LOST PATROL

About half of the 24 vans that were here last night have left by the time we are up.  Despite that number it’s been a quiet stop and a quiet night.  Our journey begins through wide open countryside, very attractive but with strong and gusty southerly wind pushing us around on the westbound road.  We drive throughSt Pourcain sur Sioule and take note of the central aire as it was one of our ‘possibles’ yesterday.  We join the D46 and the sat nav shows ‘exit in 73 miles’ so we expect good progress.  Traffic is light and the route is through lovely farm land with lush grass and large herds of white cattle.
Soon after Montlucon we stop for lunch.  The temperature is 24C and people are sitting out on the rest area’s picnic tables spreading out their lunch.  Some have even brought table cloths.
Much of the route from here is a reversal of the start of our tour on 23rd September, but now the grass is green and trees are looking less stressed so obviously there has been some rain over the last three weeks.
This time we bypass La Souteraine and pick up a narrow, bouncy and wooded shortcut to Lussac-les-Eglises.  Soon after we are turning into our lane in village, but over the hedge Ali spots a “...big tractor coming…”.   We meet it by the sports ground so there is just enough room to pass. The ‘big tractor’  has six huge wheels, is painted green and brown and black and has three soldiers and a gun on top!
After we have parked in our garden the ‘big tractor’ and two more armoured cars go by, then the armoured scout car turns around and the soldiers get out and wander up and down the road looking quite lost.  They scan adjacent fields, chat on their radios and have a smoke then drive up and down twice more before going away.
Ali opens the house and finds all is well indoors.  Plus our grass has returned to a healthy green, flecked with mushrooms and mole hills.
Early evening:  26C, a few rumbles of thunder, flashes of lightening, then torrential rain and all hell breaks loose. We were wishing for this before we went away to help the parched garden.  It didn’t need to  wait three weeks to greet us on our return.
The storm rages for about twenty minutes then the sun breaks through with a massive, full rainbow.

So ends this tour but we’ll let our readers know as soon as we are on the road again.

CHICKEN RUN

The rustling of leaves is about the only noise and it’s much warmer than the previous night, 17C this morning.
Our first major places is Bourg-en-Bresse, famous for its ultra-expensive chickens, twinned with Aylesbury and a busy sprawl of multi-lane junctions to drive through.  We spot a large camperstop near the centre so should we ever wish to lay [bad pun] here ourselves we could.
It’s mostly dual carriageway to Macon, a town we have never been through before.  We cross the large bridge and drive along with the river on our left.  On our right is a long boulevard of cafes with terraces right out to the road.  All are quite busy with people chatting, reading or thumbing their smartphones, soaking up the sunshine. 
Half an hour later little showers turn to heavy rain which hangs as spray between the thick woodland flanking the road.  We stop for lunch, chicken sandwiches, near Cluny.
Out of the woods  we return to the Macon vineyards, characterised by their tall, closely spaced, almost hedge-like rows of  vines.
The vineyard landscape later changes to farming, brown cattle, maize and recently planted green sprouts.  Then a huge field in front of a huge hen house is peppered with thousands of free range chickens.  Real grass, not scratched earth, real free range.  It’s a beautiful and not so common sight.
Our original plans were to go to a vineyard for the night but with the rain and slower than expected journey we reroute to the aire at Lapallisse, one we had considered on our way out.

There is an impressive stone chateau and church as we drive into town and when we reach the aire it is not too busy.  There are 10 or 12 vans, mostly German, half of those are either large or have trailers so they’re parked longways across multiple spaces.  We find a small bay right beside the river with no parking on our left as it’s access to the footbridge and a friendly French couple to our right.
By the time we have had coffee the sun has come out and it’s a warm evening.
Vans arrive through the afternoon and we wonder why so many, including those on the roads today, are from Germany.  Looking at the map we surmise that Lapallisse is on the straight-line route for any of them heading to Spain for winter.
Our funds won’t run to Bresse chicken but Ali cook a very nice chicken escollape in lemon sauce for our dinner.

WE DRIVE TO BUGEY

Autumn is here with a morning temperature of only 5c but it’s clear and sunny.  Ali goes to the Boulangerie, very conveniently behind us and gets pains aux chocolat for breakfast.
We leave the quiet little aire and start our journey on a straight, level, smooth road, a real contrast to yesterday.  Then it’s a short section of motorway around Chambery and we are on our way to Aix les Bains.  The road runs right alongside the lake, lac du Bourget, but Aix les  Bains clearly doesn’t want motorhomes as every car park has a 2.1m height barrier.  The lake is dark blue with rocks on the far side and little marinas nearside. We round the small promontory and head north along the east bank having to stop twice at level crossings where the road and railway swap sides.  It’s quite narrow with a sinuous road following the natural contours beside the cliff face.  We find a lay by and Ali gets out and finds the water is absolutely crystal clear.  We stay lakeside all the way to Ruffieux then turn west towards Amberieu le Bugey.  Part of this route is what we covered on the way to Annecy 26th September.  In those two weeks the trees have turned more golden and we notice lots of tiny vineyards, some not much bigger than a tennis court.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Savoy_wine

The road runs through the Cluse de l’Albarine, a gorge with some similarity to Cheddar Gorge, but much higher sides and 30 kms long
We stop in St Rambert en Bugey, which we couldn’t do on the way out, and look at the lovely late flowers on the bridge.  Near the town we also see clumps of sunflowers, very late to be in full bloom.  Trees of Heaven and Virginia Creeper add even more colour to the Bugey, a region defined by bends in the Rhone.
Continuing through woodland we arrive at the outskirts of Amberieu le Bugey then go a few miles north to the camperstop at Pont d’Ain.  We cross the bridge [pont] and drive along the Ain to parking under avenues of sycamore trees.  The river is flowing smoothly but with what looks like a strong undercurrent.  The ducks don’t swim against it, they fly upstream and drift down.
Another van joins us and once the sun has set over the bridge and the kids on mopeds have gone home to bed all is peaceful.

TRUNK ROAD

We are still in bed when we detect the light thud of our tape being left on the step.
This morning is sunny and the surrounding mountains are enormous and craggy.  Sunshine means we can do our anticipated drive over the Col du Mont Cenis.  If yesterday’s mist had returned there would be no point.
From Susa the road starts to climb steeply and soon becomes very twisty but it’s a good two lane road with double Armco barriers.  Through the autumn trees there are glimpses of the rugged, tan crags and jagged peaks.  Other times we look down into [from our viewpoint] bottomless ravines.  There are tight hairpins where the road almost fills the windscreen, so steep are the climbs.

Then the road straightens a bit and we see the big blue sign ‘Francia’.  We are out of Italy and back in France.
We pull in near a hydro-power station where there is a stretch of green water held by a dam.  The temperature has dropped from 10c in Susa to 4c here and a strong, gusty wind rocks the van.  Ahead of us white markers zig zag down a distant hillside looking like tinsel on a Christmas tree.  The markers define the road and soon we are on a staircase of hairpin bends climbing ever higher towards the summit.

Sometimes we have the added hazard of cattle grazing at the roadside and later the bends have no barriers at all.  On the ascent we see the stone barrage then a sliver of  blue that grows thicker until we are high enough at 6900ft to look down onto the lake’s surface.  We pull into the viewpoint next to a pyramid stone church and look at a scene from wonderland.  The sapphire blue water is flecked with white wave caps from the wind.  The mountains are tan to red with patches of green and the ridge is a white line of snow.  Over the wind comes the distant clang of the cowbells.

The terrace at the viewpoint has a row of sculptures depicting travellers through the col; modern ones are walkers, cyclists and motorbikes; older ones are cattleherds, goatherds and elephants.  Elephants?  Yes, the Col du Cenis is generally accepted by historians as the route used by Hannibal on his famous journey to attack Rome.

From the church the road starts its descent, gently at first along the bank of the lake and then more and more steeply and twisty, lower gears all the way down.  First passing more ravines with views to more mountains, then down below the tree line through thicker woodland, still with cattle grazing on little patches of grass on the inside of hairpin bends.

A few times we pass under the wires of ski lifts.
Eventually we reach the first significant habitation since Susa, Lapslebourg Mont Cenis, a typical out-of-season alpine resort with wood chalet hotels and stationary ski-lifts.
We stop for lunch and fuel at Termignon then drive alongside the river for a few miles but it’s still a considerable descent with the water nearly matching us for speed.  From a few lay by stops we view another ravine and a hillside with the massive fortress of Avriux terraced up its slope.  We discover it was one of five forts built by Turin barons to protect the Piedmont region from French attack.  Since they are now in France we assume they were unsuccessful.

The journey levels in Modane, a sprawling industrial town at the end of Frejus tunnel.  Roadworks force us onto the autoroute and through the Orelle tunnel 3.6km long but toll charges are waived for this section and then we rejoin the D1006 along the valley floor.  It’s an uninspiring 20 miles with lots of industrial installations, railway yards and urbanisation but our last few miles improve aesthetically before we reach our stop at Bourgneuf.
The camperstop is behind the town looking across flat fields and young woodland to the Massif de Bauges, the same hills we looked at travelling south to Annecy.  Another fort sits near the base of the escarpment, the face of which resembles the foot of an elephant.



https://www.dangerousroads.org/europe/france/228-mont-cenis-france.html

MAGIC TAPE

When we left Iseo on Saturday we told them we would come back but hey weren’t expecting this soon.  We say goodbye, leave the site and drive to the Conad supermarket in Iseo town.  Shopping done, it’s out to the autostrada and another day with the trucks.  Rain and showers don’t help and it’s not an attractive ride.  Once we are clear of Turin the road is much quieter, the rain stops and the scenery improves although distant grey clouds mask some of it.
Nearing the Frejus tunnel we exit the motorway and drive through Bussoleno and out to the aire at Chianocco.  It turns out to be a beautiful spot set among young trees with a vineyard right behind us.  The vines and trees are all turning autumnal and when the late evening sun breaks through the colours are wonderful.

Ali gets out to find if we have to pay and is greeted by a couple of playful dogs which come from the only other van here.  It’s not a conventional motorhome, more a Ducato pick-up truck with a timber caravan crafted into its load bed.  A carved wood name board at the back identifies it a “Magic Tricks” and it is the mobile home for a couple of young French women plus dogs.
Two more vans arrive, then before the sun sets the mist clears to reveal huge mountain peaks around us.
Later there’s a knock at the door, money collector we expect, but no, it’s one of the Magic Tricks girls with a tube of mastic asking if we have a mastic gun so she can fix a leak in their water tank.  We don’t have one but we offer her a roll of duct tape which she takes.  Ali goes over with a torch to see if they need more help and is shown inside their wagon.  It’s all varnished timbers and very homely and they don’t need any help, they’ll return the tape in the morning.
We have a nice piece of fish for supper.

LUCKY AT THE LAKE

Yesterday we talked about staying another day to see the Rialto markets but this morning we agree that a third day on the trot would be too tiring.  If we could rest a day and start again then OK but we don’t have the time.  Just as we are about tto drive to empty out and take on fresh water three other vans line up so we decide to leave it.
We leave Nick and Grete and decide to drive west on the autostrada until lunch time then see how far to go and where to stay.  Traffic is heavy, it’s like a remake of ‘Convoy’ with trucks filling lane 1 to the horizon plus the overtakers in lane 2.

“It was the 8th of Oct and the roads were chocked, all the trucks were nose to tail
There were Croats, Slovaks, Poles and Serbs, why can’t it all go by rail
Headin’ on up Milano way, them rigs kept thunderin’ by
And we just couldn’t overtake ‘em all no matter how hard we’d try
Cos we’re in a great big convoy in the north of Italy
When all we want is scenery to slide by prettily   --  Convoooy!”

Well dreaming that up ticked off a few miles until we hit roadworks.  So with progress slower than expected we decided after our lunch stop to return to Iseo.  Ali rang, they have space so off we go.
An hour later Selena meets us at the gate.  She is running the site on her own, everyone else is on leave or away on business.  We tell her we need to fill with water before pitching up and when we get to the service point we cannot believe our luck.  The broken piece of our water filler neck [see Sat 5th Oct - Via Venezia] is wedged onto the end of their hose, undamaged. Not having to buy and fit a new filler neck and cap means the €20 for a night here is actually a saving!
We pitch up and say hello again to the Dutch man who lent us his pump, then Ali asks Selena if we can order pizza tonight.  Selena says the restaurant is shut, but some other campers have also asked for pizza so they are getting some made nearby and delivered.
Nick spends the afternoon catching up with the blog notes while Ali tidies the van between chats with the ducks and gazing at the smooth lake water.
At 19:00 Selena brings our pizzas and they are excellent.
Iseo treats us to another beautiful sunset then before bed we look at some options for stops tomorrow and our onward route.

BLUE SKY AND RAINBOWS

Nick+Grete want to visit more museums today so we’ll go our own ways today.
We catch the 19 bus, no crowding today, and get vaporetti tickets at P le Roma.  The clerk tells us we need line 12 to the lighthouse then line 3 from there to Burano.
Line 12’s boat is a crowded, older style boat with steps to the inside area but designated wheelchair spaces beside the wheelhouse.  That doesn’t suit the other wheelchair passenger, a French woman being pushed around by her husband.  He has no idea, firstly coming on forwards and nearly tipping her out, then jamming the wheels between boat and quay, finally parking by the rail and nearly pushing her stick over the side.  He might have carried calves in wheelbarrows but we fear for her safety as he ignores all instructions from the crew, not even waiting while they rig the ramp to disembark.
We transfer to the No.3 keeping our distance from homicidal carer as he continues his calf in a wheelbarrow stunts, and enjoy the long ride over open water to the island of Burano.
Burano is famed for lace making and for its colourfully painted houses and once we are away from the noise of the boat engines the harbourside is very peaceful.  We take a different direction from the hoards and are soon in narrow back streets where the bright painted walls are draped with vivid red flowers and doors are shaded with striped sun blinds.  Monday seems to be wash day but none of the laundry we see suggests the residents go in for local lace, everything is a bit on the ‘industrial’ side of undergarment.
Various smells seep into the lanes, hot soapy washing, cooking fish and coffee.  We emerge from a narrow street onto one of the little canals, where there are souvenir shops, restaurants and cake shops.  Small cargo punts bob on the water which is disturbed by big boats at the main quay.  On the bow of one a cat sleeps, totally uncaring of the passing strangers.  We saw sleeping cats in various places as we trundled around.  Outside one restaurant a saxophonist is crooning diners with the same tunes we were hearing in Iseo’s restaurant, from the Viva Italia’s 20 Buono Dining Tunes collection.
The houses are all painted in the vibrant, almost dazzling, shades you might find in a child’s palette, vivid yellow with green shutters, sea green with blue shutters, crimson and white, blue and purple.  In bright sunshine with a rich azure sky it’s like a colour chart through a polaroid filter.

We stop for lunch, a big salad and a pizza shared between us before heading into the wider, main part of the town.  Lace products are for sale everywhere but much of it appears to be framed samples of generic pieces; a gondola, a bridge, small doilies and crosses, all at the €8 to €15 quick souvenir prices.  A couple of places offer demonstrations and more genuine looking stuff at the expected higher prices, but much of it is quite tacky compared with what we saw in Pag and Puy en Velay.
At the end of the road is a church with a leaning tower, not as alarming as Pisa, but enough to attract the ‘I’m holding it up’ selfies.
Returning to the boat station we are just in time for the No.3 back to the lighthouse at Faro  Murano.  It’s a choppy ride across the open water but the island hopping vaporetti are wider and roomier than their canal counterparts and not too crowded.  At Faro we have to wait for a quarter of an hour to catch the No.7 back to San Marco but the trip back is a joy.  We head a long way out with the lowering sun lighting up the houses of Burano on the horizon.  The trip passes the older industrial areas before turning towards the city along the route we entered Venice for the first time on a cruise in 2007, before turning away from the cruise route and into the Grand Canal again. 
We land at San Marco san Zaccaria a little way from the Doge’s Palace and buy ice creams.  Dozens of traders are out with almost identical stalls selling the same things, their badges and key rings glinting and sparkling in the evening sun.  The bridges here have been modified with scaffold ramps over the middle making it easy for wheelers while not spoiling the edges for walkers.  The Bridge of Sighs is draped for renovation as we cross, and gondoliers are starting their trade for sunset romantics.
We cross to San Marco just in time for a No.1 which will stop  at every point along the Grand Canal.  For the first time we are asked for a ticket check, as is every other passenger along the way.  The sun drops quickly as we cruise along bringing the buildings to life and reflecting on the gilded lettering and decorations.  Grete texts to ask if we should meet for supper but we are already past Rialto nearing the end of our journey.
At P le Roma we see a No.5 bus waiting with open doors and very few on board so we are straight in.  A few minutes later the driver arrives and we depart Venice with mixed plans of  whether to stay another day.
Crossing the causeway there is an amazing sunset of blue sky changing to rich yellow and orange nearer the horizon, with the industrial structures of the shipyard and refinery silhouetted against it.
We have a few nibbles and a bottle of bubbly to celebrate our time here then a very early night, happy and shattered.

A DOGE'S DINNER

Around 10:30 we’re all ready for our trip into Venice with Nick W fitted into Nick’s manual chair, starting with a 300yd walk to the bus stop.  It’s not long before the No.5 arrives, a big blue and white bendy bus.  A passenger moves people about to get out the ramp for us and Nick goes part way onto the bus.  At first two people won’t move from the signed wheelchair priority spaces, then one does and others shuffle to make room, except the biggest guy with the biggest trolley case who thinks being German excuses him from the rules.  Finally the driver comes around and explains quite firmly that until the two wheelchairs are onboard, the bus is not moving.  Finally we are squashed in and within 10 minutes we are in Piazza le Roma buying our vaporetti tickets.
We board the first available boat, a No.2 which is as jam-packed as the bus, for the ride down the Grand Canal.  A local tells us there are up to 20,000 cruise passengers in Venice today.  The views all come back to us as do the boat-stop names each time we stop to cram on or drop off passengers.  Being Sunday there are fewer workboats but the sleek water taxis are doing loads of trade as they plane their way amongst the other canal traffic.  We slow for Rialto bridge and continue past the grand former merchant’s buildings, hotels and Salute Cathedral.  Vaporetti plough along full of passengers and a few gondolas are taking punters out to test their selfie-sticks.  It’s doubtful that some people see Venice until the get home and watch the video.  Then we hear ‘nee-nah nee-nah’ and a bright yellow ambulanza parts the traffic as it speeds down the canal, nearly spilling a couple of gondoliers who have to do an impromptu audition for strictly come deck-dancing.  All these experiences for €1.50, the cost of a vaporetto ticket for a wheelchair user, helper goes free.
We alight at Piazza San Marco [St Mark’s Square] and make our way past the souvenir stands towards the Doge’s Palace where there is a 30m queue.  ‘Watch and learn’, says Nick to N+G then goes to the head of the queue, spots a member of staff and asks about wheelchair access.  A ramp is brought out and we are waved to the ticket office where the guide then collects 4 tickets and takes us to another kiosk to scan/verify them.  Normal price €25/adult, our price, 4 x €0.00
Another member of staff takes us to the lift and leads us to the start of our tour, for which we are left to our own devices.  The gilded ceiling of the Senato room we remember well from our visit in 2014 but it is still stunning.  We go from room to room marvelling at wood carvings, gilded mouldings, painted panelling and massive furniture. 
On another floor the Palace room is breathtaking; a huge space, at a guess 8m high, with more gilding and huge paintings of Venetian domination, storming forts, battles in ships and offering the spoils of war to the masters.
Another guide takes us by lift to another floor given over to an art display of Flemish artists featuring ‘Rubens to Tizian’.  There is a gallery’s worth of fine art in there by Rubens, Van Dyke, Van Oost and Tizian among them.  There are tonal sketches of red chalk through to finished masterpieces, the detailing and colouring of which we have never seen as we haven’t visited any significant art galleries before.  Many pieces are from private collections and some are not allowed to be photographed.

Finally there is an exhibit of 16th and 17th century Venetian glassware, chalices, goblets and glasses of exquisite detail and fineness.
When we step into the courtyard it is raining so we pop back into the cafe for a snack lunch [or as we might say, dinner in the Doge’s Palace] and by the time we return outside it is dry.  Being late afternoon many cruise sheep have obediently followed their dedicated flag or umbrella back to their ship and St Mark’s is not at all crowded as we look around. 

The white coated waiters at Lavena and other cafes are serving their customers with drinks as the band plays.  The €7 espresso attracts a cover charge of €7 and the same extra for music but plenty of people are happy to pay €21 for a sip of coffee.
Under the arcades we pass the glass and lace souvenirs and stop opposite Hotel Cavalletto where a fleet of gondolas operate like an airport taxi rank.  We get a close look at these unique craft; the hulls are skewed and biased so they go in a straight line with the offside oar; all are painted a uniform black so ostentatious owners could not flaunt their wealth but little areas can be decorated with silver or gold and all have the vestigial rope cutter ‘F’ stem-post; Furnishings range from piped and buttoned leather seats to an old stool with a velvet cushion.

On this cooler day the gondoliers lose some of their character as they wear coats over the traditional striped shirt.  We watch a few paddle off  under the bridges, passengers with selfie sticks aloft, then return to St Mark’s and peek inside the exclusive Cafe Florian to see its palatial decor.

Then it's back to the pontoon to catch a vaporetto back to Rialto.
Ali and Grete climb the steps to the top of the only bridge over the Grand Canal and position for one of the classic views of Venice.  Some of the shops along the bridge are closed but there is still plenty to buy if a mask, tie or jewellery is on your list.

We had hoped to dine at Omnibus but we were delivered to Rialto-A by the No.2 instead of Rialto-B by a No.1.  A bridge makes it impossible for the wheelchairs to do the 30m journey and it would take maybe half an hour to get a No.2 to a common station and return by No.1.
No matter, another restaurant nearer the bridge does a good range at reasonable prices.  We get a table with a good view and enjoy our meal as dusk falls and the lights come on along the water’s edges.
Dinner over we get the next No.2 back to P. le Roma and enjoy seeing all of the buildings lit up as well as a rising moon over the city. Inside the hotels we can see huge chandeliers in the rooms and ornate furnishings, belying the scruffiness of their exteriors.
The first bus for our route is too full to think about but we’re first in the queue when the next arrives.  Grete and the two chairs block access until Ali pulls out the ramp.  With its warning buzzer sounding, the bus won’t go anywhere until we are in place.  Once underway the driver is imagining himself as Alberto Ascari or maybe Valentino Rossi, taking the bendy-bus around the roundabouts as if he’s trying to catch its tail, but we alight shaken not stirred and return to the campsite for a nightcap.
Fantastic day in a fabulous city.

VIA VENEZIA

Sometime during the water filling fiasco the water filler neck got damaged and this morning the cap won’t lock.  So after servicing we have to tape the cap in place with duct tape.
We leave Camping Covelo promising ourselves we won’t wait so long before returning again.
Our drive today is a largely uneventful run along the autostrada towards Venice, where we see the Lombardy region give way to the Veneto and Friuli region which is more attractive with farming and vineyards, notably Valpollicella.  We make good progress apart from some minor hold ups at roadworks and nearly being diddled at a fuel station when Ali notices a receipt for €126 when we’ve had €106 worth of fuel.  The cashier slaps his ‘faulty’ till and gives her the €20 note that was no doubt destined for his pocket.
We reach Venice and find Camping Venizia where we park to check in.  The German who is checking in takes umbrage at where Nick has parked Mary*Lou, despite it being a box marked P - Check In Only.  Words are exchanged until Nick tells him to read the sign, more words then Nick asks if he is the new campsite manager, and if not, then stop ordering people around where he has no authority.  He finishes checking in and manages to move his van easily so why fuss?
We park and rest for the afternoon.

BARGAIN HUNT

Friday is market day in Iseo.  We walk to town where the main square looks very different market traders’ vans with wide awnings are parked close together with their stalls laid out filling the roads and paths.  On sale is everything from brass padlocks to padded bras.  Curtains, clothing, cookware, shoes, watches and tools among many other things.  Ali buys a big leather handbag in which things are bound to get lost and Nick gets a lightweight padded raincoat.
We rendezvous with N+G and find a table at Idrovolante on a terrace overlooking the harbourside, for lunch.  As we are eating, the market is packing away and once all of the items for sale have been loaded the vans turn into Transformers.  The awnings which spread behind, in front and to the sides of the vans, at least quadrupling their areas, all fold like a complex origami puzzle into a box on the roof.  One by one they fold up and drive off returning the centre of town to its normal views.

N+G go to the boat pier to do the boat trip we did yesterday while we go to find ice cream which we eat watching the boat set off.
The temperature has dropped a bit as we go back to site.  Once there, Ali goes about the simple task of popping a couple jerry cans of water into the tank.  The pump doesn’t work so we fiddle a bit but no luck.  Our Dutch neighbour comes and offers us his spare one.  We connect wires to it, then the plastic pipe then find the pump won’t fit into our jerry can.  Another camper offers us a bucket.  It’s a complete fiasco and we give up and return the items to their owners.  In the end we get a few litres in using Nick W’s funnel.
Then we try to wind the awning in.  None of the push button simplicity the market vans employ.  The wind and slope have knocked it out of alignment and once again Mary*Lou is attracting an audience.  Eventually Ali, Nick W and the Dutchman with his broom get it back into place.
Soon afterwards we all go up to the restaurant, inside tonight, for our last meal here.  As ever the food is delicious and waiter, Andrea, sings as he works.
We say our goodbyes and return to the vans, very tired and very replete.

AROUND THE LAKE

Today we are doing our own things; N+G go to explore on the motorbike, get some tidying done then go the the site restaurant for lunch.  We each have a simple pasta dish, but the flavours of home made pasta cooked al dente with a simple sauce and ragu are way beyond the sum of their parts.
After lunch we go into town and after a little wander about we buy tickets for a boat ride.  €6.00 each if we don’t get off at any of the stops.  The boat, SEBINO, arrives, we board and sit outside near the bow, and the boat powers out into the lake.  We can see the campsite away to our right before the first stop at Sulzano.  Then we cross to the island’s main town of Pescharia where we have disembarked in the past.  The ferry goes all the way around the island stopping five times in all and giving us views of the parts we haven’t seen before.   Everything is lit differently on the other side, colourful little houses with loggias and wisteria.

Having previously described the lake and mountains the superlatives to do it any more justice won’t come.  It’s a beautiful ride and we consider ourselves lucky to witness what we see.  At Sale Marasino  there is a plain church of off-white stone with a large gilded fresco.   We stop one more at Sulzano then across to the island for two more stops before the return to Iseo.  The round trip has taken just under two hours.

Back in town away from the water and wind of the boat’s movement warmth returns to our faces and arms.  We sit for a coffee but locals are starting on aperitifs which, as is typical in Italy, are accompanied with crisps, nuts and olives.  So it’s a beer for Nick and prosecco for Ali plus crisps and olives in the sunshine.
After a slow walk back to the site in time for dinner at site, superb steaks cooked to perfection and melt in the mouth.

LARGO LAGO

It’s what we call stand-still days.  After a week on the road we like to stop, no driving, no planning, no timetable or commitments.  Plus it’s a rare event for us to use a campsite, but Camping Covelo is a pleasant place to be.
The thunder and rain in the night have cleared away the haze and the morning sun lights up the mountains on the far shore.  Squadrons of ducks are prowling around the vans looking for breakfast crumbs.  When the boxer dog steps out of a nearby van they scramble back towards the water causing a chap sitting on the edge to duck himself and cover his head.
At lunchtime we go to the site restaurant for a meal, which we enjoy sitting out in sunshine.  The lake is smooth and the colours are bright.  Away in the distance is a series of horizons formed by more and more distant ranges of mountain peaks of the Alps or Dolomites, we try guessing the distance to the furthest: 20, 40 80 miles?  We just don’t know, but the ridges fade from high definition of the island of Monte Isola in the middle of the lake, to shadowed ranges to wispy splashes like a watercolour wash.  Whatever the facts, it’s an enchanting and mesmerising scene.
After lunch we wander into town and linger on the waterside promenade.  It’s our third time at Iseo but its charm never dwindles.  The scum-ball and bas relief colouring of the plaster-work, Garibaldi’s statue and fountain, flower pots, cafes and ice cream shops, always with the lake and surrounding mountains in view.

We sit in a shady square with granites [gra-neet-as] frozen drinks bought from a nearby gelateria then go to the ferry station to check the routes across the lake.
Later we find the supermarket and buy milk and a few other bits.  Opposite the supermarket 9 or 10 moho’s are parked in what must be a camperstop.  Normally we would be fine in such a place but on this occasion we would concede the view from the campsite is worth paying for.
We wander back to Covelo and have a beer at the lakeside, just the sloshing of water and the chatter of the ducks to listen to.
In the evening we all go to the restaurant again.  We have reserved an outside table but the evening is cooling rapidly.  When we go through the indoor bit and onto the terrace the big patio heaters actually make it warmer outside.  Our main courses are followed by tiramisu with limoncello.  Nick fails to notice the flaming sugar cube and burns his finger on it turning the plate around.  But a slightly charred pinkie cannot spoil the beautiful sunset, twinkling lights all over the hillsides, romantic Italian crooning music from the bar and comforting fullness of a delicious meal.

CRUISING TO THE LAKE

Everyone is up except the Italian, who is no doubt sleeping off last night’s grog.  His French drinking companion leaves a sticky note on the door.  We chat for a bit with a couple from Perth before setting off towards the Autostrada.  After all the recent mountains today’s scenery is flat and wide open, becoming quite industrialised once we join the motorway.
We are making good progress until the first toll station.  Ali puts in our ticket and payment card but the card gets stuck.  There is a babble from the speaker so Ail presses the help button and tells them the card is stuck.  Seconds later the card spits out like a bullet, landing under the van.  Then out comes the obligatory ‘pay-later’ till roll, the barrier goes up and we are on our way.
Roadworks and scores of trucks around the north of Milan means the two vans get separated.  We stay in lane one as trucks overtake, waiting for N+G to catch up with us but next thing they are way ahead having gone into lane three to speed past the convoy hiding us from view.  After a text message to them we catch up and resume our own mini convoy.
The next toll works as intended and we leave the motorway for the last 10 miles of our journey.  It has cost €18.30 for just over 100 miles of smooth, fast toll road.
At some point during our journey today we pass a milestone,  or more specifically the 50,000th mile we have travelled together with Mary*Lou.
We exit a tunnel and immediately turn off, remembering we had missed this exit last time we were here, then see the blue of Lake Iseo as the bottom of the hill.
We check in at Camping Covelo with the same warm welcome we enjoyed on our previous two stays here.  Our pitches are second row just back from the lake’s edge.
We chill out for the afternoon watching ducks and paddle-boarders on the smooth azure water.  As dusk falls various little lights appear around many of the vans and lights twinkle across the water from the far shore.