home from Torino

Walking home on a Thursday night, contemplating the Grouper Tartare. And the correct way to get to Mara Dei Boschi for a Gelato or similar icy cold, tongue numbing, brain freezing confection. Dodging the night time revellers and their attempts at parking. Bikes, scooters, motorcycles, complete cars all vying for space on the penumbra where the road and footpath meet. I don't know why I mentioned it was Thursday. Every night of the week is the same. Girls, boys, women, men, babies, toddlers, and the odd grandparent.  Everyone is out in couples or groups. Except me. Cue violins.

I think on that note I'll skip the whole SingleSpeed World champs and do that as a separate entry, as it were.
I am writing this from Zurich airport, boarding in 15 minutes.
I got back to Torino sunday night, a lift with Giampaolo's family. His wife, 2 brothers and their wives... and any number of children. All of us spread through 3 vehicles. We made a stop on our way down the Aosta valley to see a 300BC Roman Aquaduct. No, wait. Two thousand, three hundred years old. Okay. No.Umm. Really?.. Okay. Yes...What?!! Oh. Shit a brick! Or a hand formed stone at least. The valley/gorge plummeted away beneath us. Staring down amidst the rocky outcrops the river raged. Think kayak extreme with a really good crash helmet because your head would,t make it down through the narrow gaps and jutting granite with out a little bit of contact.
Quite amazing, quite blown away.
That night in Torino I ate out, having emptied my larder the week before. Later on that evening the dreaded Diarrhoea started. And four days later is still with me. I thought late monday afternoon when I finally vomited the last of me out, and my stomach finally felt less bloated that this had to be over and done. So I ventured out to organise my train to Zurich. Come Tuesday I felt much better- until I added food to the equation, and found I can convert anything solid to liquid very quickly. My last two days were quite fully booked. Now that was all changing, going down the drain-as it were. I rode across town to Parco Dora to see what happens when Industrial wasteland is converted to a modern space for towns folk to use. Quite an amazing place to go and wander amongst a skeleton of an old Iron Mill. Now a venue for concerts, events or just hanging out, doing graffiti or poking your girl/boyfriend.
After that I was quite wiped out. By the end of the night, that is to say 1.a.m after an unheard of 5 hours of packing I finally got to bed. Four Bananas and a croissant being my only food for the last 48 hours. And now looking back at the last 80 hours I can add a small packet of Peanut M&M's, another Banana and a lovely bowl of Melon.
All in all it was looking pretty grim on Wednesday night, The reality of having to spend the night at the Airport because Zurich had no rooms left for less than 500euro. As it was the train trip from Italy had been thankfully calm. The only tension was in my brain due to the American woman sitting behind me, who insisted on asking everyone around her where they were from. As soon as they answered She jumped in with "we're from North Carolina, have you been there?" I thought it amusing in a "dear christ I am stuck in a Harry Enfield skit" kind of way...but after the 5th repeat I was ready for some violence. Especially when two more things were revealed. 1/ The yanks had spent a week in Milan. 2/ Mrs Nor'Carolina asked "is Milan the capital?" Seriously. Seriously? For fucks sake.
So now, sitting at Zurich airport I had other stresses. Toilet visits were a gamble between me and the people I left my luggage trolley with. Would they steal my stuff? Or would it explode as I ran away to grow a beard and gather a collection of attractive floor rugs...
But, Europes best connected German, Phatty, hooked me up with Martina. She met me back in Zurich train station and guided me home, set me up with Bed and bathroom. What a turn around. Early the next morning... that is this morning, we trained back to Zurich main station where we went our separate ways. She, to Finale Liguria to ride bikes, me to the airport to get checked in..
Got that Bike bag checked in just before I gave the fuckin heavy cumbersome sack to a homeless person (of which there are none in Switzerland, shoulda done it in Italy ) 4th day of diarrhoea and about to get on a flight from Zurich to Singapore, probably going to sit by the Downs syndrome Asian kid that was kissing the pillar beside me in the check th rep in queue, whilst squeeling Mylie/Britney/Christina tunes ( dunno which, maybe he was doing a medly of all 3, DS are all about show tunes don't you know) the phlegm could be spectacular.
The only fuck up in the whole process is that the two jars of Marmite XO that Biff brought from the U.K for me were 250g...mistakenly I had packed them in my carry on. So they got binned.