Gran Sasso

Gran sasso? No, I'd never heard of it either.

Apparently "sasso" is Italian for "very big rock", so a grand one is even bigger. We're staying with Cate and Marco, and they've invited us to a family lunch in Grand Sasso. This involves all of Marco's family, so there's no room in the car and we will have to ride. Marco assures us that it is a good place for motorcycles. So we set the GPS for Santa Stefano di Sessanio and charge off.

Italian road signage can be tricky. Usually you only get one sign, buried amongst a lot of others, compounded by the need to abbreviate long and complex names. So we're looking for "Santa Stefano di Sessanio", but it is signed as "S Stefano S". GPS saves us again.

Now we learn that Marco was right, that the Grand Sasso is actually the dividing range that runs down the spine of Italy, and that it offers stunning riding only 120km from Rome. The range is so high that it is well above the snow line, and since it is all rock with a minimum of dirt, the overall effect is not unlike Nordkapp; a spectacular moonscape, with ribbons of narrow bitumen across it. Through Calascio, a quick visit to Rocka Calascio, the castle ruin on the mountain top, left through Castel del Monte and up onto the plateau.

In the middle of this, really the middle of nowhere, we came across what we thought was a bustling cafe, so we stopped. 4.30, Saturday afternoon and there must have been forty people inside, drinking not coffee but local grappa. The place is fundamentally a macelleria, selling meat, local cheeses, and local hooch. People obviously come for miles, simply because there isn't another building, let alone a house, within 10 or 15 miles of it.




Starved of the essential caffiene hit, we soldiered on through the twisties into the next cafe, at "ferro cement" (sic). There were a few other riders there, including a group from Pescare, all on BMWs. Their first question to me was "What has broken down?" Truthfully, I could only admit to a fork seal, and luckily they didn't ask about Og's bike.....

In order to take control, we gave them a good serve on their lack of patriotism in riding German product, the dearth of the passionate Italians of legend, the wonderment of Guzzi provenance, etc. They took this well enough to insist on a group photo at the end.

From there we're back on the motorway to Rome. It's a toll road, €7.60 each, but it's also a 95-100MPH blast. You get a ticket as you enter, which you present as you exit...which means that they also monitor elapsed times. Fortunately there's a servo just before the exit booths, and a 20 minute queue that remove any fine risk from our trip.

We've only just touched on Grand Sasso. By the look of the detailed road maps there is probably a good week's worth just within short commute of Rome. Makes a note for next time. (Photos coming, I forgot the CDs of the pictures in the hotel room, from Og)