July 15, 2012
Farewell (almost) to Italy: Rimini - Ancona
I NEVER wanted to buy a scooter. You know, one of those motorbikes with curved, feminine shapes and the engine enclosed like an unborn baby. But now I am tempted. Because I'm convinced they are sold fitted with a leggy teenager in minute shorts. The girls come ready installed on the pillion seat. You never see a scooter without one.
Today we saw hundreds. They were the only mental diversion on a long, wind-fired ride along the Adriatic, through towns thick with pink sunbathers (or brown, depending on how long they'd been there) and on roads lined for kilometres with parked cars. Sometimes we were on yet more of Italy's wonderful bike paths, the railway to our left and the sea, unseen, beyond it, and the traffic on the coast road on the other side of trees to our right. Sometimes we were on the road itself, untroubled by drivers because they were all in gentle holiday mood.
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And there's not a lot to tell you, except for the sting in the tail.
We decided on a good mindless bash today to profit from the wind at our backs and to be sure of catching tonight's ferry across the Croatia. We rode so hard that we were in Ancona by early afternoon. Which gave us all the time in the world to discover that the night ferry didn't run on Sundays and that the day ferry had parted soon after breakfast.
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