Wild Hogs

I can’t stand it any more but, finally, he is leaving.  Tomorrow Mr. Jules will embark on a motorbike trip around Switzerland.  He is thinking Ewan McGregor in Long Way Down/Long Way Round.  I’m thinking John Travolta in Wild Hogs.  Along for company are mates Brian, pushing seventy and Robert who hasn’t been on a bike for twenty years.  Definitely Wild Hogs.”Don’t let life get too staid.  Every now and then you’ve got to slap the bull.”

Preparation for this trip has brought all his Swiss stereotypical qualities to the fore.  Did you know that one of Mr Jules’ forefathers was Logistics Manager to Hannibal and his elephants when crossing the Alps?  Organising and preparing is in every drop of his blood.  Thus the house has been full of maps.  The marital bed has been full of maps.  There have been mutterings of rain and strange new words: Splügen; Bernina and Chur.  

The German speakers of Switzerland and Mr. Jules is one of those who make up 65% of the Swiss population, are excellent worriers.  Deep in their genetic code is a DNA thread that makes them suspicious of anyone, including themselves, who has a good time. 

To combat this “it will all end in tears” attitude they prepare for every possible disaster.  So discussed at length have been bad weather itineraries, sunny weather itineraries, breakdowns, food poisoning and attacks by killer bees .  Every possible plausible happening has been taken into account, au cas où and a list has been drawn up of every Ducati, Harley and Honda garage in the whole of Switzerland and most of Northern Italy (in case they get lost I presume).

Worryingly he has bought a pair of trousers that look like Jeans on the outside but on the inside are coated in a layer of not-so-comfy Brillo pad.  He walked into the kitchen this week sporting a pink bandana which was immediately vetoed by the kids as ”eeewwww poofy.”  (This is one of the advantages of having children they can tell your partner things that you would never dare to mention.)

He and Brian have spent the best part of the afternoon polishing their bikes.  This is the conversation I heard through the window: 

Brian: “My Ducati is the faster bike, there’s no doubt.”

Mr. Jules: “If I had wanted to go faster Brian, I would have taken a plane.”

Brian also showed me where bikers keep their extra socks and pants when pushed for space – a fact that will come in very handy one day I am sure.

So The Pretty Way Round sets off tomorrow and I for one can’t wait.

Copyright Jules Ritter May and sunny! 2008