Italy 2025 – Ep 9

From Racetracks to Roman Walls – The Last Stretch of Our Italian Moto-Adventure

Dates covered: 03.08.25 to 05.08.25

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After nearly four weeks of zigzagging across Italy, dodging thunderstorms, dancing with mountain passes, and occasionally swearing at Italian road surfaces that look like they’ve been through a small war, the final leg of our trip took us from the legendary track town of Imola to one of the prettiest walled villages in Italy… and then all the way back home. Strap in, this one’s got traffic jams, cold mountain mornings, pizza to die for, and one German bloke towing a boat where no boat should ever be.

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Day 25 – 03.08.25 Imola to Venzone

From Imola’s Race Fuel to Venzone’s Old-World Charm

We kicked things off late today. Don’t ask why — maybe we were still in a pizza coma from last night, or maybe we just couldn’t face the reality that our beloved mountain twisties were behind us (for now).

The day’s plan was to ride from Imola, a city famous for Formula 1 and the scent of burning rubber, to Venzone — a village so ridiculously photogenic that it’s been crowned one of Italy’s most beautiful borghi.

Unfortunately, that meant crossing the dreaded Po plains again. If you’ve never ridden across the Po plains in summer, imagine sitting in a hairdryer, pointed directly at your helmet, while someone sprinkles random trucks, traffic lights, and construction sites in front of you.

We took the SS 309 along the Adriatic coast. It was… well, let’s say “memorable” and leave it at that. Lots of traffic, but being Sunday meant fewer trucks. Small mercy.

Once we got past Venice, things improved immediately. We swung left onto smaller roads, and suddenly there was barely a soul in sight. Instead, we had quiet little towns, vineyards stretching out like a green carpet, and the jagged peaks of the eastern Alps starting to pop up on the horizon.

By pure luck, we ended up in Venzone. The bigger towns were booked solid, but we stumbled upon a charming B&B inside the old city walls. The place looked like it had been plucked straight out of a medieval postcard — only with better plumbing.

Venzone’s been around since Roman times and was once a big deal for trade routes. But in 1976, a massive earthquake levelled the place. Instead of flattening it and starting fresh, the locals rebuilt it stone by stone, restoring it exactly as it was. The result? It’s now one of those villages where every corner is begging to be photographed, and every doorway looks like it leads to a secret wine cellar.

We rounded the day off with pizza and gelato — because when in Italy, it’s practically illegal not to — and hit the sack early. Tomorrow promised a three-country day trip.

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Day 26 – 04.08.25 Venzone

The Three-Country Ride That Turned Into Two

We woke up to the smell of fresh pastries wafting from the local bakery, so naturally, coffee and a quick stroll through Venzone came first. Then it was helmets on for what was supposed to be a loop through Italy, Austria, and Slovenia.

Our navigation app for that trip, Calimoto, apparently had other ideas. Somewhere along the way, it completely forgot about Slovenia and sent us straight into Austria instead. No warning, no “rerouting,” just a silent “nah, mate, not today.”

Still, it was a cracking ride. We did a tidy 180 km loop, climbing through alpine scenery that could’ve been painted for a postcard. The temperature dropped to a brisk 10°C in some parts, which was a shock after all that sweaty coastal riding.

The biggest surprise? The roads in Italy were actually better maintained than some of Austria’s smaller B-roads. Not what you’d expect given Austria’s reputation for precision engineering, but there you go.

By lunchtime we were back in Venzone, tucking into panini and a cheeky glass of wine at a local bar. The afternoon was dedicated to the noble art of napping — a skill we’ve perfected on this trip.

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Day 27 – 05.08.25 Venzone to Aying

From Slovenia’s Traffic Jams to a Thunderstorm Escape – The Ride Home

Our final day on the road started bright and sunny, coffee and croissants at our favourite bakery, and the vague feeling that we should make it memorable. So naturally, we decided to squeeze in one last loop through Slovenia before heading north.

The ride started beautifully, crossing the Sella Carnizza pass into Slovenia. Then the traffic hit. First on route 401, heavier on 203, and completely stuffed on route 206. Why? Because we had accidentally picked the tourist highlight corridor — the emerald-green Soča River and the Vrisc mountain pass.

About 70% of the drivers seemed to have never been near a mountain road in their lives. We even spotted one bloke in a German plated Mercedes towing a boat up the pass. A boat. In the mountains. I’m still not sure if he got lost or was planning on sailing it down the Soča.

Things eased a bit in Kranjska Gora, but got bad again passing Villach in Austria. Out of the mountains, the heat returned with a vengeance.

Then came the Nockalmstraße — famous, twisty, and high. We topped out at over 2,000 meters, enjoying the cool air but feeling slightly underwhelmed by the views. Oh, and it cost €18 per bike to ride it. Not exactly budget-friendly.

With rain clouds forming, we pressed on, battling the traffic nightmare around Salzburg before making the mistake of hopping onto the German autobahn. Border controls? Check. Construction zones? Check. Traffic jams? Triple check.

We bailed back to the smaller roads and finally found some peace — and sun again. That’s when we spotted a massive black storm front heading our way. We pinned it for home and made it with minutes to spare. Half an hour later, the skies unleashed one of the nastiest thunderstorms we’ve seen in weeks.

By the time we parked the bikes for the last time, we’d done 490 km, climbed 11 mountain passes, reached altitudes of over 2,065 metres, and been on the road for a solid 10 hours.

And just like that — 27 days, hundreds of espressos, countless hairpin bends, dozens of pizzas, and one questionable Nutella croissant later — our Italian adventure was over. We’d seen ancient cities, sparkling lakes, rugged mountains, and sleepy villages. We’d been soaked, frozen, baked, and occasionally confused by road signs. And we wouldn’t change a thing.

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If you want to know the truth, this trip reminded me why travelling by motorbike is magic. You don’t just see a place, you feel it — in the wind, the smells, the bumps in the road, and the random conversations you have while waiting for a rainstorm to pass.

Italy, you’ve been bloody brilliant. Austria, thanks for the twisties. Slovenia, we’ll be back when your roads aren’t a parking lot. And to that German bloke with the boat — I hope you found water!

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Lessons Learned from 27 Days, 4,000-odd Kilometres, and One Boat in the Mountains

 1. Never trust the navigation app completely. If it suddenly decides to skip a country, it’s probably not because it knows a secret shortcut — it’s just being a digital peanut.

 2. Traffic is a mood killer. Doesn’t matter if you’re in Venice, Villach, or the middle of Slovenia. If the road is crawling at 10 km/h, you could be riding through the Sistine Chapel and still not enjoy it.

 3. The most beautiful roads sometimes cost a fortune — and the views don’t always match the brochure. But hey, €18 for fresh alpine air is still cheaper than therapy.

 4. Pack for all four seasons. In Italy alone, we went from 35°C coastal heat to 10°C mountain chill in the space of an hour. My jacket vents have whiplash.

 5. You can never eat too much pizza or gelato. You might think you can, but you’d be wrong.

 6. Boats don’t belong in the Alps. Still baffled by that one.

 7. Always chase the smaller roads. Less traffic, better views, and often the kind of little towns you’d never find in a guidebook.

 8. The trip is never exactly as planned. And that’s the best part — the unexpected detours, the lucky finds, and the weird stories are what make it unforgettable.

So that’s it — helmets hung up (for now), bikes cooling off, and heads already dreaming of the next ride. Wherever it is, there’ll be curves, coffee, and a bit of chaos — just the way we like it.

#dustysocks