Back with road friendly Tomtom and so set course for Benevento avoiding toll roads. Whilst travelling across the small roads below Foggia I stopped for a meal at a restaurant, and then decided to fill up with fuel at the adjacent petrol station. It was one of those unattended stations where you can either use bank notes or credit cards. I duly inserted my card and when I tried to enter my pin the screen just stayed blank. I thought shit this machine is dead and I have just pushed in my only credit card. I thought for a while and I could see the edge of the card where you enter it into the slot, and realised that perhaps it had not actually gone in far enough. So with little extra to lose I took out another card and used that to push the first card further into the slot. Nothing seemed to happen and at this point a group of about six motorcyclists all on vintage Ducati machines rolled up for petrol. I indicated what had happened and set off back to the restaurant in the remote chance that they may be able to help. I had got about 30 yds when one of the Ducati riders shouted to me and the machine had decided to spit out my card. Needless to say I didn't try again but went on and found petrol at a manned station. The Ducati riders had all been wearing vests with numbers on in the 110 region, and as I was progressing I passed loads of riders travelling the other way with vest numbers up to 250. This must have been a big rally day for a Ducati vintage rider club.
Made a wrong turn in a town called Buonalbergo and Tomtom took me down the smallest cobbled streets I have ever ridden and then brought me out back on the route to Benovento.
Went across the top of Napoli and headed for a coastal town called Formia in the hope that I would be able to easily find a camping site by the coast.
The journey was extremely hot and I struggled with all the motorcycle gear. It is ok when you are moving at reasonable speed because the vents in the jacket direct the air around your upper body, but when you are travelling slowly in traffic or stationary then you quickly overheat, and no matter what speed you are doing it gets a bit warm in the testicle department.
Stopped at around 13:00 and found a lonely shaded place and took my boots and motorcycle gear off and slept for about an hour. Continued on to Formia and arrived about 17:00hrs. No obvious camping and when I asked at a petrol station the woman said I would have to go further along the coast. At Sperlonga I came across a decent sized camping place on the coast and pitched my tent in and amongst the other people in the "free tent" area. This didn't mean there was no cost, it was just the area where people with their own tents had to pitch.
After setting up went down to the beach and had a swim in the sea. The water was not very clean close to the coast, all plastic and paper etc. but when you swam out it was ok.
After the swim went back and had a shower and washed all my sweaty clothes, then off to the on site restaurant for a beer and evening meal.
The restaurant was right on the sea front, and the choice of food was very good. It was fairly quiet at 8:30pm when I was starting my meal, but by 10pm it was heaving with a number of large (15+) Italian family groups. It was nice to watch all the social greetings and behaviour as different members of a family group would arrive. It seemed as though they hadn't met each other for years, when I expect they were all on the beach with each other a couple of hours earlier.
After a couple of beers and a meal, it was getting on for 11pm and with the lack of sleep the night before I decided to head of to bed.
This campsite catered for families and teenagers and there was boom boom music playing. I thought that I would be able to sleep anyway so went to bed. No such luck, the music seemed to increase in intensity and continued till 1:30 in the morning. At last I thought peace and quiet, but no then groups of "young people" gradually drifted back over the next hour to the free camping area and decided to chat (shriek) to each other for the next hour. Gradually it all seemed to have quietened down and then I had this weird dream about somebody trying to get into my tent and me having to push them back out. I woke to hear drunken lads returning and struggling to find their own tent. It was about five in the morning. The next thing somebody falls onto the doorway of my tent, and I am up and fully awake in seconds. Amidst laughter from all his mates he eventually hauls himself up and manages to get to his own tent. I decide remaining quiet was the best way of dealing with the situation. Shouting at them was only likely to exacerbate the situation.
Thank goodness I was never a teenager like that !!!
More later
TOR
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