Pete and Sandra, not forgetting myself can feel a sense of achievement at having completed safely the elba trip, the Italian Job.
Derek Cooper.
Selby & Pontefract Collective SC.