If I wrote all of this as one blog entry, we’d be here forever, and you’d have stopped reading before it got interesting, if it ever did, so…instalments would seem the logical way to go.  Are you sitting comfortably?  Then I’ll begin…

We – being my L2P friend Kevin and I – flew out from Heathrow on Friday afternoon, and were lucky enough to be flying Club class, which I’ve never done, and which was kinda exciting.   I frequently wonder how the other half (5%?) lives ;).  This is the view from the airport lounge, where we got to hang out until it was time to board, having been fast-tracked through all the formalities in the blink of an eye.  That I like a lot.  Queuing may be very British, but that doesn’t mean I want to do it if I don’t have to.

Not only is the lounge essentially purple, as if designed for me,  but it comes complete with free food, and amazing enough, that even included “safe” food!  I could have stayed there for a couple of weeks and been perfectly well catered for.  Well, well enough anyway.  Though I’m thinking they might have kicked me out if I’d tried to…

Crisps and wine – the diet of champions 😉  We didn’t have all that long in there before it was time to go and sit on the expensive side of the divisive blue curtain.  Segregation is a terrible thing ;).  You get bigger chairs, more space, less hoi polloi…  Ah, well, not quite, cos you still get me *grin*.

In many respects I’m a big kid at heart and I LOVE flying.  The whole thing.  Whatever class I’m flying.  Especially on the way out somewhere – it’s all part of the big build up to whatever it is that you’re doing.

Take off is my favourite part.  I know – you can explain how it all works to me, until you’re blue in the face, but as far as I’m concerned, that moment when something that big and heavy breaks free, leaves the ground behind, and takes flight, with all that noise and power?  It’s magic, that’s what it is :).

I also like the fact that even when it’s grey and miserable down on the ground, admittedly not a problem today, it’s blue and sunny up there.  A very PMA inducing thought on those really grey/black days.  

Want to see what they feed posh people?  And me?

I could even eat about 75% of it.  And fizz?  Never wrong.  Bear that in mind if you ever feel like buying me a drink ;).  Our flight to Munich wasn’t a long one, so what with eating and taking daft photos of everything, I didn’t even have time to get bored.  Though I did have time for another bottle of free fizz.  Be rude not to, right? 😉

Before long we were starting our descent, and Germany hove into view.  Interesting colour water, no?

Apparently crop circles have fallen out of favour these days, and I reckon that’s because those visiting aliens have moved on to bigger and better things, like this.

I’m sure there’s a far better explanation, but it would probably be less amusing…  However if you feel able to enlighten or educate me, please feel free.

Munich airport was a masterpiece of German efficiency.  Straight through, bags arrived on cue, our hire car was the right car, with the right amount of space for the bike boxes and luggage, and it was time to hit the autobahn and head for Italy.

Look at those.  A sign of things to come…*gulp*.  It was a 3 1/2 hour journey, uneventful if a bit traffic ridden, and thanks to my satnav, recently upgraded to make sure it has accurate maps, we found our hotel, where a whole heap of the Cycling Weekly entrants were staying without any problem at all.  Ok, so it was right on the main road and bleedin’ obvious but still…

The Ostaria Posta has clearly been recently refurbished.  Clean, spic and span, lots of carved simple woodwork, friendly staff, and a lovely chocolate brown labrador to add that fluffy touch to the place.  It also has, more importantly, a secure basement with rooms for the storage and assembly of bikes.  We were just in time for dinner, so we stashed the boxes until the following day, and did the eating thing,  It was half board, and the food was very nice, though a tad tricky to negotiate sometimes – more of which later.  Standard fare was salad bar – soup – main course – dessert.  Salad I managed, soup was a no go, but the osso bucco with rice was both safe and quite nice.  And although everybody loves parfait, I don’t/can’t, so I passed on dessert.   It was a great relief to be where we were supposed to be, with the bikes in one piece, and every indication that the trip was going to plan.  We met Ian Parr, who organises the entries and helps the entrants, and who cleared up a few of my questions about how to sign in and what the plans for the following days were, which helped to set my mind at ease a bit.  A few glasses of very nice local white wine in the garden outside did the rest, and it was time to hit the sack.