Riccione

Riccione – October 29th

Take Post

It’s been an exhausting day.

It began at 05:00 when Cat and I woke up to get ready for her ride to the airport.  On the way back from dropping her off…it was dark because we’d got up so early…an accident occurred in front of me on the A11 and I had to swerve to avoid two badly damaged cars and a truck…not to mention the people waving madly in the dark…duh.

The plan for the day was to take the A1 a bit south then head to the coast.  As I was just about to enter the A1 ramp the low tire pressure warning came on.  I didn’t take the turn and found the nearest spot to pull over. Now one of the interesting things about this car is that it’s a French Renault that I’m driving in Italy and all the warning words are in German.  Good thing the tire warning light is somewhat international.

I assumed that I’d hit something on the road while avoiding the pileup which, for those of you who’ve heard my tale of tire woes while travelling, will not come as a surprise.  In fact I think I would have been disappointed if I hadn’t blown a tire or two on this trip.

The signal showed the front left tire down to 2.5 and the book says it should be 3.0.  I drove for a bit on it and watched it go from 2.5 to 2.3.  At that point I stopped and put the doughnut on.  It’s actually a full size spare but the warning reads only 80 km/hr.  I took a look at the tire I’d taken off and sure enough there was a shinny bit of metal protruding. As if that wasn’t enough a few clicks later another warning light came on…you know the one with the little wrench implying something needs fixing.  I took a chance that it was telling me in German that there was something wrong with my front left tire…the one in the back of the car I mean…perhaps it’s own wee plea for help…so I ignored it and pushed on.

This called for a plan revision since it’s Sunday and abolutely nothing is open.  All the fuel stations are self serve so there’s no one around to even ask for assistance.  I decided to take the back roads to the coast…me and the doughnut.

Now, whoever said that every cloud has a silver lining was absolutely right.  Since I was on backroads doing about 80 I got to see some of the most beautiful country side anywhere in the world.  I sedately drove through the hills of Tuscany then over the Apenines to Fano.  The drive over the mountains was quite spectacular and I never went over 50, even downhill.  The road from Sansepolcre to Saint Angelo in Vado is only about 30 km but it is a motorcyclists dream come true.  The road is without a bump but with twists and turns galore.  At Saint Angelo there were at least a dozen bikes stopped for a rest and I was passed by at least a dozen more both coming and going.  I saw one bicyclist and he was going downhill all wrapped up for the weather.  You see the temperature went from a balmy 19 at the bottom to 10 at the top.

I pushed on slowly but surely…didn’t get lost once…amazing that.  I made it to Fano then decided to continue up the coast.  

I didn’t bother with lunch as I knew I’d already lost an hour of sunlight due to the time change and I was determined at this point to finish one major part of this quest.  I was only a few km away from Gradara where E. Joseph Jaillet is waiting.

SR 16 is the old Route 16 that our boys followed north to the Gothic Line. At Pesaro and the Foglia River things got very ugly for them.  Gradara has 369 of our boys attesting to that fact.

The day Joseph was killed he was manning Sgt Newcombes gun, which was one of the 700 guns firing on Coriano ridge, just west of where I am as I write.  This was the CanadianéBritish attack on that ridge.  Josephs gun received a direct hit from German counter battery fire, he and three others were wounded and Joseph died on the way to the aid station.

The cemetery itself is in an awkard spot hard against the hill side with a view of the A14 streaming by below.  Not what I would call the most picturesque of spots.  The spot was well signed from the SR 16 but the road in was rutted and there were trees down and the wind was a howlin’.  Joseph is laying at the very top of several rows of terraced markers and he actually has one of the best views of them all

I placed my final stone and said a few words of thanks to Joseph then headed back down through the olive trees and on my way.

I don’t know whether you recall the trouble I had finding digs along the Adriatic Coast much further south…well it ain’t much different in the north.  I figured there must be something open…this whole area being a seaside resort.  I stopped at a supermarcato to pick up dinner and asked if there was a hotel open.  The women looked at me as if I’d spoken english.  She then went and yelled to another worker at the very end of the store…and I’m assuming it was about an hotel aperto…but there were several customers who snickered so I immediately checkd to see if my pants were done up.

Apparently everything is chiuso in the hotel field.

I pushed on…I mean what else am I to do.  I took a right turn off SR 16 to the Royal Hotel…nada…locked up tight.  I tried another a few km along…again nada.  It’s now getting a wee bit dark and I’m thinking I may have to sleep in the car for the night.  See…the other thing is I’m pretty bushed and would welcome an OPEN sign.

In Riccione I strike gold…well actually the hotel operator struck gold as this little place is a bit high end and they want E79 a night.  I’m too tired to argue about it so that’s it for the night.

I’m again a bit ahead of schedule but I have one other place to go before Bologna and I might just try to get the tire (tyre) fixed as well.

Stand Down.