Last weekend did NOT suck!

The Sunkels and I had a little adventure last weekend. Into the region called Friuli (pronounced free-you-lee) we went to visit Michelle's homie from school, Maria Chiara, and her boyfriend Marco (totally appropriate to yell "polo!" as we did in the swimming pools of our youth). Friuli is in the very northeastern part of Italy (mark the map Tammy) and boarders Slovenia and Austria. Check this for more orientation... Its near the Alps and although when we got there the air was too heavy with heatwave to see them, the plan was from thursday to monday we were having an adventure.

And ADVENTURE was had! Seriously, sunday nite I lay on the comfy little vintage folding couch making a list of just the things we had seen on SUNDAY ALONE! It was a page long!! From animals to places of significant world war battles, monuments, to swimming holes, cliffs and dale, alto piano (high planes), to deep crevasses, we saw quite a bit in only a few days. Im going to keep this as brief as possible but there are 80 pictures to share, actually 400+ but I figured you might barf if you have to see that many pics of the Sunkels falling in love all over again! Or close ups of my mandible as I fail another self portrait with the zoom on.

here we go - and I hope for my sake you are at work, on the clock, and behind on your deadlines...this is worth it!

We trained to the north, bags loaded with hot weather clothes and snacks.




Arrived in Codroipo and were whisked around the countryside to San Danielle where Maria Chiara ("MC") lives....







a region known for its proscuitto, yes those are whole legs of pig!



Past the castle where MC's Granny was a Duchess...
And Into Udine, the largest town in the region...







Spied this dude hanging around after the fish market closed...







classic Italian scene

And on to quench the nagging heat with an aperativo, "4 SPRITZES for me and my friends here..."



Spritz is Prosecco, a sparkling white wine, mixed with either Apperol or Campari, both bitters, the Aperol being a little sweeter, add some ice and an orange wedge and you have a delicious hot weather evening drink, enjoyed with friends and snacks - a la APPERATIVO! (drinking Game to follow...stay posted...)

We then went to meet up with Marco (polo!) in the tiny mountain hamlet of Cividale (promounced chee-vee-dhal-ay). Marco (polo!) brought with him his wealth of knowledge that would prove to make the weekend absolutely overwhelming with information. Seriously the dude is an amazing tour guide, and mixed in everything from the solemn war stories passed on from his grandfather, to the dirty homophobic local folklore and made the trip not just something to see but a real take home experience. If it weren't for Marco (polo!) we would have missed out on so much!

Cividale

Marco (polo!) in yellow



We crawled into an old cave that is the oldest known remnants of the ancient cultures that first inhabited the area...spooky, but COLD!





Cividale's oldest house still standing...



And one of its younger residents posing with is ride...



We had an awesome sunset and some ridiculous grub at an agritourismo that serves up the grilled meat! Grilling and polenta are the local traditions, along with a potato and cheese cake called a Frico



Went to bed bellies full!

Friday we went to the beach, a must needed break from the heatwave crushing Italy last week.
I of course forgot my camera but luckily the Sunkels not only remembered theirs but it is waterproof! The tiny harbour of Sistiana was amazing, a classic european beach with rock cliffs, coloured umbrellas dotting the shoreline, and rocks on the shore. Follow that link and look at the pictures with the little orange dude, it was amazing!





James getting rad, me cheering...



I jumped off that rock so many times my feet hurt, but got the gold for style points with several round offs that landed me dangerously close the the rock wall. Winning is never without risks...



We met up with Marco (polo!) again and went for pizza, a great place where our hosts knew everybody, and the chance for our first real cultural exchange...





As we enjoyed our beers and pizza the stories floating around the table turned to dirty urban legends (some unfortunately true) dirty jokes and sayings. Since Marco (polo!) opened the tour up with the legend of how the devil sodomized an old man on a bridge, we knew he was up for it. Shelly shared the Rainbow Party story and a dude at the bar was taking mental notes for a later date. Turns out our generation likes the same things, no mater what continent you grow up on.

We finalized a plan for the rest of the weekend, hikes and a night in a refugio, and the Alps. Went to bed bellies full, again!

Woke to more heat but clearer skies...



It was much clearer, although the forecast called for thunderstorms at high altitudes early sunday morning. The drive up was amazing, felt a little like my first drive through Colorado with huge mountains, deep river valleys, and green everywhere.



Our tour guides were taking us to the area called the Montasio, with a high alpine plain called Alpina Piano d' Montasio, the google map link above gives a good shot of the peaks.

We Parked the car and grabbed our supplies, hiked to the Refugio, which is a mountain hut you can stay in for a small fee, this one had coffee and beer and even served food too, we dropped our stuff, grabbed supplies for lunch during the hike and set out for what would be the toughest hike I have ever done, and the most amazing view I have ever seen.





that's the refugio on top of the small hill...








Started easy.....



and amazing...



then got steep....



and real purty...



we were joined by wildlife...







I had this strange feeling as we got close to what felt like the summit and after so much stair stepping I could tell we were close. Trying to look up and not at the trail in front of me I crested the little pass and was overwhelmed by this view....



A few more meters and we were at the summit...Click here for the video link to the panorama...



We had a great picnic up at the summit. I sat quietly and just tried to take it in for a while, thought a lot about my Mom, and about all the other fucked up shit that has conspired to bring me down for the last year, and looked around at where all of it has landed me. After the toughest year of my adult life I couldn't help but have a good cry about the fact that I was having the most amazing and unbelievable journey of my life. A bitter pill to swallow when things seemed so shitty one minute, then a few months later you are slack-jawed by the beauty of the Italian Alps. Overwhelming to say the least. We headed back down anticipating a beer and diner at the local cheese maker, a tradition in the Alps that endures today.



I was leading the pack when I rounded the bend and came across an unsettling scene. A woman had left her aging dog to fend for itself while she hiked further to take some photos. If you think that pisses you off, you should have heard the barrage of things said in Italian when she returned to the dog and the folks who were trying to save the old bugger. Protected by the sun by an emergency blanket I dove in and checked the old gal's pulse and capillary refill time, both of which seemed stable but her laboured breathing had the vet tech in me pretty freaked out. I kept giving her water till the owner came down the hill and others ran down for help. Emergency services were on the way when I decided I couldn't do anything else for a dog whose owner was more concerned about the costs of rescue than her dying dog. An unsettling scene but watching so many people work together like that for a dog made me feel a little more assured that we are not all self serving individualists.



We headed down and the dog was carried past after a while, was going to be fine, although the Austrians who helped out made sure the owner would be fined for animal cruelty. I found a rock that looked like a cross and left it upright for future hikers...







Legs aching we made our beds for later that night, which included a 5 person wide bunk bed set up, pretty cool and so unlike anything you would find in the states. People in the Alps dont need as much personal space and sleeping is just sleeping. We hiked down to the car and drove a tiny bit to the cheese makers...





Dinner at the cheese makers was like a scene out of a Rodgers and Hammerstein epic musical about Austrians fleeing nazis, beautiful views form the dinner table. Stuffed AGAIN we walked back up the hill in the dark. Along the way we could hear bells and the flash of my camera let us know what was making such a beautiful sound in the dark.



try to hear the cowbells in this night time video...

We fell asleep to the sounds of bells in the dark, more stars than Ive seen since the deserts of Joshua Tree Nat Park, and were treated to a raging thunderstorm and strong winds shaking our cabin all night. AMAZING! It was like a scene from a Ricola comercial in the morning and I watched the storm roll through while sipping coffee and listening to some Austrian dudes plan their days hike.



We hit the car and headed for our next "solution" as Marco (polo!) put it, a waterfall in the mountains...











here's one for scale...that's two red jackets back there...



After the waterfall we hiked (again!) up to an abandoned military base, and broke in to look around, with more history from Marco. (polo!) Its creepy to wander an abandoned military base, especially one that saw so much action in both world wars, knowing that so many died there defending one of the toughest entrances to political Italy. Being so close to the boarders made this spot a popular invasion destination and with the view from the fort you can see why.



that valley splits right to Slovenia, left to Austria...





These tunnels were full of machine guns, each small window aimed at invading troops below. the scene must have been deafening and horrifying. The base is being turned into a monument and museum and these new steel doors provided and amazing and haunting photo opp....



"Solution" number 4 for the day was the tiny mountain town of Venzone. This town was hit with one of the biggest earthquakes in Italy's long history, a 6.9 on May 6 1976. The earthquake devastated the town and most was left in ruins. With the Direction of Guiseppe Zamberletti, the town used national and international funds to rebuild the city as it originally was...by putting the original stones back in place! Think about this for a minute, the town gets rocked, most of it is leveled, and several die. Then the rebuilding process starts by sorting all the rubble and putting the big stones back in place, and cutting new stones from the same mountain the originals came from. It gets better...they used a coded number system to number the stones so if they fall again they can rebuild it even easier! All over town there are numbers on stones and a line between the old remaining wall and the new construction. Try to see in the pictures the line, its almost impossible. The rebuilding was such a success that the town is famous for it and nations all over the world still consult those who were involved for rebuilding after quakes. On top of that, the international funds that were not used were returned to country of origin. BRAVO FRIULANI!!!









With all the amazing sights, the big hike, the vistas and so many thoughts of my Mom all weekend I decided to light a candle for her in this amazing church as a symbol not of any religious dogmatic expression or belief, but the simple fact that this place was absolutely devastated and instead of walking away or moving downstream, the people pulled together and rebuilt the damn thing...not far from how I feel my life has been both on the moto last summer and here in Italy.

On a creepy note, there were mummies in the church...



Lions in the architecture...open book means made in a time of peace, closed book means made in a time of unrest with Rome and the Vatican...



Lavender in the shops...





Three-D in the tile work of the old church...



And doggies under fences...



Marco (polo!) continued the tour with another short detour through the Strada di Bottecchia named after the famous cyclist who was killed along the route, and on to a fabulous small vernal lake with the bluest water and most Italian looking crayfish...









Are you getting tired yet? This blog post has seriously taken me more than 6 hours at this point! A full day to document a full day! "Solution" number whatever was a steep hill right in the middle of Friuli, another historic battle spot, trenches still visible, a monument to a famous ship on the unlikely hilltop plateau, a small animal reserve with reindeer, more castles and a nearby river park with a place to have a beer and get coerced into jumping into the icy waters of the river with more friends of our hosts, a task my legs thanked me for as they were killing me from the hike on Saturday still!









Cooler temperatures and our last night can only mean one thing in Italy... MORE FOOD AND WINE!!!! woot! We headed home, got ready to look soooo good, met with more friends, Andrea and Stefano, and had a little beer before heading out to the local Sagra. Its a kind of local food and music festival that happens in just about every little town throughout Italy in the spring and summer months. Andrea and Stefano have both been to the states and the night proved to be the biggest cultural exchange so far on this trip! We shared stories of our travels thus far, dirty jokes, they told of adventures in Kentucky and New York, we told stories of driving in Tuscany and how crazy this whole trip has been so far. We made fun of the teens who were using the sagra as a place to make out and Andrea, who defended once again that his name was originally for men after I made a joke that was set up by MC and Marco (polo!), told a story of his "friend" who had a name for his morning self love routine that was called "The Stranger" that involved taking advantage of one's own hand after bad sleep posture had cut off circulation in the night leaving it numb in the morning. Because my good buddy Taint Boy has a lexicon of these things floating in his head, I knew what it was called and we all had a huge laugh. We had some amazing food and loads of wine. There was even an outburst of song by Andrea and Marco (polo!) that happened as my battery was dying. I didnt get the video but the songs were basically Friulano folk songs sung with english translations. I cant remember the whole songs cause we were laughing so hard but one was about how "all the donkeys like to fuck" and the other ended with the line "grandpa got so drunk he fell down" What a blast!



View from the sagra...before wine



James had puerco...



Shelly had slugs. Kidding, this little guy crawled on MC's leg and freaked everyone out but left us all laughing.









After the wine...

We went back to MC's house, parents on vacation, and raided the liquor cabinet, which was full of different grappas. Several Grappa shots later we were ready for bed. The following morning the sun was out and the skies were clear, and my battery had recouped enough for a few parting shots...







And this dapper fellow I had seen earlier in the weekend...next haircut I pay for will be at this joint!



All in all a fantastic weekend, so much to see, so much taken in, so peaceful and calming despite the action, and we returned to the Panda and the Farm feeling pretty good about the trip away. Making plans for the next one, and pacts to make getting out of here on a weekly basis the order of the summer.

S.

Tuesday Nite on the town...

So the Tiny Hamlet of Faenza apparently hosts a kind of street festival, open market late into the evening on tuesdays during the month of July, and The Sunkels and I could not have been more overwhelmed and pleased last night!



Its kinda like an art walk, or a first fridays, the kind of dedicated evening when downtown businesses extend their showrooms into the street, offer free tasty treats, and stay open late. Locals get to wander with streets closed to car traffic, and browse booths, see local art, hear local music, and in Italy where food in king, sit and have a big dinner at outdoor tables.

Initially we heard rumors that a small bike shop sets up a box jump on tuesday nights and that was our destination when we set out from the Farm. A little distracted by the challenge to set a large hay bail in motion lumber jack style...


...we made it to town just as the sun was setting.
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We found the bike jumps but with a cumulative experience of about 13 years of extreme sports challenges between the three of us, and a decidedly disappointing lack of trick creativity among the participants, we decided to roam around the street fest as opposed to watching three hours of kids doing the same foot plant 360s.

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We of course also needed a tasty beverage and found a cool little bar to post up, drag a table and chairs outside and people watch.

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We eventually wandered to the record store, Casa Del Disco, to see my homies there and were warmly welcomed with smiles, dj'ed soul tunes courtesy of DJ Livia, and a free glass of sangria. Good Times.





Its been so crucial to get away from the Farm at least once or twice a week this summer and last nite was perfect timing, and the bike ride there and back was much needed too. I made it home at about 1 in the morning with the Sunkels not far behind me apparently in the midst of a waterbottle fight. good times.

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Tomorrow (thursday) we are headed by train to the small northern town of Codroipo, near Udine. Its NORTH, which hopefully will mean slightly cooler temperatures. We are staying with a friend of Michelle's, hiking, camping in the woods, and hitting the beach. Should be an awesome little vacation. Stay tuned for pictures and stories.

Ciao
S.

this one is for the RICE KIDS......

Have a good time in Texas, and keep a log of the funny shit that goes down so you can tell me a story when I gets back.

Have fun,
Stay GOLDEN!

S.

as my man Ricky J says...

WHATTA NIGHT...

Although minus the patron and the henny, Me and the Sunkels did a fairly bang up job last night...and after some really long days and nights in the bike shop it was due time to blow off a little steam! And when you blow off steam in Italy, you ride with some friends to a local castle and sip wine and listen to jazz - apparently.



The place is called Torre di Oriolo, and its pretty awesome, atop a steep hill maybe a half hour bike ride from the Farm made even more adventurous by dark starry skies and a couple of shots of scotch on board, and a pannier full of beer bottles we intended to sneak in.



We ride our weak and out of shape asses up the incredibly steep hill, push bikes up the last few meters to the site to meet up with Monica and the left over wedding entourage and by the time we find them only the hearty are willing to stay and continue the festivities another evening. COME ON! Right?! We are in the tower of an old castle man!! Who wouldn't want to stay and tear it up a little? We agree to chauffeur one Angeli Kirk back to the farm by way of the rear rack on my bike, a feat that seemed less and less safe as we finished more beers.

The band was pretty rad, giving off the vibe that James described best as "being inside an arcade" and ripping through some originals, and a kick ass Walter Wanderley cover or two on the Hammond Organ... NICE!



The scene was cool too, with a bunch of picnic tables outside, a small food vendor, and killer cheap wines served outside and inside the castle tower. We of course brought our own beers and aside from being informed by the nice young lady at the wine bar that we could not take the giant beer bottle in due to the glass bottle and the rock brick nature of an ancient castle we were ready to get down. I expected to be thrown out when she smiled and handed us plastic glasses, and offered to store the remaining bottle in the refrigerator. Yeah Italy, coming through with the coolness we needed. Angeli was actually pulling plastic cups out of her purse when this all went down and I realized that I was in the company of genius. Beer-filled little colour-coded Tupperware cups in hand and up the stairs we go to talk about life, and love, and constellations (still not sure if it was the big or little dipper) and spitting off bridges, from the cozy balcony of a medieval castle tower. Pretty cool.

We cruized down from the tower to get more beers, Shelly showed off some amazing dance moves she learned on her recent trip to Ethiopia (all of which are above the waist and avoided my camera like vampires!), we sampled the first bottle of Stout we made a couple weeks back (fizzy, light bodied, and biter = gross), and hiss at the cougars who were prowling around the venue in stretchy shimmer glitter pants. It was good times, good drinks, and great people watching. I even caught this little gem on camera for all the world to see...



James and Shelly sampled the locale fare (french fried tatters), everyone peed in the bushes and we saddled up the bikes to head home. A couple beverages, a late evening, bad lighting and no maps and we only made one false u-turn, and with the assistance of my passenger putting feet down like Barney Rubble I don't even think I took my feet off the pedals. No injuries, home safe, means a couple more beers to celebrate small victories.









All in all a great time blowing off some steam and planning the next couple weeks off at the Farm, that's right folks, TIME OFF! The peeps here have been super cool about helping us figure out what to do and giving us a big time break from work. It helps that of the 300 plus bikes here, only about 20 are left after tomorrow, and they are only going to be rented by couples on vacation that fit a particular height profile...

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We seriously only have GIANT and TINY bikes left in the house. And that means mountain bike rides, trips to the beach, long rides along old roman roads, trains to cities, and the kind of adventures I signed up for back in March. With Mrs Sunkel here it should be regular three amigo nonsense.

Expect more goodness on the blogityblog

S

two-thirds hellatious...and the return of film

ok, so its not really film but digitized images captured through a virtual shutter and pixelated on an electronic storage device until I monkey fuck around long enough to get them on the computer...but you get the idea. Did you know that Obama was the first president who had his official picture for the halls of the white house taken with a digital...times they are a changin'.

Haven't seen much of Italy lately, sorry, I hear its nice. We, and I say we because James has become my inseparable sidekick in the last few weeks, have been inside the farm, more or less confined to the bike shop, garage, and refrigerator for the last two weeks building and prepping our asses off! At one point I think we went to the store during lunch one day, to kill two birds with one stone. Speaking of birds, we did have this visitor through the farm one dusk, and if this new camera had not arrived courtesy of The Professor, no one would believe me...



I chased him down and snapped a couple shots while trying to grab one of those tail feathers and not get decapitated by the wires that keep the vines in a row while he dodged back and forth under the rows of grapes. Then I got back to putting bikes together...

from this....

to this...

Seriously, just this week we were handed rosters for no less than 66 bikes (that's two thirds the number of the beast if anyone is awake) for tours and rentals leaving at the end of next week. We have been in the shop by 8am, and in there till about midnight on most nights, taking a good 2-3 hours for lunch, naps and a refresher before the second half.

we would like to thank our sponsors; gangsta rap, naps, cynicism, whiskey and beer.

There has also been the commotion of a big wedding here at the farm too. Our boss Monica got hitched late last nite (while James and I were annihilating a bottle of cheap rum) and between her friends and family being here, most of whom wanted to borrow bikes for the weekend we have not only had our hands full with extra bike builds, but house guests who have too many questions, and dinner parties outside the bike shop windows that limit our ability to loudly create new swear words when tools go astray and bikes get ornery. Its been a rough couple weeks but we are working great together, like a regular Skipper and Giligan in here.



I wanted to brag about how many bikes we did in one day, but the days have since started to blend and blur together so that I cannot tell anymore. Needless to say we killed it and here I sit Saturday night, cold beer, James on his way by train to meet with the lovely Mrs James Sunkel for the weekend and only a handful of bikes to prep before the big tours leave on the 9th. Of course we reserve celebrations and sighs of relief for any last minute additions and the inevitable tour that returns late on thursday nite with 20 bikes in the van that need to get prepped before they leave again the following morning...yeah, that's how it works sometimes, and we are prepared with all the "tools" one might need...take a close look at the bench set up...



Now those of you who know me will know that this kind of work is usually followed with an equally intense level of play, but because of the heat (90 by 9!!) we have had little energy to take the playing much further than the bike shop that we feel so comfortable and insulated in. Which means that late night shop shenanigans has turned into drinking the beer we made, slugging whiskey, hooting at the full moon, trying to start the Panda with 3 unripened apples up the tailpipe, "teching" tour leaders bikes (more on that in another post...) and ending in me getting a mohawk from James late one evening. Work hard, play hard. Or in this case, Work stupid, play stupid.

James face says it all...





I figured it was July and time for new facial hair too...so the British Royal Navy makes its triumphant return.



I keep saying the best part of this whole experience has been realizing who I am, and all the driving and exploring and adventures I could get up to here in Italy or abroad, I learned alot about myself trapped under a stack of rosters in the bike shop this week too. Its been sort of an all encompassing kind of learning, with a little aggression as some of it has come out as the result of feeling like I was backed into a corner, but Ive scribbled about that here before. Its been good to know myself better, but it boarders on getting a little cocky I think. Listening to a lot of rap music doesn't help but I think knowing myself and standing up for myself are two different things. Having a good idea of who I am and actually having pride in who I am are entirely different things. Hard to explain what went down. Its little things really, like hearing someone bitch about not knowing what to do about their 8 week vacation and realizing that getting a 4 day weekend to rest your hands and back are a simple pleasure the financially comfortable will never know. Hearing women talk about spa treatments, which adult acne medications work the best, and obsessing about the superficial makes me feel pretty strong as a man, and secure in the fact that the people I call my friends are deep feelers, genuine thinkers, and tough on the inside, without all the baggage of media-inspired insecurities. Getting called a "tool" by some entitled american bitch who couldn't figure out which eastern seaboard resort community she wanted to go to this year, and realizing that I can do a job in my sleep that so many of the worlds "important" people have to pay for made me feel pretty confident with my lot in this world. And skipping the wedding altogether to get drunk and carry on with my buddy James made me feel pretty confident in my working class roots. I kept trying to tell them I don't go to weddings, unless you need a bartender or someone to put the chairs away afterward.

When I got this job I had daydreams and fantasies about having my home be Italy for a while, to use this as a home base for exploring europe, and for getting to live a life I never dreamed would be mine, a life that involved in my own fantastic imagination, boats and the sea, farmlands, and wine tasting, and exotic locales with exotic women, and rich foods, tables set with too many forks...you know, a real rich european experience. Needless to say that when I caught myself this week eating with greazy hands a late nite dinner of salad with olives from a can, exhausted and drinking cheap beer, I realized that the life I live might be just more real than the dreams that get interrupted by the throbbing pain in my calloused and chapped hands. And I sleep pretty good at night loving this life just the way it is - REAL.