There’s a universal rule, isn’t there? Every family has a special nonsensical phrase. Something unique to them. Something with a meaning that only they appreciate. Something they bring into play under certain circumstances. We are no exception to that rule.
Rewind to the nineties. Do you remember Gladiators? Our religion of the day would see us praying for our hero – Paul Field. Mighty conqueror of all in his path. King of competitors. British Champion. Then came International Gladiators and the International Final. Paul Field versus the US champ – Two Scoops Wesley Berry. Our boy got pipped. Since then we’ve adopted and adapt the phrase Two Scoops Wesley at any appropriate time. At a recent meet up with Laura, we parked up behind her. The first thing she uttered? “Two Jukes Wesley”. It’s flexible too. If another Juke had parked behind, then she’d have said “Three Jukes Wesley” . . .
Today’s mountainous route brings us a spectacular view of the Dolomites. We’re in Italy, but not as we know it.
The route down morphs into an Alpine wonderland.
A mid-afternoon leg-stretching stop and our last Italian town before the border. We’re in luck. Twenty ice cream flavours to choose from. For some strange reason, we choose two each.
On schedule and seven days after leaving home we cross into Slovenia and onto our two night stop-over at Kamp Koren. It’s in walking distance of Kobarid, tomorrow’s port of call with its WW1 museum. We still haven’t forgotten them . . .