THE TEST RUN
15-07-99: I have now completed a 2600 mile test ride through France, Italy and Switzerland. The first two days were anything but pleasant. It rained almost without stopping. I got as far as Simionne, just East of Paris. I decided on a motel as I was soaking wet and the industrial sites that surrounded me did not make pleasant camp-sites. The next day, and despite the rain, I made it to the south of Provence, near Arles, where I camped on the property of some friends. I enjoyed their hospitality until the early afternoon of the next day before setting off to explore a little of Provence.
I made my way to a small hamlet where my father used to live. It was bought in its entirety by an old friend of Quentin's over 30 years ago. He restored it and uses it to entertain friends. My father was given use of one of the houses and he made it his home for over 10 years until circumstance forced him to move on.
The place is just as beautiful as ever. The hamlet, as collection of fifteen small houses, tightly huddled together on top of a hill, commands a magnificent view over the surrounding countryside. Standing on the edge of the property one can see for miles, a view made up of fields of lavender, wheat, sunflowers and woodland stretching right out until the Luberon mountain range raises itself out of the ground to announce the beginning of the Alps. I camped nearby on the lip of a gorge that snakes its way around the base of the hamlet. I set up my tent rather early in order to watch the strange phenomena of the sun set into the mouth of this mini canyon.
The following day was an odd mix. There was a fantastically beautiful ride through France that finally wound up and across the Alps into Italy. Here things deteriorated considerably until I left the coast road to go inland towards Florence and finally Sienna. I stayed in the house of a relative until I was suitably rested before heading back to catch the ferry and home. I left myself two days. A mistake. The first day I ended up riding for thirteen hours until I could go no further, but was compensated with a pleasant hotel and meal on the shores of Lake Montreaux in Switzerland. The second day was fifteen hours and turned me out at the door of my house at 11 o'clock at night. I have covered the seat of the bike with a sheepskin and that is probably the only reason that I am able to sit here and write these words.
You will notice that I haven't mentioned the bike. This is because there is nothing to say. It behaved faultlessly and effortlessly - as I knew it would.