Sauna Smolders Over Stelvio

Brace yourself sauna lovers, this is going to be an epic one.

As we couldn’t find the internet in Bormio (he says, as if it’s like looking for a large plastic box with lots of lights) we’ll have to update you on two days worth of epic European towel-clad adventuring in just the one post.

So, where did we leave you? Interlaken rings a bell, yes, Interlaken. Well, we left said city (I can hardly use its name three times in a paragraph) and first mate Lars Larson took the wheel and ran away with it. No, not true. Enough of this silliness. Lars Larson took the wheel and steered the good vessel HMS Stockholm up a mountain pass and into some fog. Not fog like you get in Surrey on an October morning but a proper peasouper, couldn’t see a blasted thing for miles and for a while both of us suspected that the sauna had taken on a life of its own and was pumping steam into the cabin. Anyway, we pressed on regardless, carved a path through the retched stuff and popped out to take some photos at the top in our towels, which was nippy, in the very literal sense of the word.

Let us pause for:

Sven Svenson’s report on the condition of the sauna:

When you’re asked a question on a regular basis, you tend to formulate a standard reply which you reel off without really thinking about it. Take the following as an example:

Question: “Does the wood add much weight to the car?”
Answer: “No, hardly anything, it really makes very little difference at all.”

This is a lie. An innocuous one, an accidental one (perhaps started by the captain and readily seconded by the First Mate) but still a lie. The wood, in conjunction with the whole second Volvo we’ve brought as spares, provisions enough to see us through until 2042 and assorted junk thrown in at the last moment has added a tremendous amount of weight to a vehicle that already came in at 2000 kg’s. Most noticeably this has affected our ability to stop (our ability to start and move forward has always been pretty shocking anyway).

We first noticed something was awry when a faint whiff was detected in the cabin. A whiff in the cabin is not in itself unusual - undesirable yes, but not unusual. The whiff however was quickly identified as burning friction material on the brakes. We stopped (after a fashion and more by luck than judgement) and allowed the old girl to cool before ploddering hesitantly on towards Bormio in Northern Italy through a serious of treacherous Alpine passes, taken slightly steadier than the first one.

In Bormio, after finding lodgings at the appropriately named Hotel Guffo we met up with fellow banger-ralliers and set off the next morning in convoy up the Stelvio Pass. This is worth a google, preferably a youtube.
We made it to the top, easy peasy. After a moment or two napping on the top of HMS Stockholm we offered support to our “support vehicle” the “Turdo” who had suffered a blown gasket on the top of their engine but was in otherwise good nick and a Golf Gti which was pouring coolant all over the show.

We then sauntered off down the pass after a meal, admiring the truly stunning alpine scenery, scraping motorcyclists off the woodwork and listening to Jimi Hendrix at full volume... feeling, all in all, very smug.

That was when the brakes caught fire, suddenly, dramatically.

Using the handbrake to take pressure off the main brakes is only a good idea if you’re handbrake isn’t awful. Ours is.

So, we’re a fire extinguisher down, no sweat. We cooled off for half an hour, enough time for the whole population of Stelvio to mistake Chris for an Italian and then headed off on the rolling roads of Austria, past lakes, twee villages, and interested Austrians who huddled round the Sauna for a picture. Fantastisch.
We’re in Saltzburg now and can hear The Sound of Overpriced Tat, calling us into the centre.

See you all in Praha, where we’ll endeavour to provide a route so far in lieu of the “tracker” that never quite worked.
Tarra.

Erik Erikson’s nature diary:

Animals and birds encountered: a buzzard, a mountain goat (very Swiss), one horny cow, 50 or more unidentifiable but certainly rare, small birds and insects now lodged permanently into the front grille of the sauna.