The next day was a day of rest, laundry and watching the final day of Tirreno-Adriatic as well as Paris-Nice on tv. Winners of each were as expected – the two Slovenians, Pogacar and Roglic.
Pogacar won TA in rather convincing fashion, but Roglic needed a good effort from Van Aert to rein in one of the Yatesies on the final climb of PN.
Packing up again on Monday morning didn’t take long as we hadn’t completely emptied the campervan the other night. Saying goodbye to Papiano once again we left under beautiful sunshine and a clear blue sky.
Without being in any super-great hurry we ended up continuing on all the way to Cavour. As we got further and further north the sunshine disappeared behind the clouds and the rain started, but we made it to the fruit farm ok.
As usual the dogs were in the courtyard to great us – mama Maya and her little one Spreet (he’s at least five now but still smaller than his mama, and she’s tiny) as well as the young lab that they got a few years ago when the old lab died.
It rained most of the night but by the time we got up it had stopped. After a nice shower and some breakfast we saw the older fellow (father, we think) approaching. His english is much worse than my Italian, and I managed to convey that we were just finishing eating, then would get some water and be ready to leave in about an hour. That seemed ok as he said he’d be in the courtyard and we could find him when ready so he could open the gates for us.
The farm must be doing ok as there’s a shiny new tractor in one of the outbuildings. In addition to producing the fruit they also make it into jams, etc, have occasional lunches and dinners, and sometimes run a pre-school. Accepting campers isn’t a huge part of their business, but we’ve enjoyed staying there several times now.
The first time for me was five years ago when I spent six or seven days there upon my return from Croatia and Bosnia-Herzegovina. Colin came and picked me up and we went to Mt. Ventoux for the dedication of the Tom Simpson memorial. Colin had know Tommy years ago in his riding days so it was quite special.
The drive to our next destination didn’t take too long as it’s only a bit north of Torino. Very shortly after leaving the motorway we saw a pink arrow and it was easy going following the route from there to the small town of San Martino Canavese that we’d chosen to watch the race from the next afternoon.
We had a nice chicken and rice lunch and spent the rest of the day reading. Relocating just a bit for the night we found a large flat area across from the cemetery – far enough off the main road that the traffic noise was much less.
I took a walk around the cemetery the next morning, and was just pondering the fact that many of the folks residing there had lived to nice old ages…
…other than the ones named at the two war memorials…
…when I saw a teddy-bear. The baby only lived a couple of months, and the plaque was very touching, being from ‘Mamma and Papa’.
The Alps loom in the distance, still of course, covered in snow.
Mid-morning we went for a walk through the town looking for a cafe – there’s another war memorial next to the steps going up.
We didn’t find a cafe, but did come across barking dogs behind every second fence.
Having some time before the race arrives we took a short drive to the next decent sized town on the route, managing this time to find a nice cafe that served delicious Segafredo coffee – totally worth the search.
Back at San Martino we parked in an area right on the race route, and settled in to wait. A police car pulled up to warn us that the road was going to be closed soon but we assured him it was ok – that’s what we’re parked here for.