WOW! There is no other way to describe it. Set amongst towering snowy mountains are 150km of pristine twisting roads full of chicanes and cliff edge passes, spectacular views and . Mountains and villages full of snow to the French border then sunny shear cliffs . Roads so amazing Jeremy Clarkson would have wet dreams about them. So many twists and turns that Mr. Kruss would drool and babble incomprehensible motorbike references (just like
on his bucks night). Like a 8 year old on a roller coaster I too whooted and hollered with some of the sharp turns and fast passes. At one point i smelt the exciting mix of clutch and break fumes as i hear the Roar and Growl of a sports car on a narrow pass, i glace at my lancia a car with Italian racing pedigree and an engine that sounded much like a diseased squirrel in distress, next i glace to my left as a Ferrari overtakes just before a maserattii comes the other way. RraaaaaW. There were times i myself had to control myself, stop take a deep breath and take some pictures of the ammasing views, before i too suffered a messy accident in my pants... or on the road.
Lunch was in a historic mountain town in itally, the best tourist information in Europe (yet) a brochure, guided walks, around churches and fascists. Look at the picture on the left of thier town hero... No that’s not Hitler it’s Duccio Galimberti who is giving his speech “We will not rest till every German is driven out of here and there is no trace of fascism left” Really? Maybe you should start with the Hitler moustache, Mussolini. An awesome accent in Italy followed by a breathtaking decent through France i got to the village of Sospel. In Sospel old men play botchet in the s
quare, cats roam the tight allies and grape vines hug the hills around... This is France!
For dinner I thought a quick relaxing drive through Monaco... This drive turned out to be less than quick and less than relaxing too. So I settled down in Nice, which as it turns out is. (Especially with a nice hostel and 1 euro beers)
WOW! There is no other way to describe it. Set amongst towering snowy mountains are 150km of pristine twisting roads full of chicanes and cliff edge passes, spectacular views and . Mountains and villages full of snow to the French border then sunny shear cliffs . Roads so amazing Jeremy Clarkson would have wet dreams about them. So many twists and turns that Mr. Kruss would drool and babble incomprehensible motorbike references (just like 
on his bucks night). Like a 8 year old on a roller coaster I too whooted and hollered with some of the sharp turns and fast passes. At one point i smelt the exciting mix of clutch and break fumes as i hear the Roar and Growl of a sports car on a narrow pass, i glace at my lancia a car with Italian racing pedigree and an engine that sounded much like a diseased squirrel in distress, next i glace to my left as a Ferrari overtakes just before a maserattii comes the other way. RraaaaaW. There were times i myself had to control myself, stop take a deep breath and take some pictures of the ammasing views, before i too suffered a messy accident in my pants... or on the road.
Lunch was in a historic mountain town in itally, the best tourist information in Europe (yet) a brochure, guided walks, around churches and fascists. Look at the picture on the left of thier town hero... No that’s not Hitler it’s Duccio Galimberti who is giving his speech “We will not rest till every German is driven out of here and there is no trace of fascism left” Really? Maybe you should start with the Hitler moustache, Mussolini. An awesome accent in Italy followed by a breathtaking decent through France i got to the village of Sospel. In Sospel old men play botchet in the s
quare, cats roam the tight allies and grape vines hug the hills around... This is France!
For dinner I thought a quick relaxing drive through Monaco... This drive turned out to be less than quick and less than relaxing too. So I settled down in Nice, which as it turns out is. (Especially with a nice hostel and 1 euro beers)
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