Thanks for your comments everyone. I'm glad you liked the pics. I was incredibly excited and at the same time nervous about the trip cos I returned to motorcycles less than 2 years ago after a break of nearly 12 years. I'd been motorcycling in the alps lots during my twenties but, hey, that was a long time ago. You know what, nothing much has changed really, except, relatively speaking, Europe is now a bit cheaper than the UK.
I felt safer riding in Europe especially Switzerland and Germany where drivers show consideration for all other road users. Although in Italy it seemed many drivers regard the speed limit as an advisory and just go as fast as possible. But at least they're concentrating on what they're doing.
Travelling alone, I was pleased to meet and chat with a few American travellers enroute and a couple of Aussies at the Ducati factory. Also, as Switzerland was central to the trip I called in on a 'colleague' at davos who I've worked with via the internet for over 4 years yet never actually met.
Talking with one of those american travelers during a guided tour of the Eagles Nest (mountain top house built for Hitler) above Berchtesgaden we agreed that despite its stunning beauty the valley became a chillingly sinister place once its history was revealed. The previous day I had been cruising up and down the roads on the mountainside, quite oblivious to their original purpose accessing nazi party HQ. Unaware, the clearings in the forest were where planning centres and SS barracks once stood and the dead end roads once led to houses of top nazis. Miiles of underground bunkers extend deep into the mountain.
Berchtesgaden through a cafe window.
Regards the camping, I only stayed on established camping grounds. A couple of these, being on mountain sides, they did feel like wild camping, but a short walk down the path hot showers etc were available. In remoter areas, I found campsite owners often only show up for an hour or two per day, leaving campers to do their own thing. Which seemed kind of nice until, frustratingly, one bitterly cold night I found myself looking at bundles of firewood securely locked into a storage cage. That night when the only campfire wood I could find was hopelessly damp. It went sub zero about 9pm by which time I was tucked up in the sleeping bag sipping a hot chocolate drink, listening to the clanking of cowbells in a distant meadow. J B, I'm not sure, but I think 'wild camping' is actually prohibited in most of the countries I visited.
My next trip, I'll leave the tent at home because I found European hotels can be very affordable, and I can't wait till
the warm weather returns
.
