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Published: October 11th 2015
Cicily Day 1. The Journey to the Unknown
Why does flying anywhere involve getting up at an ungodly hour? Also, why do you always wake up before your alarm? I set the alarm on my phone for 4.45am for a 5.30 departure and sure enough I awoke at 4.35 so "I may as well get up, which was just as well since my taxi driver Andy landed at 5.20 having just dropped someone off at Leeds, Bradford Airport. Does that man ever sleep? However, the early start meant that we had a good run to Manchester and we were there in the hour and check in was quiet so I was through with bags dropped by 06.32. Through the inevitable queue though at security, which I got through without being searched, or bleeped at, miraculously. I had downloaded my boarding pass to my phone as an experiment and was something less to scrabble around for. This was ok until I got to Charles de Gaulle, Paris and I had no wifi so the pass for the next leg would not come up on screen. I eventually logged onto a free airport wifi and the problem was solved. I immediately saved
the screens as a photograph to ensure this did not happen again. A three hour wait now for the next leg to Rome, so a sandwich in the scruffy airport cafe and a 'Long Black' coffee, which should have been called a short black since it barely touched the sides. The weather is warm and sunny but Rome was forecast cloudy and rain - who needs that, we get enough of that in Clitheroe. As it happened, Clitheroe was sunny with a good forecast for several days. What am I heading into?
My new bike packed up nicely, but without the racking the case, which would not fit in the space available. I should cut it in half lengthwise and fit it in the box in two halves. Something to think about on my return home. How to split it yet keep its strength. Including my cycling shoes the box weighed in at 23kg, which was right on the limit. Perfect. I filled a pannier with clothes and kit, plus my helmet and that came to 5 1/2 kg, which was nicely under the 32 kg total allowed. The second pannier was filled with a few clothes, bar bag,
camera, iPad, noise cancelling headphones and a small book adding up to 4 1/2 kg, meaning I will not be loaded down with excess weight on the trip since I am told the hills are vicious. We will see.
The airports are obviously full of people speaking other languages than English and however much I tried I could not understand much of the French spoken, despite my 'O' level taken 100 years ago. So there is little chance with the Italian over the next two weeks.
As always, looking out of the window as we went over the Alps was a joy to behold with the craggy mountains covered in snow and riddled with stony tracks leading nowhere much - unless you are a trekker, or skier, I suppose.
Rome was as forecast, cloud and rain with the temperature at 20 degrees. The plane to Palermo was delayed over half an hour do to someone not getting on the flight and the baggage had to be retrieved. The plane was a bit used and the sound system would not work and the vinyl seats were a bit slippery so that when I sat down my knees slithered
forwards against the forward seat posts with my legs akimbo like Wilf the dog waiting for its tummy to be tickled. The short flights are also a bit of a let down on the meal front since the first flight had a brew only and the second one, which was a two hour flight, provided a very small brew and two miniature buns. The last flight was beset with turbulence causing the chap on my right to carry out some impromptu compression testing on the interconnecting arm rest. Needless to say we got neither buns nor brew with the stewards hiding in their bunker for much of the flight. When we were well above the rain clouds it was quite spectacular with all shapes of clouds 11.30glinting in the sun and forming mushrooms, tornados and other rare shapes.
On arrival at Palermo at 7pm in darkness and not getting my bags until 7.30 I decided to wait by the carousel for the rest of the gang to arrive, who were due in at 8.25pm. I had missed my planned bus which went at 7pm. This would then save me a taxi ride to the hotel from the main bus terminus plus the next bus was one hour away. A bus had been commissioned for them so it made sense to wait.
As we flew in I could see the hills on the coast projecting straight out of the ground vertically for 400 metres and now understand what Greg meant when he said the hills were savage. Let's hope we can go around a few rather than over them ( cyclists don't go up hills, they go over them).
Eventually some of the group members arrived in dribs and drabs but the nightmare had only just begone. Several were pieces of luggage missing, mostly the bikes. Others had their bikes but no luggage. What a shambles. The lost property desk was surrounded by a group of around thirty people with problems. It transpired that the Easyjet plane from Gatwick hadn't enough luggage room so it was left there. It will be 11am tomorrow before they arrive and maybe 6pm before they are delivered. This meant that instead of leaving the airport at 9.30 we left at 11.30 and after a nightmare ride to our hotel we packed our bikes away, dropped off our bags and went out for our evening meal/ breakfast at 12.02. The bus driver certainly knew his coach and went through the smallest of gaps imaginable but cut his corners and forced cars to move over at every opportunity - I am coming, move away. We went to a restaurant on a back street, not salubrious but adequate and good food with house red, tasting very nice and then forced out at 1.45. Bed then beckoned at 2pm at the Hotel Posta after a shower which drilled holes in my skin. Aargh.
. well since my taxi driver Andy landed at 5.20 having just dropped someone off at Leeds, Bradford Airport. Does that man ever sleep? However, the early start meant that we had a good run to Manchester and we were there in the hour and check in was quiet so I was through with bags dropped by 06.32. Through the inevitable queue though at security, which I got through without being searched, or bleeped at, miraculously. I had downloaded my boarding pass to my phone as an experiment and was something less to scrabble around for. This was ok until I got to Charles de Gaulle, Paris and I had no wifi so the pass for the next leg would not come up on screen. I eventually logged onto a free airport wifi and the problem was solved. I immediately saved the screens as a photograph to ensure this did not happen again. A three hour wait now for the next leg to Rome, so a sandwich in the scruffy airport cafe and a 'Long Black' coffee, which should have been called a short black since it barely touched the sides. The weather is warm and sunny but Rome was forecast cloudy and rain - who needs that, we get enough of that in Clitheroe. As it happened, Clitheroe was sunny with a good forecast for several days. What am I heading into?
My new bike packed up nicely, but without the racking the case, which would not fit in the space available. I should cut it in half lengthwise and fit it in the box in two halves. Something to think about on my return home. How to split it yet keep its strength. Including my cycling shoes the box weighed in at 23kg, which was right on the limit. Perfect. I filled a pannier with clothes and kit, plus my helmet and that came to 5 1/2 kg, which was nicely under the 32 kg total allowed. The second pannier was filled with a few clothes, bar bag, camera, iPad, noise cancelling headphones and a small book adding up to 4 1/2 kg, meaning I will not be loaded down with excess weight on the trip since I am told the hills are vicious. We will see.
The airports are obviously full of people speaking other languages than English and however much I tried I could not understand much of the French spoken, despite my 'O' level taken 100 years ago. So there is little chance with the Italian over the next two weeks.
As always, looking out of the window as we went over the Alps was a joy to behold with the craggy mountains covered in snow and riddled with stony tracks leading nowhere much - unless you are a trekker, or skier, I suppose.
Rome was as forecast, cloud and rain with the temperature at 20 degrees. The plane to Palermo was delayed over half an hour do to someone not getting on the flight and the baggage had to be retrieved. The plane was a bit used and the sound system would not work and the vinyl seats were a bit slippery so that when I sat down my knees slithered forwards against the forward seat posts with my legs akimbo like Wilf the dog waiting for its tummy to be tickled. The short flights are also a bit of a let down on the meal front since the first flight had a brew only and the second one, which was a two hour flight, provided a very small brew and two miniature buns. The last flight was beset with turbulence causing the chap on my right to carry out some impromptu compression testing on the interconnecting arm rest. Needless to say we got neither buns nor brew with the stewards hiding in their bunker for much of the flight. When we were well above the rain clouds it was quite spectacular with all shapes of clouds 11.30glinting in the sun and forming mushrooms, tornados and other rare shapes.
On arrival at Palermo at 7pm in darkness and not getting my bags until 7.30 I decided to wait by the carousel for the rest of the gang to arrive, who were due in at 8.25pm. I had missed my planned bus which went at 7pm. This would then save me a taxi ride to the hotel from the main bus terminus plus the next bus was one hour away. A bus had been commissioned for them so it made sense to wait.
As we flew in I could see the hills on the coast projecting straight out of the ground vertically for 400 metres and now understand what Greg meant when he said the hills were savage. Let's hope we can go around a few rather than over them ( cyclists don't go up hills, they go over them).
Eventually some of the group members arrived in dribs and drabs but the nightmare had only just begone. Several were pieces of luggage missing, mostly the bikes. Others had their bikes but no luggage. What a shambles. The lost property desk was surrounded by a group of around thirty people with problems. It transpired that the Easyjet plane from Gatwick hadn't enough luggage room so it was left there. It will be 11am tomorrow before they arrive and maybe 6pm before they are delivered. This meant that instead of leaving the airport at 9.30 we left at 11.30 and after a nightmare ride to our hotel we packed our bikes away, dropped off our bags and went out for our evening meal/ breakfast at 12.02. The bus driver certainly knew his coach and went through the smallest of gaps imaginable but cut his corners and forced cars to move over at every opportunity - I am coming, move away. We went to a restaurant on a back street, not salubrious but adequate and good food with house red, tasting very nice and then forced out at 1.45. Bed then beckoned at 2pm at the Hotel Posta after a shower which drilled holes in my skin. Aargh.
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