The day started exceptionally early. I left my luggage at the apartment and escorted my family back to Munich Airport. The rain pelted down as we came through the centre of the city.

Of course, I had not taken my Waterproof, because I didn't want to carry it around the airport. Instead I was wandering around the airport in soaking pants! Nice.

So off everyone went, and I immediately felt lonely. Things weren't likely to get any better as I had planned to visit Dachau Concentration Camp that morning. I figured the rain and wet would help to add to the sombre mood.

The gatehouse at Dachau...

I parked up, got my audio guide and wandered up the entrance. There was the gate house and on the gate 'Arbeit Macht Frei', Work will set you free'.

The cynical inscription...

From then on it was a 2 hour visit to Hell. It was emotional. Often a battle not to burst out crying in front of other people. I stood in a gas chamber by myself. Next door was the crematorium. It was haunting beyond belief.

The gas chamber...

I think everyone should go to a place like that. Just so you can see what happens when you stand by and don't open your mouth. An inscrption said it all. 'They came for the Trade Unionists, but I said nothing, because I am not a Trade Unionist. Then they came for the Jews, but I said nothing because I was not a Jew. Then they came for me, and there was no one left to say anything'.

Returning back to Betty, I found I had left the keys cunninly hidden in the ignition. 100% stupidity in a 5 foot 5 inch package can now be quantified.

Back to the flat, load up and off we went. Out of Germany for the last time. Hugely impressed, have I said this already?

Through Austria, quite unevetful really, and into Italy via a reasonable pass. What I was really fishing for was the Stelvio Pass. At 2758 metres ASL, it is the second highest paved pass in the Alps.

It had been raining on and off all day but I had slowly begun to dry from the mornings soaking. The lower slopes of the Stelvio was dry, then up through the clouds, wet, then dry with the odd bit of blue sky. It was like being on a plane.

Betty was getting ideads about flying...

Actually it wasn't, because you would never get a 737 around the hairpins (and those babies have some lock!).

45 numbered hairpins on the East side, with a fair few un numbered lower down. My hairpin technique has been slowly developing, but I think Owl Neck© is the prefered method. The © thing means I have copyrighted it and you have to pay me, say, 10 pence everytime you use it. As long as we have that cleared up.

Hairpin after hairpin on the Stelvio Pass...

Owl Neck© technique takes the fact that riding hairpins especially on the inside can be hard work. It is made easy by Owl Neck© by simply turning you neck 180 degrees to see what's coming. If it's clear, lune it on any side of the road you see fit.

If not clear, use another methodology (Scooteritis?) To learn Owl Neck© you can begin by riding backwards. Can I have a bag full of money now?

Everything was closed when we got to the top, so a breif picture would suffice. On the other side great big lumps of snow abounded and the view was supurb. The clouds hung in the valleys and around the peaks, I hit a curb and fell off! I was only doing 5kph or so, and manged to eject safely.

At the top of the Stelvio Pass...

There was Betty, front hoop in a snow drift and very horizontal. In fact more than horizontal. An OBTUSE angle. I would need help to lift her, and seeing that, goodness and kindness is a re occuring theme of this trip, I looked at Betty's shocked expression for five seconds and a biker was dismounting to help me.

Betty, just after she was picked up, and she wasn't being cheap...

We had a jolly good laugh about how stupid I was (another reoccuring theme) and I was soon on my way. I also picked up the end of Betty's brake leaver that had snapped off. Oops!

I was hoping to wild camp in the mountains aboue Livigno on the Italian/Swiss border but the weather was awful and I was very tierd.

So I stopped in at a lovely hotel on the outskirts of Livigno and got a room. The chap running the place is wonderful, he is desperate to ensure I am enjoying the food and the view.

Outside I can hear cattle bells ringing as the sheep wander about. Better than a lulaby I think!!