A dedicated follower of fashion

I have lived in Italy for the past six years, or maybe it is seven years, I forget dates much like I forget birthdays and anniversaries. But one thing that is hard to forget, is I am living in the fashion capital of the world.

Canali Spring Summer 2013

Canali Spring Summer 2013

Even old biddies on bicycles, get in on the act. They make sure they have their best fur coat on and sometimes they feel it is necessary to carry two hand bags; one to match the clothes and one to match the bike.

Old biddie on bike

(I am not normally very good at acknowledging where my pics come from, but please take a trip to Italian Confetti the snapper of this pic)

I have squeezed the following fashion picture in for all you women bloggers. Ladies, note the six packs, following my diet and my ride to Germany on the back of Franco’s bike I hope to obtain one of these. P.S I have lost 4 kilos somewhere, so a small round of applause please.

Hunky men with six packs, for the female bloggers

Hunky men with six packs, for the female bloggers

So where was I? Oh yes, we have a delegation from Mrs Sensible’s family staying for a couple of weeks. So last Tuesday, or maybe it was Wednesday, I drove to Milan airport to meet them and snapped the following picture.

High fashion at Milan airport

High fashion at Milan airport

By now, you regulars will already know where I am heading with this post. I am a dedicated follower of fashion. I always make sure my flip flops match my cut off jeans and t shirt, that is  providing, Mrs Sensible doesn’t tell me to go back to the bedroom and change into trousers and a nice linen shirt.  However, I do occasionally need to wear a business suit and following the example of the lady at the airport I think I have found one.

My next business suit

My next business suit

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A black sheep on a motorbike.

Bikers

Bikers


I received a phone call from Franco last week; well to be honest Mrs Sensible received the call, I just stood next to her saying, what does he want? Did he set up the meeting? Is he coming over? Very reminiscent of my childhood. The days when my mum would answer the phone, and then decide if I could go out to play, or stay overnight at a friend’s house.

Franco asked Mrs Sensible if I was allowed to go out to play on Saturday. Franco and four of his friends, were going to the mountains on their motor bikes and I had been invited. Mrs Sensible said I could go. I was told to wear a heavy jacket, big boots and bring some spending money.

Proper bikers boots

Proper bikers boots


I understood the bit about the spending money; but the big boots and heavy coat seemed a bit of an overkill. We had just swapped Italian winter for Italian Summer with 10 days of spring squashed in-between. The temperature was forecast for 27°c.

Saturday arrived and at 6.00 am I jumped out of bed crawled out of bed and threw into the back of my mini two heavy coats and put on a thick pair of walking socks and my big hiking boots. I then set of for Franco’s house.

His bike is a Moto Guzzi California EV 1100cc, a really great looking bike, as I arrived, Franco was cleaning little bits of dust from the gleaming paintwork. Bits of dust that was invisible to the naked eye. The day was already starting to become hot, so I asked Franco, why the big boots and heavy coat? In case you fall off!!!

Franco/s Moto Guzzi

Franco/s Moto Guzzi

So complete with my safety boots, gloves and coat, we climbed aboard his bike and set off Tto meet up with his mates in Torino. Driving Racing down the country roads, I began to notice how every time, I leaned in sync with Franco, or when he braked and then accelerated away, my stomach muscles pulled. I decided this would be excellent exercise and by the time we reached Cresole Reale in the Alps, I would have a stomach like a six pack.

A six pack

A six pack

In Torino we met up with his friends and set off at break neck speed for the mountains. It was great fun, when Franco leaned to the left I leaned with him, when he cornered right I leaned to the right. I have to add I was hanging on for dear life. After 30 mins of chasing through villages and country roads, I managed to relax a little. I was just admiring the river that was running alongside the road when Franco dropped the bike over to his left and went haring around a corner, I was still sat bolt upright and the bike gave a little wobble as Franco tried to control it. I say a little wobble, but we were racing along at 120 kph. I decided not to watch the scenery, but in future to just watch the road.

As we climbed up into the mountings, I developed an itch on my left nostril, just a little itch. But the more I tried to ignore it, the more it itched. In fact the itch started to include part of my cheek. My helmet was a full face helmet that belonged to Franco’s wife, it was a tad too small, and I couldn’t work out how to raise the visor. I was hampered by a thick pair of gloves, ignorance on how to open it and the fear of falling off Franco’s bike.

I tried sticking a finger in between the helmet and my neck, moving the helmet with the hope of catching my nose on the internal padding and as a last resort I tried to see if my tongue was long enough to reach my nose. After all, lizards can lick their own eyeball, surely I could reach my nose. Please bear in mind, I was still whacking along at 120 kph and trying to remember to lean with Franco.

As well as the itchy nose, I discovered the visor would suddenly steam up, and no I didn’t decide to lick it clean. But you will be pleased to know, that even though I had an itch, couldn’t see for toffee, and the helmet that was a bit too small and was giving me brain crush. I didn’t fall off.

Helmets that don't steam up

Helmets that don’t steam up


Climbing up the mountain we came across a sign and barrier that said road closed due to heavy snow. The Italians looked at each other, shrugged and in true Italian fashion, ignored the warning and drove around the barrier.
Finally we had arrived; it had taken two bum numbing hours. My six pack now felt like a crushed coke can, my bum hurt and my arms ached from hanging on.

No chance of a six pack

No chance of a six pack


After a couple of photos and a bit of graffiti, we decided to drive back to the nearest village for a beer.

Pecora Nera

Pecora Nera

The snow plough had cleared the road

The snow plough had cleared the road

While we were sat drinking and discussing how I had nearly ended up as a smudge along the road and the episode of the itch. They asked if I wanted to join them in October, for a little ride to Munich for the Oktoberfest.

Oktoberfest.

Oktoberfest.


If I am a good boy and Mrs Sensible says yes, I will go and buy a helmet and jacket for a bit of serious beer drinking.

The bikes and the bikers, thanks guys.

A great set of Guys

A great set of Guys


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Stefano Cucca – the Sardinian man who left his home to bicycle around the world

Even a mad Englishman would not attempt the following. Re Blogged from Jennifer in Sardinia
http://laavventura.wordpress.com/

On June 8th, 2013, 34-year-old Stefano Cucca left his home in Sorso, Sardinia to bicycle around the world to promote sustainable, eco-friendly lifestyles. Thus far, Stefano has ridden 30,000 kilometers and he hasn’t left Sardinia, yet.

The idea for this project came to him on one of his many voyages across the globe.

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Weekly Photo Challenge: Fleeting

Crop dusting

Mario the pazzodico crop duster

A point and press picture.

I have seven photos of this lunatic flying low over our house. Six of the photos I took, feature  either  the front  of the plane or just the tail of the plane, as he disappeared over the roof tops. Twice I nearly toppled over the veranda as I stood on tip toes trying to capture him.

Mario was spraying the rice fields, to kill the mosquitoes that breed in the paddy fields. He didn’t do a very good job because they still ate me  alive.

I nearly killed my self installing the mosquito netting on the windows, I will up load the post when my hands stop shaking.

P.S I think this is the first post that doesn’t mention Mrs Sensible

 

 

This post is for the Weekly photo challenge: fleeting

Weekly photo challenge: the sign says

Share a picture of a SIGN and explain why you chose that picture!

I don’t normally do the photo challenges, however here are two photos from Italy.

One way only.

One way only ?

Italians see road signs and traffic lights, as advisory rather than obligatory.

To give you a couple of examples, I stopped at a red traffic light while we were driving in Catania Sicily. The guy in the car behind me, started honking his horn and waving his hand at me. I looked at Mrs Sensible and said, “what’s his problem, the light is still red!”

Mrs Sensible explained, “the light may be red, but there are no cars crossing the junction so it is safe to go”

It is said that the drivers in Northern Italy are better than the drivers in the south but:-

I was  driving a friend home one night, she was directing me through the traffic, as we approached her apartment, she said “turn left here”

“I can’t it is a no entry”

It doesn’t matter I am a resident

But it doesn’t say, no entry except residents, it is a one way street!!

Pecora, it doesn’t matter, my apartment is just up the street. I have lived here 15 years and I always turn left up here.

Don't use a pedestrian crossing to cross,

Don’t use a pedestrian crossing to cross,

This photo was taken in Calabria.

When you come to Italy on your holiday, please do not use the zebra crossings when you want to cross the street. There are a number of reasons.

1) You will annoy the car drivers who use them to park there cars.

2) They are very dangerous, no really they are. As you start to cross the road, you will be thinking  you are safe and the car will stop for you. I am here to tell you, it is not so. The driver is thinking, mmm pizza today, I had better phone my mum and make sure she has put the beer in the fridge. He will not have even noticed you, not unless you have long legs and a short skirt. And even then he will still run you over.

When I moved here, I drove Mrs Sensible’s car from the UK to Italy, I took the scenic route and drove through, Belgium, Switzerland a bit of Germany… I didn’t have one near miss or accident.

Two weeks after arriving here, I stopped at a zebra crossing in Alessandria, to let an old guy cross the road. The old guy never moved he just stood there and watched the Ford Transit Van redesign my boot and bumper.

While we were exchanging insurance details, the van driver asked Mrs Sensible “Why did he stop?”

Because he is English!

This post is for the WordPress Weekly Photo Challenge.