Stranded in Puglia

This is my motorbike, gassed up and ready to go to England yesterday morning. I'd been dithering for several days about whether to ride back to the UK for the bike's annual inspection and finally got my act together after Sue and her friend Barbara set off for a weekend in Prague.

It was a lovely sunny morning when I set off with the intention of staying in Rimini on Friday evening before tackling the Alps. I took a scenic road to Bari and was tooling along happily when bam, the bike lost all power and glided to halt on the roadside with all the electrics dead.

After a desultory attempt to find the problem, with trucks and lorries thundering past within a few inches, I gave it up as a bad job and hitched a lift to the nearest town. I was picked up by the classic Pugliese peasant farmer or "contadino" driving a battered hatchback. "Where are you from then?" "London eh? My son lives in Manchester." "So you've got a place here in Puglia?Here's my card, you need fruit, veg, wine or oil, you just call me."

So Giovanni drove me to Putignano where he found a mechanic who found a motorbike mechanic who came out and picked up my bike. So now my beloved Suzuki Bandit, which I have owned since 1998 lies in a garage twenty miles from home awaiting a part which will maybe see me on my way to England next week or maybe not. On this particular day I guess it was Italy 1, Japan nil.