Over nine days of hard driving, hard drinking and virtually
no sleep, we travelled 3600 miles and somehow, though exactly how is
something of a mystery, kept track of where we'd been. It went a little
something like this...
22.09.05
An early start to be at the studios of Kerrang Radio by 06:30 –
joined by the breakfast show's roving reporter, Monk for some early
morning fun and frolics around town, hitting the airwaves with the dulcet
tones of Jenna “She’s Blowing a Bit” Dallas and a
stereo full of Velvet Revolver. Kerrang had kindly undertaken a few
audio mods while in the posession of the car and our ears were really
going to pay the price. Received our Kerrang goodie-bag of 700 Trojans,
lighters, pens, key rings and badges, plus a bag of onions for France.
Joined by Raquel, the pneumatic blonde who took her position in the
back seat. DJs and staff sign the car and we’re on the road by
09:00.
Collect Andrew and depart Sandhurst at 13:30, four-up
and heading for Dover. Meet up with the Team 36 - Mare Riders at the
M20 services and see the BEN Merc boys to swap tales of last minute
MOTs and test the somewhat limited supersoaking powers of the event
specified Triple Shot. Arrive at Dover and patiently await the SeaCat
with Airwolf playing at 140dB, until the mock-Lotus Carlton crashes
into the back of us, nudging us into stage at passport control and the
fun begins.
Arrive Calais 19:45 and the first breakdown of the journey
– not a rally car, but a Shitroen BX refusing to start and very
much in our way. Finally off the ferry a couple of exhaust scraping
ramps and some wheelspin later and have no idea where our hotel, or
pre-registration are happening, so drive around until we find a stray
banger and follow the oil. Turn up to the delights of some awful wrecks
– its an amazing sight. Checked into the Etap Hotel Calais Coquelles
Tunnel Sous la Manche. Grand name, not-so-grand hotel. Fights for the
single bed may begin later, for now, we need fuel, Kronenbourg and a
buffalo steak.
Fight decided by default in G’s favour. S &
H are more than a little tipsy and snuggle up for the night with Raquel.
23.09.05
Spot a Ferrari 355 and decide to start a coolest car competition. Which
lasts as long as that car, not withstanding sightings of bangers which
will continue for the next 3,500 miles.
Having ‘bass tested’ the three-hotel complex
with a touch of the Chemical Brothers at 08:30, we hit the hypermarket
carpark to the sound of the A-Team theme, instantly establishing ourselves
as the rowdy team of the rally. With the loudest stereo and the meatiest
of Vibe subs. Parking diagonally across the space and indulging in a
spot of air guitar. We have landed.
Mio stickers applied and generous quantities of Trojan
jonnies, Kerrang and MSportUK.com stickers given away, Jenna reluctantly
fires up and we promise to never run those powerful tunes without the
engine running.
09:00 - Rally start - Steve does well and is told off
by the rally organisers for gratuitous wheelspin off the start line.
Continues at sensible pace averaging 130kph and the days challenge of
Car-Photo-Snooker begins. At 14:03, while making our way along the A4,
H has a bit of an accident. “I’ve got a bad cough”
is his only defence as we scramble for photographs of his drenched crotch.
18:00 - Convoy with Team Mare Riders takes a wrong turn.
Then the Mare Riders have a ‘mare and Pete’s weekend bonfire
is well and truly pissed upon. Comment dit-on en Francais, “Get
a quote and I’ll send you the cash – don’t contact
my insurance company”. Saxo rear lights and bumper cleared off
the road and we’re ready to roll by 18:30. [To be fair if I was
in England and 2 car loads of idiot French hooligans smashed into the
back of my car at a blind dual carriageway junction and started taking
photos of the ensuing carnage I would have been in a worse mood. But
I still cant quite believe he wouldn’t accept a straight swap,
one Volvo 360 with hand painted realistic flame detail for a newish
Saxo?!]
19:15 - Border crossing to Switzerland was fortunately
incident free. The value of our car doubled by the addition of Swiss
motorway Vignette. Rapid repairs made to Mare Riders’ headlights
with the help of Mio sponsor stickers. Probably useful to have lights
now it’s getting dark. Not so useful to have lights which only
illuminate the roofs of tunnels, better switch on those fogs.
Arrive at Hotel Metzgern at 21:40. Rally organisers refuse
to check our photos of thousands of pointless an blurred pictures of
passing cars (including a pink, a brown and a Ferrari!) as they “just
have to go for dinner”. The advice to “find someone else
in a red shirt” doesn’t go down well as they’re all
sitting together at the table safe in the knowledge they’re fed,
watered and have a bed for the night. Our reservation isn’t worth
the paper it’s printed on, so we go on a wild Swiss goose chase
to find alternative accommodation at Landgasthof Sand in Kerns (see
our recommendations below).
Spend an evening with the Mare Riders having fantastic
local cuisine of Bratwurst, Schnitzels etc with copious draft beers
and also bed, and fine breakfast, leave us little more than £30
lighter. Superb – we recommend the 2 litre boot of beer in the
secret downstairs bar with DJ Otzi on the decks and a slightly council
estate but very fit barmaid. Our tip is to order bottle from the bottom
shelf and watch as she winks at you.
24.09.05
Eventually find the car park at 09:30, more by luck than judgement and
certainly not based on the useless directions in the pack. Fire up the
tunes only to be told to turn them down so that we can all be herded
into a corner away from the cars to have our picture taken... What about
the cars?!?
10.30 – Beautiful views over the alps all morning
are obscured by seemingly hundreds of A4 photos Kerrang taped over every
surface of the Jennas soft interior, excellent driving non the less
and the first true test for clutch, brakes and the 1.7i powerplant!
Dangerous reversing up alpine passes, standing in the middle of the
road and crossing over blind bends to check whether the railings look
correct, trees are in the right position and whether the cropping is
accurate enough to get the points for the photo challenge.
Stop on our route at Grimsellpass visitor centre around
12:00 and Kerrang up the event sponsor’s Smart. Drive on to the
Furkapass, our highest point of the day at 2431m and the Oberallpass
at 2048m. It dawns on us around 15:00 that due to the fact there are
no mileage guides or timings and that “this will be an easy day”
is the most far fetched statement in the handbook we calculate an ETA
at the start of Stelvio pass well after 19:00. We have a thirst on and
certainly don’t want to be setting off up the pass in the dark.
15:03 - Change of plan. We fire into a local Spar and
load up on every snack imaginable - Mmmm apples puffs with real cream.
And a couple of crates of beer for about 2 quid each. Give up on any
hope of finding Stelvio and rip down the photos in disgust at a(nother)
full memory card of graffiti, bits of road and trees at jaunty angles.
17:00 – Were motoring now. Steve shows fine prowess
with the racing line, excellent engine braking and manages to flash
an Impreza to get out of our way heading toward St Moritz. The beers
are well and truly cracked into at this stage and inflatable Raquel
is in her element with Benny hill on repeat as we surprise every passing
biker with her 32GG stats...
17:20 - Need the toilet. Steve wont stop.
17:30 - Really, really need the toilet and Steve is driving faster than
ever.
17:40 - Finally give in and overflow the 1.2L capacity of the triple
shots...
21:00 - Finally arrive in Tirano, Northern Italy too late
to eat, already a little worse for wear, so check in to the Albergo
Meuble Stelvio and head over the road to the Hotel Corona to continue
drinking. Sell triple shot for 20 Euros beer money. The only thing we
got a sniff of from the Mio boys. Continue drinking until drunken Mel
loses consciousness. “There’s that girl here. I don’t
think she’s dead cos she’s breathing, but she won’t
say anything”. Tidy up the mess, foolishly crash the car into
the Mare Riders and stumble upstairs to continue drinking. Ouch
25.09.05
In the words of the rally handbook “Today, you will be the coolest
person who has ever lived. You will be Clint Eastwood in For a Few Dollars
More.” And so starts the most ridiculous day of the rally, a few
hundred Clint Eastwood’s and a water fight of biblical proportions.
The water fight continues for the next 40km along the passes with water
bombs (thanks Trojan) lobbed at every hairpin.
Due to the consumption of "a couple of beers"
and a "couple of grappa chasers" the night before we lost
all sense of time, direction and use of sight. From now on we were flying
by wire. Today’s challenge is another photo challenge, but only
required five photographs at pump 3 of the five Esso garages we are
to pass on our way to Viterbo. Not a bad challenge particularly, although
there were only three Esso garages.
Northern Italian bank machines appear to have gone down
so cash only for petrol, though it is advisable to offer the attendants
a cigar to smoke while they fill you up as you get a free windscreen
clean and signatures for the roof. Female Italian Polizei also look
particularly domineering with jodhpurs, leather boots, fitted little
jackets and automatic weapons. No-one dared take her picture on the
bonnet though.
After getting to the finish – well, an undisclosed
location near a fountain with a lot of other shitty bangers double parked
around. We made our way following arguing organisers and were ‘judged’
on our cowboy outfits and knowledge of the Hollywood western film industry
between 1955 and 1985. Very unfairly we think, as suede was not deemed
to be sheepskin and although hats were we the correct style the shade
of brown was slightly wrong. We also misguidedly prepared by only watching
the films rather than learning about actors previous careers and character
histories. We were scored by the most miserable judge imaginable who
didn’t take kindly to our involvement in a water fight mid quiz.
After avoiding the gastronomic advice of the despondent organiser -
“you have to go to this restaurant and you will get a great meal”
based on the rumour we had heard from the Sarnen 18 Euro extravaganza,
we made our way back to the Albergo Biscetti. Wandered down the road
to a beautiful pizzaria at about 22:30 and settled in for the night
with Italian families, cold, cold beers and waitresses who looked as
if they had walked out of a local Pirelli calendar shoot.
26.09.05
Day four is treasure hunt day, but arriving in the Viterbo town square
a little later than the organisers had hoped, we opted to seek out our
own treasure. By this point we had given up on challenges, had no idea
of any points table, no feedback of who had dropped out or any idea
of how the Mio ‘cheat Nav’ systems were distributed. Our
suspicion of disorganisation was compounded when we opened all the envelopes,
immediately annulling the challenge, removed the map and threw all but
the 'directions' to the Pintemare in the bin.
We were soon cheered on by the fact that wearing a toga
while heading toward Rome gets the attention of more beautiful Italian
girls who like to stand on bonnets of cars. We drive through Civitavecchia
with numerous coffee, pastry and sprite stops to have lunch by the sea
in Santa Severa, complete with Italians arguing on the beach. In opera.
One speedy, 2 hour, lunch with beers later we head south on the A2 with
Steve learning to drive Italian.
This is the point that we scared ourselves. We invented
‘intertaking’. Realising that in Italy, the road markings,
when present, are merely a guide for Italians to follow when they’re
a bit drunk after lunch, we threw all the rules out of the window and
went for it. Four lanes of traffic do fit on a three lane road, comfortably
(as long as you use the hazards).
Then there was the incident with the hat. As we were
driving a UK right hooker the passenger was left free to entertain themselves
with a new game: a) take 1 cowboy hat and hold in steering wheel position
on the left side of the car, b) have fun. NB this game is banned in
contraflow. Apparently it shits up Audi drivers travelling at 200 kph
when you seemingly swerve toward them whilst they’re overtaking
(this is merely a unsubstantiated rumour we heard) however, this is
also the best way to learn useful new Italian phrases.
Turning off the A2 at 17:00 we know we can only be 20
miles from the mystical finish and only have to find a hotel before
cracking on with the beers for the night. We drive South down the SS7,
the most Southerly of all the SS7s; it was straight, in fact it was
very long and straight, very, very long, very straight with lots and
lots of signs on it. Also lots of traffic. Lots and lots of traffic.
One lane became two lanes as streams of cars were overtaking streams
of cars. Constant sounding the horn, pulling out in front of people,
scraping wing mirrors and general life or death manoeuvres – this
was the taste of what was to come. This was the warm up for driving
in Naples. We passed over a canal and past many Agip stations all complete
with selections of prostitutes to rival Raquel.
We entered the outskirts of Naples on the SS7bis assuring
ourselves that the Holiday inn would be 'just around the corner'. How
wrong we were.
3 hours of solid Naples traffic was amazing. Stereo off,
camera equipment hidden, windows up and doors locked, the heaters on
full to draw some of the excess heat out of the engine bay. We were
very scared, and very sweaty. All the cars were dented, in fact we were
almost the most prized motor on the road. That is, apart from the immaculate
Porsche Cayennes with 2 metres of space around them being driven by
men with weapons. We didn’t wave at the Mafia.
What we did do is make the most of our Italian driving
skills. Perpendicular to cars we sounded our horn, drove over kerbs
and witnessed people driving the wrong way round roundabouts to carry
out U-turns. A dual carriageway became a slow moving five lane jam with
scooters in all the spaces and people scraping the central reservation
to pull off that last-minute overtaking manoeuvre. That was when we
hit the ambulance. Well, technically it his us as we cut it up in traffic,
not our fault officer.
A coffee stop, 2 crates of Astro Nazzuro purchased and
a change of pants later we set off to find which SS7 the bloody hotel
was hidden on. Vital text information lead us to believe it was within
a mile of Castle Volturno which is about 20 miles from Naples on a road
that distinctly does not head due South. Back up the SS7bis in the dark,
across the actual SS7 and onto the SS7qtr we witnessed the pros displaying
and warming their wares on open fires in old tyres. Perhaps tyres of
dismembered punters who foolishly purchased their diseased goods.
A few U-turns, several canals and a whole host of curvy
arrow signs later we saw a certain Volvo 360 with blue and silver flames
parked outside a hotel. We had arrived. Leaving check-in for later we
downed the beers from the boot and raced over the road to the finish
line. Arriving at the Pinetamare at 22:30 we thought everything was
over, in fact, the beer had not yet even begun, though not a single
'organiser' was in sight. The night was yet young. Swimming pool fun,
the police filling the drinking funnel and a nightclub filled with only
sweaty men talking about bangers were some of our last memories. That
is, until we returned to the car at 05:00 having forgotten to check
in and discovering the 10 foot security gates well and truly shut. 30
mins of fence climbing later we finally manhandled Steve over the top,
we opened a couple more beers and fell asleep in the warm folds of Jennas
interior.
With the rally over, the adverture was only just getting
started...
27.09.05
We awoke at 8:30 with a hammering on the window of our car by the irate
hotelier. Realising that an argument in Italian was the last thing we
needed we sheepishly opened the door. He offered us a vat of ristretto
and cream doughnuts and pointed us downstairs to the bathrooms to freshen
up. What an awesome bloke, he does not deserve to run a hotel in such
an armpit of Italy. A final interview with Kerrang via phone and a cup
of water into the coolant, and we were on our way.
Some serious motoring to be done with about 600miles to
our beds for the night. Entertainment included Naples style overtaking
manoeuvres and an encounter with two very pretty Italian ladies in a
dinky red Mini. Gestures, handwritten signs, cowboy hats and blown kisses
later they requested we pulled into the services which we duly did.
They turned out to be heading to the international high school(!) back
in St Moritz but signed the roof and posed for the obligatory shot on
the bonnet nontheless.
Serious miles were laid down and we arrived only 20minutes
late for dinner at a friends villa in the olive groves overlooking Imperia.
Tiredness was only staved off with several beers and fine Italian food.
28.09.05
No miles to travel today so it was a lazy morning all round, soaking
up the sun and also the Italian coffees.
Afternoon trip along the smallest coast road to Monte
Carlo with the windows down and tunes on full blast through every Riviera
resort. Into Monte Carlo and navigated our way round the circuit Naples
style. It is surprising how quickly those Lambos can stop when you pull
out in front of them. Rumbled past Casino, lined with Bentleys and Ferraris
in Jenna, Ace of Spades at VolMax. After we all had completed our obligatory
laps of the circuit with race-style driver changes we parked up at the
swimming pool section to admire the view. We happened across the TNT
Crew of Monte Carlo skating on the tarmac so decided to invite them
to jump the car. Which they did. Superb skills boys and we hope the
final handfuls of Trojans got put to good use!
29.09.05
North to the Alps, through Turin with H driving like an Italian and
pulling off a textbook “U-turn on a dual carriageway with oncoming
traffic from all directions” manoeuvre. At this point we needed
to switch to jazz. Several left turns at no-left-turn intersections,
a lot less clutch, a couple of near misses and quite a bit of tyre smoke
later we were motoring towards Mt Blanc.
Chose to go East of Lac Leman with highest point of the
whole trip over St Bernard pass at 2479m. Unfortunately a cloud had
become snagged on the peak and drizzle was falling. Not helped by freezing
cold temperatures and zero visibility, we still had a great time and
enjoyed a well earned hot chocolate on the descent.
After a large Zurich traffic jam we passed Friborg and
stumbled upon the Alpenklub in Plafeien. What a find it was. No other
guests, the chefs recommendations for dinner and a load of locals singing
'oompa' songs complete with yodelling and harmonies! 18 litres of fondue
with wine and washed down with some shots of, what can only be described
as leaded petrol, we decided dessert would soak up the alcohol. Three
double vodka lemon sorbets later we felt even more pissed than before.
Several steins of beer after that, and we joined in the local maths
teachers 50th birthday party, toasted the mayor on many occasions and
cracked into champagne with a local lesbian society (they could have
actually been librarians. Or a choir – it was hard to tell). We
got bought many rounds of beer by the other revellers and when we got
in whiskys for all the birthday guests we discovered it was a free bar,
nice. The evening finished when we hit the record for 'number of drunken
confused Swiss people to stand on a battered Volvo 440' and made our
way to bed in the early hours.
30.09.05
Wake up in cheese-induced stupor, and struggle through breakfast before
hitting the road on the long blast up to Belgium via France, Germany
and Luxembourg. 100mph came up easily on the autobahns (if by 'easily'
you understand that a severe burning smell, loss of handling and strange
noises occurred above 95mph, as the bonnet began to flap). A sobering
curry-wurst for lunch at a superb German service station with many admiring,
envious glances from local motorists who had become bored with their
BMWs, Mercs and Audis and were after something just that little bit
different.
Another traffic jam in Luxembourg by all the people trying
to buy VAT free cigarettes and fuel and a confused Japanese tourist
not grasping the concept that they were only sold in packs of 200, not
20, and we were well on our way to Brussels. Still driving like Italians
we quickly learnt that Naples road rules are not applicable when ‘Priorité
a Droite’ is in force. Almost crashed three times on the cobbles
in rainy Belgium with leaves on the road and trains driving all over
the place.
Rounding off the continental leg with a night out on
the filet Americaine and tarte au pommes all followed by plenty Duvals
til the bar closed at 05:00.
01.10.05
We’d planned to be on the road at 08:00, but woke up at 08:30.
Hit the road very shortly after to meet that ferry. Slight panic when
we were still in traffic round Gent but the moment we were clear, up
came a suitably preposterous speed and we headed to Calais.
Safely through passport control by 12:45 and with cases
of wine purchased we spy the newlyweds Badly Drawn Kev and Spotty Banana
in the queue for the SeaCat and give them an obligatory Top Gun flypast.
Celebrations all round as we could probably push her onto the ferry
if she failed us now. Breakdown cover starts the other side of that
narrow piece of water. Bring her on home.
A quick trip into central London and we were greeted by
about 20 speed cameras in as many miles and a thunderstorm we mistook
for the apocalypse. Welcome home.
A fine Essex fish and chips and a real ale completed
the culinary tour and Kerrang HQ was only a short blast up the M40 to
Birmingham. An exhausting end to a mind blowing trip.
Footnote
During a trip which we can only describe as epic, we
have thoroughly realigned our concepts of what defines a "long
drive", whereby anything shorter than a four-hour cross-country
blast is relegated to simply nipping somewhere. Witness us, 'popping
down to Brands Hatch' for the morning. From Birmingham. We've also reached
an odd conclusion on the state of roads around Europe. Having witnessed
Naples rush hour first hand, Italian intertaking through tunnels, and
the lunacy of Brussells' priority system, the only driving that we ever
found anything less than entertaining was right back on our beloved
M40. If people are tailgating, straddling lanes and using the hard shoulder
to undertake, at least they're paying attention. It's a sad reflection
of our camera-plagued roads that we'd rather that, than having to pull
out to overtake someone half asleep at 65mph in the middle lane.
Don't fear Europe, get yourself to the Alps and experience
it for yourself. And if you want to really learn to drive,
visit Naples. It's amazing!
States of Emergency
In order to provide the right musical backdrop to our motoring adventure,
seven states of emergency were declared from our balls-out arrival to
extreme danger and possible risk of death...
1 – Rage Against the Machine – Killing in
the Name of : We have arrived
2 – Motorhead – Ace of Spades : 7 or 11, SnakeEyes Watchin'
You...
3 – Benny Hill Theme (Extended Ringmaster Mix) : Top Down / Tits
Out
4 – Top Gun Theme : Highway to the Dangerzone - I’m going
supersonic, I’ll be there in 30 seconds.
5 – Chili Peppers : Cruising the miles
6 – Paul Weller : Extreme Hangover
7 – Jazz, St Germain : Extreme Traffic / Lostness / Weather /
Night / Risk of death. ...We’re too close, I’m switching
to Jazz.
Recommended Accommodation:
If you think we were onto a good thing, or are just passing through
any of the towns we visited, we’d recommend staying at these places.
Landgasthof Sand
Stanserstrasse 100
CH-6064 Kerns
Tel: 041 660 12 78
Fax: 041 660 35 27
info@landgasthofsand.ch
www.landgasthofsand.ch |
Landgasthof Kirschen – Victor Scartazzini
Postfach 45, Dorfstrasse 2
1716 Plaffeien
Tel: 026 419 05 10
Fax: 026 419 05 11 |
