Massey Makes the Haj

Promptly at 9.45 I woke up, stirred by Og's gentle remonstrations "Massey, wake up, it's 9.45!!" He was in shock from the same discovery.

We had a plan for the day. There's nothing at Mandello other than the sacred shrine of the Guzzisti, and the museum does not open until 3.00. So we'll find an internet cafe and update the blog. This, dear reader, you know did not work. From the hotel we had directions, a long walk when you ache all over, only to find that the internet cafe was now the Irish pub...

Og found a place to download his now full camera memory card to CD, an act of great faith, given that the woman in the place inspired no confidence at all.

At 2.00 we gave up searching for an internet cafe and went over to Mandello. Og was right; there's not much there apart from The Factory. Tourist season is officially over, so most of the cafes are just shut, and the place has an air of closed-ness about it.

Initially the guard at the factory gate wanted to move us on, but when we explained that we just wanted a photo of our bikes at the factory he softened. Then he shut the gate so that we had the red gate with the Guzzi logo in the background as well! There was no way we'd get in before the museum opening time. I asked if we could see the wind tunnel, a pantomime of explanation to the non-English speaking guard, but the answer was clear.

We pootled around to Agostini's, the Guzzi agent in Mandello. Closed for lunch. Most of Italy closes 12.30 - 2.30 and goes home for lunch. Drives the rest of the EU mad, but what can you do?

At 2.45 we're back at The Factory and it's starting to rain. We gather with the few other visitors and wait. I am very excited. Whilst the great bulk of this tour has been a new idea, for many years I had whimsically fancied riding a Guzzi to the factory, a whimsy now realised.

Grinning enormously on the inside, we followed the museum man down the central laneway and up into the museum. This has, according to Og, radically improved since his last visit (smarty-pants) ten years ago.

Where it was once a single long hall jammed with bikes crammed so close as to be difficult to see, it's now spread through double the area. Up one floor we start in the middle of the lower level, although this is not apparent at the time. Crest the stairs and before us is No1, as last used, in a glass case. Behind it the hall has ramps sloping up on either side, with early bikes in chronological sequence mounted at angles which means really good vision of each bike. Most are restored, but many are not, which I like. Our guide runs a commentary on each bike. Unfortunately (and typically) it is in Italian only. Great for the Italian couple, but not much use for the other ten or dozen of us.

Up the stairs to the next floor, which is essentially post-war, a hall twice the length of the first, with the bikes closer packed. Again, sequencing is loosely chronologic.

Downstairs at the end into another room. This has a raised central platform about 600mm high with a few notable bikes, including a V8, at ideal peering height. An assortment of engines are suspended from the ceiling at perfect peering level.

Round the curtain at the end and we're back at the start. Another lap, check out a few things more thoroughly and then exit via the gift shop. Italy is starting to get the marketing act together. There is still some way to go. A couple of T shirts later we're out into the poring rain. Our waterproofs are, naturally, in the hotel.

Around to Agostinis, now open, for a look. Og buys a new mirror, but they're out of footboard rubbers for Calis. The quest for an internet cafe resumes.

Suffice to say that this quest also failed, but not for want of trying. Four times we asked directions and were generally directed to the same area. but could not find an internet cafe. We gave up, and headed out of town to where we'd seen an internet cafe on the way to Mandello. We'd looked for it on the way back, but hadn't seen it. Easily found going the other way, parking was difficult, even for a couple of bikes. Despite a big sign on the wall proclaiming it, this too was a dud. Motioning to a computer game console thingy, the barrista said "that thing there, but is broken"

So we continue the search another day.