Buying hash Arabba

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Buying hash Arabba

Luke GJ takes you on holiday to the Dolomites with a rag-tag bunch of Orwellians. Here is his day by day diary of his adventures up hill and down dale. Would his Patellar Tendons live to tell the tale? Spoiler Alert: Barely. You can listen to it in your Podcast Client, 1. After a full three hours of sleep my alarm went off. In truth, I was awake long before it. It was I checked WhatsApp to see what the Dolomites Class of were up to. Panic Stations! The taxi driver notified us that he had cancelled, at Today, was the brightest 3AM idea of my life, I put my Drivers License into my hand luggage, in case I was needed to rent a car. I had a bad experience the last time I was in Green, where I was left waiting outside the Terminal at 12AM for an hour, when I arrived back from Poland in October I perched my car atop the sharp stones in the Green Car Park and then cured my carelessness on the meandering bus ride to T1. What I saved in parking fees, I would likely be spending on new tyres. Do they do GPs for cars? The vanguard of our sortie convened at a restaurant after Security. Barry was sleep deprived, Lucy likewise. Helen was pretty mellow. Aisling was stressed about the taxi situation. Dawn was approaching and Ann was getting increasingly chirpy. Our gang made the intrepid trek to the Ryanair gates, to seek our remaining trio in the Forward-Operating-Base at Gate I remarked as much and forecasted that she has set out at too hard a pace. The clean-shaven Darragh was looking fresh-faced. Alan was proud of his efficient packing, he had only two carry-on bags. Pride comes before a fall, would our Alan remain upright this week? I sat beside another Orwellian on the plane, she was going skiing Which, according to SkiMatterhorn. I got a cumulative ninety-minutes of sleep on the plane. I woke just in time as we soared over a cloudless Swiss Alps. This was magical. To see the power of Glacial Erosion. They would make a really cool setting for a James Bond opening action sequence. We landed on time, the music played, no one clapped. After evaluating our transport options, renting two cars was the most ideal option. We headed westbound on the A4 from Bergamo to fair Verona. Aisling was super excited to visit Verona. The Shakespeare Travel Guide failed to mention that tensions between the Capulets and Montagues were escalating again after a shipment of Buffalo Mozzarella went missing. Alan had a bit of banter with the guy over the intercom. I said I would sort this mess out. And after saying so, I had to take on this responsibility. My binge watching of Jordan Peterson lectures on YouTube I has a prior engagement for his sold-out 3Arena appearance in mid-July , his October Olympia appearance is also Sold-Out , have given me a sense of pressure to take on and solve meaningful tasks. Along the A4, Alan requested me to perform my Disk Jockey duties. I whipped out my trusty Aux Cable and opened Spotify to my downloaded music. Surprisingly, Aisling was au fiat with this lyrical genius and even had some knowledge of Tekashi 6ix9ine. After a few seconds of the fourth tune, Captain Alan requested that I play something better. I skipped past Migos and 6ix9ine to Childish Gambino. This helped Alan to concentrate more on his avoidance of the compensation-seeking driving of the natives. After our second food stop, I returned to my esteemed position, to discover that DJing now fell under the remit of the Captain. I started to sulk and plot revenge. From Verona we set a snail-pace north along the A22 as we joined the holidayers. Helen was participating in some very welcome backseat driving, and her phone was rerouting us to side roads that would see us emerge ahead of the traffic. Some of the side roads were parallel to the A22 and we could look to the right and see the carpark. We drove up the Passo Gardinier and got to see some awesome scenery. In the village of Calfosch, the drivers were aggressively pulling out from the parking spaces. Six hours after leaving Bergamo, we arrived in Badia, our base for the week. The Hotel Melodia del Bosco was fantastic. We dropped off our bags and went to the bike shop to pick up our steeds. We had send our measurements, saddle height, setback and reach well in advance and the bikes were well set up. The Basso bikes came with t low gears and the KTM bikes had lovely t. I was on TeamKtm Unfortunately, my bike came with a flexy Selle Italia saddle. The hard noses, where the rails meet, of such saddles are very uncomfortable. We cycled our bikes back to the Hotel. The climb up to the hotel was not exactly fun, and would be less fun after a hard ride. The lock-up was equipped with a full suite of tools, lubes and pumps. It also had a hose for washing dirty bikes. At dinner, the Pinot Grigio took the edge off the hard day. We could relax, we had triumphed in the face of adversity. We were joined by, friend of the club, Conor Moran. Our waitress, for the week, Elizabeth was good craic. We got a route preview from Klaus, to ease our minds. Sleep came easily. Foto del Giorno: Day 0: Saturday August 4th The Ride Leaders, Andreas and Marco, would depart out hotel at They would use the first day to assess us. My alarm sounded at The first day of a cycling holiday takes time to organise everything, especially in hotels where the breakfast can take a long time to consume the required calories. So waking early and avoiding holding everyone else up is a good strategy. The King of Corn Flakes was astride his bike and on the road to Campolongo. I soon discovered that I had not trained for the demands of the event. The hills here were a bit too steep for my liking. The road surfaces through the villages were shockingly bad. It was worse than what Irish Water did to Athlone, and Athlone dropped the soap in prison repeatedly. The less trafficked roads were much smoother. Luckily there was a Ginger Retriever hanging off the back of the group. The climb started softly through the village of Corvara. The final 3. After my fortnight of rest, I took time to get the legs moving. I was at the back and the others were riding hard up the hill. Alan, Helen, Darragh and Conor quickly disappeared. The climb was heavily trafficked with cars and vans. Which is weird on a Sunday morning. I passed Aisling on the climb, she looked to have the same strategy as me, just ride at our own pace. Ann and Fiona were riding together for a while. Until Ann started to get hold and expand a gap. I passed Fiona, who was hyperventilating. I think I advised her to ease up, or at least I meant to. My next quarry was some of the other cycling groups on the road. I passed them in a lul in the traffic. Ann was pressing on and expanding the gap to me. We regrouped at the top. I ensured that I fully crested the hill, in order to get the Strava segment. The descent was super fun. Lots of hairpins. Aisling and Alan zipped down the descent. We refilled our bottles in a village fountain, all the water in this region is drinkable. Ann got a slow puncture on the descent. Marco fixed it for her. The rest of us all rolled to the food stop in the village of Caprile. The village plaza was loosely cobbled. Barry got one of the tiles kicked up into his pedal. No biggie, but such is the life of Barry-Roubaix. After a coffee and a cream cake, Andreas informed us that we were going to tackle a 20km climb. Where would this climb start? Well, just around the corner. This climb featured three sections of switchbacks, with two long straights between them. It has some sweet views, initially of the exposed rock of the Dolomites, and higher up it reveals views of the valley. These are good distractions. Marco followed the faster cyclists, who were pushing on. Andreas chilled at the back. The guides were taking lots of photos of us. Aisling was tapping out a steady rhythm. Fiona and I were a little bit ahead. Barry and Lucy were a few hairpins ahead. Poor Fiona, I talked an unholy amount of shite to the girl. I told her about my other screenplay. The protagonist would be denied the favour of the Gods, and unable to win races without God-given talent to secure prize money to feed his family after a harsh winter. I also described a scene to her in which the protagonist would sell his soul at the Sally Gap cross roads to the Devil. Also poor you, dear reader, for being subject to this. And, most importantly, poor me, this kind of garbage literature keeps me awake at night. Will the outlined story be making its way to a Kindle Single anytime soon? Fiona and I stopped at a water troth to refill our bottles. Aisling and Andreas caught up. Fiona dumped a bottle of water over herself to cool her down. Andreas saw this and his eyes went wide. The four of us continued. Andreas was telling us about the area. This region was super similar to vast areas of the game world. The shape of the mountains and Villages, and the Great War that happened years ago. On this climb, I saw a castle. It was just build on a pillar that sprouted from nowhere. We got to the top of the climb, which was at Altitude, peaking at 2,m. We rendezvoused with the crew. I had a can of coke. We had to start making tracks. There were clouds en-route, that we had to outrun. The weather systems here are pretty wack. We had a little bit of climbing to do before the crest. Our descent was the Passo Valparola. The group were caught behind a camper van on the descent. The van eventually pulled in. Most of our downhill skills were matched. Aisling was very good at descending and easily the fastest of the Women. Ann on the other hand was descending like a granny. Her Basso bike was too long in the Reach for her. We got back to the Hotel. We got some post-ride food and beer. Helen got a Pancake. She offered it around, and I ate it. I was tasty especially with the Raspberry and Blueberry jams that were on the plate. I told the group about my childhood memories of Shrove Tuesdays and Rocky Movies. I chilled in my room and unpacked properly for the rest of the evening until dinner at All of the banter, and there was banter, at dinner every evening is unprintable. Even the breakfast banter was risquee. I put my phone on Aeroplane Mode at and went to sleep. Darragh messaged me that night to say that Rocky 3 was on channel 3 on the TV. Pancakes and Rocky movies, the stuff that dreams are made of. Foto del Giorno: Day 1: Sunday August 5th Darragh choose not to ride today. Conor was going to ride his own route today. A short one, as he was leaving town that next morning and wanted to be ready. Conor and Darragh waited patiently for our arrival back at the hotel. Ann Horan had a new smaller bike. She switched over from the Basso bike. During our pre-ride banter, Barry commended The King of Corn Flakes on my pointing out of obstacles on the descents. I told Barry that I could do this only because of my core strength and that I had half a six-pack of abs, not Weissbier. I had to point out the obstacles on the descent now as Barry was the bogey-on-my-six. The new bike was doing the trick for Ann. She was no-longer descending like a Granny, and was now going downhill like a slightly younger Granny. We regrouped at the bottom of the descent. After the road flattened out, we were riding beside this totally awesome setting. There was a really cool stream beside the road and other other side there was a steep bank with trees. This wonderful morning was ruined when we took a left turn to climb this steep bank. Maybe they did, and I was daydreaming about how similar this area looked to the map in Farming Simulator The local Dairy Farmers had dropped their milk containers to the main road to be emptied by the Milk Lorry. This was a massive step back in time for me. My Dad used to do this until I was about 6 years old 23 years ago, christ above. Then there was change in the Irish Milking Scene and we got a new milking parlor and my soccer coach, Mike, used to collect our milk directly from the parlor. Then a few years later the wanted bigger lorries and newer parlors and for us to remove some of our front garden. We got out of the Dairy Industry after that. The climbing groups quickly formed. Ann was embarrassed to find herself riding with the slow kids in school. We kept Lucy in view as we pulled away from Aisling and Fiona. The road surface up here was terrible. There was a nice fountain we refilled our bottles. The mystery of the missing Hard 2km was uncovered, it was the first 2km the climb. There was a nice 2km of downhill, where there was a cafe. We decided not to stop there, as it the next climb was starting in 50 meters, and it would take awhile to get the legs moving again. We started the climb and everyone was strung out. Ann was no longer able to keep up with the LukeExpress. I was keeping Lucy in view. I looked back to survey the stragglers and when I looked forward again Lucy had vanished. There was a junction in the road, our road had a downhill and the other road was uphill. So I went up the hill, it was a short climb to the next hairpin. I supposed that Lucy had gone up hill and around the hairpin. Ann and Fiona followed me. We went uphill for 1. It was Aisling asking where we were. Marco had noticed that there were a few missing ducklings between Lucy and Aisling. We had gone the wrong way. Ann was up to her old tricks and decided to get another puncture. Marco was fixing it for her. I was standing around like a spare prick and asked if I could ride onwards. We were in the country of Over-Reactions. When in Rome, and all that. Upon seeing that her puncture was fixed, she lightened up and saw the funny side of our misadventure. The next part of the climb was tough. I got a gap on the other three by virtue of being heavier on the rest of the descent. Ann reeled me in. She was getting better, after initially struggling. There was a underpass on the bridge and the gradient levelled out before the cafe. The gang were already finished their coffees, Strudels and had visited the bathroom. We were greeted with a cheer. Ann sprinted over to them and started to bash my good name. She had the phone in her hand, ready to e-mail Cartographers Ireland requesting to have me de-Mapped, when I re-dropped the Logic-Bomb about her choosing to follow me. I had a Mars bar, a Strudel and an Americano. The barista was very confused when I asked him to put cold water into the coffee, so I could drink it quickly. Ann had spilled the Espresso that she got for Marco. Carrying coffees in cleats is a recipe for Yellow cones. Good, now she was more mad at Isaac Newton for inventing Gravity than she was at me. In truth, yaboi Newton was the main villain of the week. We were rewarded with a very long 20km descent, where we dropped 1,m in elevation. This descent had a few rolling hills punctuating it. We were on Farm Tracks with Corn Fields all around. The King of Corn Flakes surveyed his domain. It took her about 30 seconds to understand the joke, but she chuckled. Were my faux-paus forgiven? The food stops were nicely spaced on this 90km ride. There was one at 30km and the second was approaching at 60km. I was riding to the left of Barry, I saw Helen and Alan pull into the food stop. I out-sprinted Barry to the food stop. It brought us back to halfway up the first climb of the day, Via Plicia. We were climbing straight away after the Pasta. I was riding beside Lucy now. We had a nice mature conversation about my adventures since I moved to Walkinstown. The gang regrouped at the water troth. We ended up cycling on a Bike Path, that was beside the main road. It started to rain. Due to the localised nature of the rain, it only rained on the Bike Path and not on the Main Road. This brought us to San Martino, the final 9km to Badia was a slog. Andreas was at the front setting a decent pace, I was third wheel. I was suffering because my bladder was full. There was a lot of traffic and I needed to bide my time to pull up beside Andreas to inform him, and others of my intentions. Marco paced us back to the leaders. We rode the final climb back to the Hotel at our own pace. The final kick up to the hotel was torture, Passo Melodia del Bosco. We degreased, washed and re-lubed the bikes with the provided equipment. Everything was sorted. I walked around the front of the Hotel to discover that my Super-Domestique, Darragh, had got me a tall Weissbier. I had the cyclist Pasta, a little bit of banter with Conor, Darragh and Alan. I had a shower and used up the last of my Aftersun. The dinner discussions are unprintable. We bid goodbye to Conor. Conor walked home to his hotel in the rain. He messaged us a few days later to let us know that he was home safe. Foto del Giorno: Day 2: Monday August 6th I could feel that my Patellar was a little niggly towards the end of the ride yesterday. I had run out a few days ago so the inflammation was creeping back. Today was going to be a hard one. It was going to be the second loop on the Maratona dles Dolomites. Availing of this strategic option, we saved an hour of riding and m of climbing. Ann and Fiona took the day off. They explored up the mountains. We arrived at the top of the Campolongo and awaited the arrival of the Vanguard. Barry bossed the climb and was well ahead of the pack. He was about 25 years old and had a mustache beyond his years. Alan, Helen and Andreas arrived, followed by Lucy and Marco. We had a bit of banter. We started the decent and a minor climb. The climb was a shock to the legs, heart and lungs. For the first time on the trip, we were riding uphill at a reasonable pace as a group. We passed a group on the climb and then we were passed by a faster group. The differences in paces were massive and the groups were spread out just as fast as they came together. We pulled into a nice hillside cafe. There were two men there from County Down. They were also staying in our Hotel. I wanted to pet an Italian dog. After getting permission from the owner, I slowly started reaching out - the dog sniffed my hand and let me pet it. Success, goal achieved. I could now move on with my life. After a coke and a slice of cake, we were back on the road. The group climbed a bit, and then descended a bit and then turned left. This is a brutal steep climb, just blank it out mentally, set aside an good long hour for it. The Pros can climb it in 33mins. It got stiff very quickly. Helen, Lucy, Darragh and I were riding together for a little while. Aisling was ahead, as she had a tactical quick coffee stop. Normally racing through the feed zone is frowned upon, but it was her turn to pay for the bottle of wine that night, so we reserved judgement. She soon got bored of waiting around and we were left looking at a dust cloud. Soon after, some foreign lad passed us. Darragh was keen to make a new friend and set off in pursuit. I tried to talk shite to Lucy, but we were both panting from the exertion. We looked up the hairpins and could see Darragh chatting to his new BFF. We looked down the hairpins. We could see a man with a child in his bike trailer. He was gaining on us rapidly. The inevitable happened. He overtook us. We talked to him for a little bit. The baby was three months old and was named Chloe. He had to pull in and wait for his wife to catch up. Truly a baptism of fire, with Passo Giau as your re-introduction to the road. I was getting stronger than Lucy, her cumulative efforts were catching up to her. Just like Simon Yates in the Giro, there was a mushroom cloud. I pushed on. Lone Ranger Luke was on the hunt. Aisling was next up the road. I could see her on the hairpins above. The catch was made. My next quarry, Darragh was too far up the road to catch. My eyes enjoyed the scenery, my legs were not. I broke mentally after a pack of Electric Mountain Bikers whirred passed me. I suddenly realised that I was sweating profusely. I had activated, hitherto unknown, sweat glands on my C8 and T9 Vertebrae. Suffice to say, I was a Sweaty Betty. I had gone too hard since unceremoniously dispatching Lucy. Roles were being reversed, tables turned and Dr. Lucy had written me a prescription for a dose of my own medicine. I looked back on a straight. My eyes saw Lucy, my ears heard Chariots of Fire. I held her off until 2km from the top, where I had a meltdown. Lucy and my will to live were disappearing at equal rates. At the top, we had a bowl of pasta in the restaurant. They also came into the restaurant. The owners and staff were pretty cool, they whipped out a crib and some blankets for the baby. Everyone was watching on, to see would Chloe like the crib. Unfortunately the Strava Segment finish line was a few meters after the restaurant, so my time was two hours and forty minutes. We put on jackets for the descent. Darragh gained the style points that I lost. The stunning, hard won, views from the top soon disappeared as we descended. There were some tight technical double hairpins. We got to the bottom. I accidentally photobombed a Mountain Biker as he was taking a photo of a Porche. I exploded with heat when we hit a minor climb. My snazzy Fred jacket was not ventilated. I stopped to take it off and everyone passed me out. They all pulled in at a junction. We took another right. This is a nice climb. Coming after the Giau makes it much harder than it actually is. It has amazing views of the Dolomites. I took out my phone and put some tunes on loud speaker to keep me company on the climb. We got a light shower of rain on this climb. I pulled over to put my phone inside my Lezine wallet. This is where Lucy caught up to me. We rode together for a little while. These shallow grade climbs are my favourite. So I had soon dropped Lucy and the other two Italian riders that were in our vicinity. My knee was starting to flare up. More worryingly it was sending shooting pains up my IT Band. There was nothing I could do about it. So I just sucked it up and carried on. Screaming internally, wondering what my future held. It was an existential crisis on a similar level to what Patrick Dempsey experiences when looking at Sean Penn. At the top, Alan Hickey was waiting for me. We descended together. Sadly, we were caught behind an English reg car who was going very slow. We teamed up with Barry and Lucy for the run back to the village. I got back to the hotel, took a shower and went down to get Cyclist Pasta. Some of our group were there. The two men from County Down was also chilling. I announced my intention to go to the Spar to get Sunscreen and Aftersun. Helen joined my quest. Lucy tagged along for the craic. We met Fiona on the hill. The four of us grinded out the walking up the hill. Luckily I had a belly full of pasta and Weissbier to help me out. Fiona told me that the Spar had a gift shop section too. I walked around inside for a few minutes and saw the fridge magnet I wanted. It was a cow. It was guarded by the woman at the checkout. I picked up my goods and asked the checkout lady for the magnet. The cow was missing a horn. I copped some guff for being so vain, but I was trying to live my best life. A few meters down the road, I saw a fiver on the ground. I picked it up discreetly, just like my mother showed me on the mean streets of Tuam. We got back to the hotel. I put a tremendous amount of work into my knees and IT Band, but I was fighting a losing battle. At dinner, I had potatoes for my main course, with a side of Bronzer banter. Foto del Giorno: Day 3: Tuesday August 7th Today was the first loop of the Maratona. Seeing that tomorrow was very hard, Darragh and Alan took the day off. They decided to drive and take the chairlift to the War Museum. How did that work out for them? It was all well and good, until they decided to hike back down from the peak. Four hours later, looking worse than Robin Williams in Jumanji, they arrived. This climb is a little steep in the beginning and again for a kilometer before the top. A short ride to the next village, Corvara, and we were climbing. Barry and Marco took off first. Helen was in second. Lucy, Ann, Fiona and I tapped out a very slow rhythm. Aisling was hanging out with Andreas at the back. Lucy tried to get a bit of a gap on us, but my team of domestiques reeled her back in. The pace was way too slow for this nice climb. I thought there was only 5km to the top, there was actually 6. I took off and dropped the girls. They were probably talking about Tea Parties in my absence. I saw Helen a long way ahead, she was my next marker. There were construction traffic lights on the climb, they were red with a queue of cars waiting. I was going so hard that at the traffic lights my head just started rolling around on my neck as I recovered by hyperventilating slightly less. The lights turned green. I observed my prey restarting with all the blissful unawareness of a Gazelle. She was walking on the tracks, not looking back at the oncoming LukeExpress. Internally, yes we were racing. Too long had she reigned unchecked and it was my job to take her down a peg or two;. Over the top, she clapped my on the back. We waited with Barry and Marco for the rest of the slow-coaches. A bit of a hard start, but the gradient is fairly constant on the way up. You can see the top from a very long way off. I had blown my lights on the Gardena. Nothing batner related happened on this climb, as I was riding by myself. I was just tipping along and enjoying the views. After exercising my internal demons on the Gardena, I felt free. And she repeated the story a few minutes later when I arrived. At the top, we could see The Marmolada, a large glacier. We took some Selfies with it. We had food. We were lucky that we got the two men serving us in the restaurant. Those who arrived later got a scowling auld biddy. I opted to just bring arm warmers for the descending. The Fred Jacket was left in the hotel. It was getting nippy at the top. Arm Warmers were donned and descents were downed. We saw Abdul, from yesterday, on the descent. It starts out kinda forested, but after some hairpins it gets above the tree line to altitude and beyond for more hairpins. It peaks at m. I noticed that I was close to Barry, who was riding at a conservative pace. Barry had exclusively been taking selfies on climbs with Lucy. I took the selfie with Barry, and I felt special. We talked about stuff. We had some Barry Banter, Patent Pending. Then he out-sprinted me at the top of the climb. We took a bunch of photos at the top as it was really pretty. A magnificently long windy decent later and we were headed for home. I ripped it down this descent. Aisling was beating me on a few descents this week, but there was a long straight and I sat on the top tube. I shot by both her and Helen. My progress was halted by a slow driver. It was an English reg car. As a cyclist on the continent, that yellow reg place set off alarm bells. We descended this side on the first day. The ascent was stiff. I was no longer the bright-eyed and bushy-tailed Helen-dropping machine that I was at the top of the day. I was chugging at the back. Myself and Aisling grinded up the Campolongo. This climb was zero fun. The descent of the Camplongo, back to Badia, was a very different story. My post-Boulder Biscuit Binge Bulk was working in my favour now. I ripped past everyone except Marco. Darragh and Alan were waiting our return. Their trials and tribulations had made me not want to hike, ever. I got back to my room and started work on my Patellar tendon. I knew it was not in good shape and that my cycling was done. He responded with emojis. Barry, who made me feel special by taking a selfie, crushed me. He uploaded lots of selfies with all kinds of people. I forgot about this when Elizabeth, our waitress, showed us a really cool rainbow. I took some photos and ate the most wonderful jacketed baby potatoes with herbs. It was going to be super tough. Foto del Giorno: Day 4: Wednesday August 8th Sore Paw was contagious. Alan had DOMS in his thighs from the four hour walk down hill the previous day. Darragh was REKT, sore hips and knees. I got up early to have Breakfast Banter with my fellow holidaymakers. Helen, Fiona and Aisling were talking about how men and women differ with temperment on long endeavours. They reckoned that Men would go out hard on the climbs and get it over with quickly, where as Women would be more patient. Marco, the guide, was dispatched to lead a Mountain Biker Group. Our group had a new guide, Andrea. He would drive the Van of Shame to and from a point of the route. The crew were going on a hard ride, nearly 3,m of climbing. It was the feared Treschneis, which passes by a rock formation that looks like three chimneys. I had a second brekkie with Darragh. We went up a pair of chairlifts to a church on top of a hill. I needed a minute to calm down and deal with the vertigo. The church at the top was cool. There was a violinist playing in there. We had a coffee and took some photos. The views were fantastic. As we were about to depart, there was a concert taking place outside the church. The violinist was joined by a Cello. Darragh and I were in, the would be, Mosh Pit. There were a few Mountain Bikers bringing their bikes up on the Chairlifts. They were going to ride down the hill. We took the chairlift down. We played a game witht the other chairlift people, seeing who would wave back. We walked around looking for a Pizzeria. We settled on a place that we would come back to when we were hungry. We walked down to the hotel and back up the hill to the Pizzeria. We were seated and left for ten minutes. The waiter came back and saw that we were intent on ordering Pizzas. I was so Hangry, but I kept a lid on my temper. We trudged to the bottom of the hill. I remembered that there was a Pizzeria in the village. My choices are limited as real men shoot selfies and not animals. Sorry for the spoilers for a movie a quarter of a century old. I ordered the Cherry Tomato Pizza and requested the additional topping of Chips. It arrived, this creation was to the Pizza industry what the GHD was to the hair straightener industry. I decided early that I would not cut the chips when cutting the pizza. I could eat it flat, or with a fork or like a Calzone. A triple threat. It was my second pizza since Helen invited me on the trip and it was amazing! I went back to my room with a Greg Lemond sized belly on me. I took a few deep breaths before making the phone call to sort out our toll. I built up this conversation in my head, they would intentionally speak in Italian, so we would have to pay full price. Much to my surprize, the lady spoke perfect English and quickly sorted out our query. I felt really good inside, I was fulfilling my promise to sort out the toll. I went down to the Post Office to pay the toll. It was closed and I got caught in a thunderstorm, bad times. The fact that I had not yet completed my task of paying the toll, would eat away at me inside. My thoughts went to the guys who were cycling. Hopefully they would remain dry and safe. Darragh and I agreed to meet in the Wellness Area of the Hotel. We wanted to try out the Whirlpool Baths. They were essentially mini-jacuzzis. It was amazing. Afterwards Darragh left. I used the Steam Room and Sauna. I was about to leave when Ann and Aisling came in. A couple of days ago, Ann hypothesised at dinner, that she wanted to study the effects of two people in the Whirlpool. She started a whirlpool bath for herself, and I wanted another go. So I offered to be her lab partner. It was a bit of fun, we studied various aspects of the sciences. The recently re-coronated King of Pizzas had displaced too much water and the jets were splashing water everywhere. The results of our experiment were were a hot topic among the other scientists at the dinner table. Darragh pointed out that I spent nearly three hours in the Wellness Area. I had my alarm set for CEST. Getting an entry to the B-Race is tough and you need to move fast. Aisling was making friends with the German people beside us, when I had to rudely interrupt them, to make a break to the WiFi Coverage of the lobby. I had a few Gin and Tonics and chit-chatted with Fiona. She was thinking four conversation moves ahead and actively steered the conversation away from anything that I could write a screenplay about. The others talked about the tough day of cycling, but I had as much interest as Richie Porte has in discussing Tour de France stage ten he keeps crashing out on stage nine. Foto del Giorno: Day 5: Thursday August 8th There was a high chance of rain this morning. The cycling plan was for a short 50km spin. My patellar tendon was still a little niggly. Andreas was leading spin. Only four people were brave enough to face the rain; Helen, Alan, Aisling and Fiona. Helen and Aisling had ridden every day. Helen rode all the kilometers, whereas Aisling took a few strategic trips in the Van. Klaus, the hotel owner, was due to ride with the group. Alas, upon seeing that the group was only four, he decided against it. It was a bit sad, as he had really warmed up to the group. Ann was intent on going to a hike. She asked me. Klaus told us that there was a lake 30 minutes away. Expecting rain, I brought my Hydra jacket. I tied it up into a Messenger Bag and put a bottle of water in the pocket. Expecting that it was just a little walk up to a lake, I equipped my Converse low tops. Ann was decked out in a pair of platform shoes and an orange school bag. It was extremely humid and sweat was running off us within five minutes. We had good banter and talked about some serious life issues. It was good. Ann is alright I told her that she needed a Goals picture. The pose is just a girl sitting on a rock. We took a classic Goals picture, the model was perched upon a rock and there was a village in the background. I kept saying to Ann, that I could not hear running water. Ann was pressing onwards regardless. She got really excited when she saw that there was a steep narrow part of the trail, with a rope to hold onto. I was markedly less enthusiastic. We navigated this steep part of the trail and it briefly flattened out. The next part was a near vertical incline where I had to use my hands to get up. I was only thinking about how I was going to get down from here. Then I looked down and freaked out. We were very high. I also freaked out when I looked up at how high the cliffs above us were. I literally froze solid and started whimpering. I could only look at the rock in front of my face. Ann looked back at this shuddering mess. I had to pull myself together. I needed to man up as I needed to pay the toll. I edged off the incline that I was glued to. I needed to assert my dominance over this mountain. I held the rope on the way down with a white knuckle grip. The rain was so local that it missed us, but it rained on the lower part of the trail. My Converse were not getting any purchase on the loose stony descent. Ann was skipping down the hill. I was descending like Bambi on Ice. Whilst waiting for me, Ann stopped to talk to the other hikers. They knew nothing about any lake. They looked at me, like I would look at a Fred. I explained that it was my first hike, hence the Converse. Legends will be told of the greatest hiker to scale the mountain in a pair of Cons and a rain jacket-turn Messenger Bag. My knees were getting extremely tired and sore from this downhill craic. I had visions of being crippled with DOMS all day tomorrow. Crippled in a tightly packed car. Crippled standing in a Ryanair self-check-in area with the computer illiterate. Crippled standing in security with people causing delays. Requesting a mobility scooter on the inevitably long walk to the Ryanair gates. Crippled on the bus from the gate to the plane. In too much pain to sleep on the plane. Who knew that saying that a lake was 30 mins away could cause such damage in another part of the world? We reached the bottom of the hill. After the three hour hike, I had a quick shower. I was cutting it close to get to the post office. I made it just in time to fill in a form. I am the Bobby Fisher of filling in forms, I intentionally wrote slow, so the Post Office worker would get bored and fill it in for me. I learned this technique when my mother tried to make me help her with the dinner. Nothing like botching peeling a few potatoes to have you back playing Driver 2 on PS One quicksmart. There was only one thing that could cap this achievement of paying a toll fine. Pizza with Chips! Alan and Aisling arrived back from their cycle. They, Lucy and Barry joined us at the Pizzeria. Alan trusted my judgement and had chips on his pizza. His life was now divided in two parts, pre-chips on pizza and his new glorious future full of possibilities. At dinner, one of the options was little octopi. It was disgusting. They had the heads still on and everyone was jiggling them. We said our goodbyes to the staff, in particular our waitress, Elizabeth. Foto del Giorno: Day 6: Friday August 9th My eyes shot open at I had a cramp in my stomach. I curled into a ball to alleviate it. This only exacerbated my condition. I leaped up and skipped into the bathroom. I was very scared. I had a long six hours in the car ahead. I went back to sleep, but I was back in the bathroom at and During my visit, Helen knocked at the door and tried to ring my phone, she thought I was still asleep, so she asked the reception to call my room phone. Little did Helen know, I was very much awake. At breakfast, I explained my bad stomach situation to my gathered audience. Barry was driving Lucy, Darragh and Fiona back to the Airport. They left at Our car was going to leave at I took my last bathroom visit at No sooner had I sat in the car, but I had the urge again. I spent most of the first hour just closing my eyes and clenching my butt cheeks. It was going to be a long drive to the airport! The drive was long and the other drivers were scary. Helen was reading her book, Aisling was having naps and Ann was using my Travel Pillow to sleep for the almost the entire journey. Team Barry decided to go to old town Bergamo to eat. Team Alan, aided by Navigational Officer Potter followed in pursuit. We topped up the car with gas and went to eat. The square was really nice. A Shiba Inu the dog that made the Doge meme appeared. He was super hot, so he jumped up on the fountain and put his paws in. I jogged over and took a photo of him. This was the meme of my early-twenties. My stomach had dried up, or was empty. I had my first Italian Spaghetti and Gelato. The Airport was busy. We passed the security queue, it was looooong. The Ryanair queue moved at a decent pace. I helped Helen with the process as she was struggling with the scanner. I got through the otherside and met with Darragh, who had left the restaurant in the square about 30 minutes before us. Lucy, Barry and Fiona were also coming through security. I picked up my customary bottle of Brandy for my mother, and a pack of sweets for the guys in the office. The flight back home was nice, I slept for some of it. I walked my dogs, went to the christening and drove back to Dublin. Foto del Giorno: Day 7: Saturday August 10th It somehow took me a month to write this Illiad. I had a really nice time on this trip. View from the car on Passo Gardinier We drove up the Passo Gardinier and got to see some awesome scenery. The group atop the Campolongo. Passo Campolongo, 5. Lucy climbing the Campolongo. Passo Falzarego, 20km at 5. The Castle that looked like the Zelda Tower. The faster riders chilling on the Falzarego. The nice stream. Via Plicia, 3. Regrouping on the Plicia. Furcia, 5. We had pasta, Coke and refilled the bottles. Put your hands up if you ate the Onion Rings from Borja and lived to tell the tale to Lucy. Helen, Alan and Andreas cresting the Campolongo. The view from the cafe. The view from the side of Giau we climbed. Aisling descending Giau. Passo Gardena, 8. Following Fiona on the lower slopes of the Gardinier. Too long had she reigned unchecked and it was my job to take her down a peg or two; Over the top, she clapped my on the back. The descent was cold and technical. Passo Stella, 5. The Marmolada as seen from Passo Stella. Passo Pordoi, 6. The group upon the Pordoi. We basically lived on the Campolongo. Those who conquered Treschnies. The view from the Church on the hill. My first Pizza in over a month. The Rain Storm that I got trapped in. Those that braved the possible Rain. Ann's Goals Picture. We paid Klaus and I sipped down a few Gin and Tonics. Our last supper. Settled Stomach, Awaiting Spagbol. Bergamo old town. What's coming up?

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