Thursday I started early to drop off the postcards, swing past a Balsamic vinegar manufacturer and end my day at Garder Lake. Sounds simple enough!
Google and I did not see eye to eye on our trip to the postoffice though, it REALLY doesn’t seem to know the roads in Rome. What was supposed to be a 5 minute trip turned out to be around 30 by the time I arrived, and getting into the postoffice required me to park illegally. I love Italy. Or something.
Inside the post office was very interesting. There were 4 counters with people at them, but only two serving. The entry had a ticket machine akin to the motor registration back in Adelaide, and the service had equivalent speed. Serving only 2 people before me meant I had to wait for 30 minutes. Did I mention I had to park illegally? I was a little grumpy when I arrived at the counter but didn’t let it show, asking politely “Stamps?” and handing over 6 postcards. The response was something in Italian, akin to “I have no idea what you’re saying”. I was honestly a little shocked to find no English AT ALL at a post office. But hey, google translate to the rescue. “Francobolli?” said I. The response was a lot of Italian, spoken very quick and agitated. The yelling for the person at the counter next to hers. Back and forth ensued, and the cards were weighed. Total cost? 20 EUR. What the actual F….?!? But at this point I had waited about 40 minutes, had a 30 minute ride and actually had to get somewhere today. So I gave up and paid the 20 EUR. It then took 10 minutes to affix computer printed stamps to the cards. I shit you not, it took about an hour and a half from leaving to having posted 6 postcards. Oh, and I had to put them in the letterbox outside…. On the other side of the street. WTF?!? But fine, at least they’re sent.
Well, that’s done at least, and I was off. The ride was uneventful, with the weather not even being all that hot today. It was downright pleasant to ride the Autostrada after Rome and the riding of the last week in general.
I dropped by Leonardi to pick up some awesome balsamic vinegar which Manja and I had tasted at one of the dinners. It’s a really idilic farm with a shop – totally worth a visit if you’re ever in the area!
I arrived near the lake at a very nice family home, with whom I communicated through their granddaughter who was visiting. They were kind enough to book me a nice restaurant right at the lake, so I went for a 15 minute ride for dinner there. I eventually even found a (paid) carpark to leave my bike, and found myself in the most wonderful seaside town. I found the restaurant without any issue, but was a little disappointed to be seated inside…. And the food wasn’t anything to write home about either…. So I got myself some awesome Italian ice-cream (now that’s GOOD!) as desert and walked through the town taking some pictures
And for my own amusement, I seem to have found a place of worship to the goddess of cacti. At least that’s my story for this particular thing, and I’m sticking to it :LOL:
Friday I was going to ride back to Germany along Lake Garda. I headed off after a nice breakfast served at the pool, and made my way to the scenic route. Going around a corner, something felt a little strange, but I couldn’t quite place it. A few moments later, on a straight bit of road, the bike started to wobble dramatically. Luckily I was riding quite slow – I managed to get the bike under control by dropping down to about 20km/h without using the breaks. My worry was that whatever was causing this would be made worse by breaking. I very carefully applied the back break and the wobbles got worse, but thankfully the front break worked fine, so I stopped the bike roadside and called Klaus for some advice.
Bike in Carpark
The bike was clicking in an unusual way, so we tried some remote diagnostics. I very slowly rode (read: wobbled!) the bike to a nearby carpark at a tiny village in the middle of nowhere, and popped it up on the centre stand. We diagnosed for a bit over a very choppy Skype connection – eventually agreeing that it’s likely the wheel bearing, which would require a service.
Well, fuck. Here’s a video of what it looked like:
Where it happened Click for map!
Dirty hands and clean coffee – worse places to wait for help!
So then it was time to call the insurance company, arrange a tow etc. etc. The first call was simple, they passed my details onto the Italian roadside assistance. They advised that they’d call me back about 30 minutes later, so I walked to the town and headed to a little cafe to have a coffee. I have to say there would have been worse places to break down!
The Italian roadside service called back a little bit later, but couldn’t figure out where I was and didn’t have facilities to use GPS. I eventually passed the phone to the waitress who described where her shop was, and the service lady said that she would pass on the details and call back shortly.
10 minutes later my phone rang and someone spoke Italian. I said “Deutsch/English?” to which he said “Ein kleines” (meaning a small one). I passed the phone back to the waitress who once more explained where the shop was, and the tow-truck driver said he’d be on his way and be there in about 10 minutes. So after a generous tip to the waitress I waited at the road for the tow-truck. He really did arrive 10 minutes later, and was the most friendly mechanic I’d ever met. He was so happy! We headed over to the carpark and got the bike onto the back of the truck, wheels slightly slipping, bike wobbling, but eventually secure. I think I nearly had 3 heart attacks in the process of getting it onto the truck, both because there was a long steep ramp down and because the back of the truck was slippery metal. Oh, and the tyre was wobbling badly by this stage!
View from the workshop
The garage was only a few minutes away, in a really pretty town called Malcesine. I have to say this is probably one of the workshops with the best view!
The guy who picked me up was an apprentice, and the head mechanic only spoke a few words German so we did a lot of pointing and gesturing. 5 minutes later he had the back tyre removed and was grinding at the wheel bearings – Klaus and I had been right that WAS the problem.
Here’s what they should look like and what the left one did look like:
No wonder it wobbled!
Slight problem though: They do not stock BMW parts. They deal mostly with cars and a little bit with Vespas. Some phone calls later, the head mechanic says “Sorry, replacement part not sent until Monday. Arrive probably Tuesday.”
Ah fuck. I have a hotel booked tonight in Germany and am supposed to meet Manja and some friends tomorrow, and head back to Ilkas garden on Sunday for a pool day. I must have looked pretty annoyed, because the apprentice suddenly jumped up and said “Idea!” And measured the bearing which was still good. The Master mechanic followed him to the store space and they returned grinning a short moment later. They obviously didn’t want to get my hopes up, saying “Wait, wait” while they went back to the tyre. Then “Perfecto!” form the apprentice. Turns out a type of Vespa wheel bearing has exactly the same size as the BMW ones. They have different lube, it’s not a permanent solution and would have to be changed out again, but it would get me home. Perfecto indeed! I asked if they could still fit it today and the mechanic said “No problem, right after Lunch. Go and explore the town and come back in 2 hours. or 3. take your time.” With that they headed off to get their own lunch, so I grabbed my bag and explored Malcesine.
I found a really nice little cafe where I had a nice lunch – Gnocci by grandmas recipe, which I should have asked for retrospectively! It was REALLY good. I explored and wrote a bit before heading back to the workshop. The guys were nearly done already, and I was on my way again by about 4pm. Best of all, they only charged me about 80 EUR – I was expecting something close to 200-300.
Worlds best Gnocchi!
I found a really nice little cafe where I had a nice lunch – Gnocci by grandmas recipe, which I should have asked for retrospectively! It was REALLY good. I explored and wrote a bit before heading back to the workshop. The guys were nearly done already, and I was on my way again by about 4pm. Best of all, they only charged me about 80 EUR – I was expecting something close to 200-300.
Mc Fancy’s
I called the hotel and advised that I wouldn’t be arriving before 11, and with that I was off again, taking the more direct route to the hotel. The rest of the ride was pretty uneventful, except for a Baverian McDonalds at which I stopped for a quick dinner on the road. It was super fancy and the staff were wearing traditional Bavarian dresses instead of the standard uniforms. I didn’t want to take direct pictures, but you can see what I mean in the background of this fireplace. (Yes, the McDonalds had a fireplace)
When I arrived at the hotel I was told that tonight was a red moon! I totally forgot, but dragged myself out to have a quick look. It did look pretty spectacular, but my phone couldn’t do it justice. I returned inside and dropped into bed for and exhausted from the strenuous day.
Listening to
Well done for getting the bike up That! Ramp with That bearing! Really love to read your blog!