Last summer French Husband and I rode our motorcycle around Europe. We covered 3000 some miles in three weeks. Milano, Admont, Prague, Budapest, Motovun....
Last summer I wrote about our ride on my blog, every inch of the way to be exact, every little nothing we had packed, and were we stayed.
Last summer Lieselotte (Lieselotte reads my blog,) invited us to their home in Austria when they learned about our adventure. We did not know Lieselotte, but that didn't stop us from going.
I sang the Sound of Music the entire way. Plus I ate enough Austrian cakes to make Heidi jealous... and Heidi has never felt jealous her entire life, that dimple cuteness that she is.
This summer, as in today, French Husband and Francis (a friend from our village) are riding to Austria to meet up with Lieselotte's husband Dieter. (You see where blogging can take you! You meet people, then your husband's meet the people you meet, then the husbands plan a vacation without you!)
The three of them, sans femmes (without us women folk), are going to ride by the seat of their pants to Cape North... and back... a mere 7000 plus miles in two weeks.
Questions you might ask:
1) Are they mad? Are they going to start a blog too?
2) Why didn't you go?
They told me that they were not stopping for anything: No Heidi cakes, no photo-opts, no glass of wine overlooking the view, no toilet breaks... and that they plan to ride in the rain, and sleep under the stars.
3) Norwegian summers... the midnight sun?
This morning French Husband woke up late, then he rushed around like he hadn't planned anything. When he arrived at the meeting point he said to Francis, "I forgot my sleeping eye mask!!"
Francis, a natural born teaser reassured him, "Don't worry I'll throw my underwear over your eyes tonight."
4) Did you want to go?
I did. But camping even if it rains is what they plan to do... and I did not want to do that.
And it is a boy thing and I am missing a thing.
A few hours ago French Husband called... I thought he was going to tell me, "Hey Honey, I love you, sorry I was so rushed this morning."
But no. No no no, not at all... he calls to ask he I could reserve the hotel on the other side of Stelvio pass.
"What no camping???" I asked.
"It is cheaper than camping." He offered as if I would buy that line.
Like a good wife, I reserved the hotel. Though I told the hotel manager, "...Could you please add a handful of Heidi-jealous-cake-crumbs between the sheets?" You see I am nice like that.
Day One: France to Trafoi, Italy via Stelvio pass.