I awoke around 0600hrs. It was time to head home, but first breakfast. Alright, not a particularly healthy breakfast (cake, croissant, Coco Pops, ham and cheese rolls, a sugary fruit juice and a cappuccino) but I was accustomed to such fayre and was ready to head downstairs at just gone 0700hrs. I had set myself one challenge: to see if it was possible to get into the bathroom without activating the fan. I figured I would need to be on the floor, on my stomach, crawling along the ground like a commando, but it might be possible and, of course, I would need video evidence. I lay on the floor with a view to setting up my iphone video camera. The iphone needed to be placed against the wall and then I would proceed to crawl into the bathroom and hopefully the fan would remain silent. Well, the whole thing was a waste of time from the get go. As soon as I placed my iphone against the wall the fan activated itself, meaning that there's no way I would get in their without being 'noticed'. I gave up, there was no point. Was there ever any point?
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| Waiting for my cab outside the Villa Dragoni, Buttrio |
A few more guests had arrived at the Villa Dragoni as there were now five cars parked outside and I heard people last night walking around on the wooden floors, coming up the stairs, going to their rooms. In fact, this morning I saw somebody leaving their room so I'm guessing it's almost a full house. There might be a function going on. One of the people I met at the conference told me she was married at the Villa Dragoni and perhaps things were being set up for the weekend. Today is Saturday and I should have been cycling to Oxted for a cup of coffee and a chill-out, but I can't because I'm still in Italy and I have a cab, a train, a bus and a plane to catch (and possibly another cab when I get the other end). But first, the cab from the Villa Dragoni to Udine railway station and a train to Venezia (that's Venice). I kept nodding off on the train but eventually alighted at Venezia Mestre just before noon. The area outside of the railway station left a lot to be desired. There were undesirables floating around, put it that way and the back streets were littered with graffiti and Chinese restaurants. I'd say this was the Chinese quarter, but that would far too grand a description.
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| Breakfast on my last morning... |
I had two hours to fill before I needed to be at Marco Polo airport and the only real option was to find a cafe and sit there reading and eating. While it had been suggested that I check out Venice and the canals, once I'm locked in to 'getting home mode' anything else is added hassle; all that would happen is I'd miss my flight. So I pushed my luggage around the mildly dodgy streets around Venezia Mestre railway station looking for somewhere to eat. I settled upon the Bologna Hotel and sat in an empty restaurant until somebody presented me with a menu: spaghetti bolognese and a green salad plus a fizzy mineral water and then, when finished and paid up, I headed towards the bus station where I boarded a bus to the airport. It was a short journey and soon I found myself passing through security and passport control and hanging around awaiting departure. I was flying easyJet to Gatwick (far better than London Heathrow and nearer to home). The flight was good and I managed to finish
American Pastoral before we landed. I was in seat 1a, right at the front of the plane and plenty of legroom. Strong headwinds slowed the plane down. The flight time was two hours and when we landed I completely forgot about the train strike. It was Saturday evening. I only remembered the strike when I got to the railway station at Gatwick and found it deserted. Taking a taxi was the only option so I called my cab company and then waited in the Costa on the South Terminal - another excuse to eat rubbish, this time in the shape of a cinnamon brioche roll and a cappuccino. I can't remember what time I reached home, it was probably around 2000hrs.
Strictly Come Dancing was on and I couldn't believe that a whole year had passed since the last programme aired. For some reason I'm going off the whole thing, probably because of the BBC and their PC stance. Karen Clifton is dancing with another woman and I don't really understand why or what the Beeb hopes to get out of it, what do they want us all to be thinking? Oooh! The BBC is so right on! Most people don't care, I know I don't. We all know there are homosexuals and lesbians and it doesn't really bother us, live and let live and all that, so why does the BBC feel it has to ram it down our throats? If anything, rather than suggest that all is fine and two women dancing together - or two men - is nothing out of the ordinary, I would wager that it has the opposite effect. People are tired of having their consciences pricked, we know it goes on and we don't give a stuff. Get over it!
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| Breakfast buffet on my last day |
I can't remember what happened after that, I sat around, not really watching the television and eventually, around 2330hrs, I hit the sack. I slept reasonably well and had aborted my planned ride to Westerham to meet Andy, I simply had to take things a little easy. But I'll be back in the saddle soon. In fact I'm planning a ride or two during the week if the rain holds off. I need to get back to some healthy eating. All week I've been stuffing my face with croissants, biscuits, cakes (for breakfast!) and it's not good. Don't get me wrong, I've loved it, but I need to get back to the way things were a few weeks ago: two to three mid-week rides, plus my weekend cycling. I need to get back to Alpen for breakfast and green tea and I might start making myself avocado sandwiches so I don't have to visit the caff. Looking at the photo to the left, however, I must say that I miss those extravagant, sugar-filled breakfasts and I was getting used to drinking cappuccinos instead of tea, but generally speaking I think I need to be indulging in healthy eating again and that's the plan for this week.
