The campsite was about thirty miles further on and we pulled gratefully into our allotted area with a spectacular sunset setting over Lake Como.

Unloading the bike I noticed the screw heads on the rear brake pads were through and had scored the disc quite badly. I pointed it out to Robert and after some discussion we decided that they would have to be replaced before we went much further.

The following morning we got the map out and found we were about thirty kg outside of Turin. We agreed that there was no point packing up the bike, to unload her when we found a garage that could do the work, so Robert went off to find a Yamaha dealer in the city, leaving me alone at the campsite village. I used the launderette doing some much needed washing then hung it to dry and headed into the nearby village.

I wandered around did some shopping, bought some bread, salami, gorgonzola cheese some onions tomatoes and oranges from the various shops in the village. Then I found a cafe with some English books for sale. I spent a happy couple of hours reading the latest Stephen King novel, eating lunch, a chicken sandwich, and people watching while drinking coffee and water sitting outside it.

Noticing the time I decided to wander back to the camp as I was sure Robert would not be much longer. Arriving back I noticed our tent was now in full sun, I unzipped it and it was as hot as hell inside. I left the shopping in our cool box with the ice packs and went outside zipping up the tent behind me to keep the mosquitos out.

A couple of hours and I was heading for well done despite the copious amount of sun block I had slathered on. Thinking about finding some shade I took a blanket, my book, a cheese and tomato sandwich and a bottle of water down to the side of the lake. The trees gave me some relief from the blazing sun so I spread out my blanket, making sure I could see the tent, my reasoning being that when Robert got back he would be able to see me from the tent. Pretty soon I fell asleep.

I woke several hours later, the day gone and the sun beginning to sink in the sky. I wandered back to the tent. No bike no Robert. Reasoning that the repair might have taken longer than we thought or that Robert might have needed to drive around some to find a dealership I went for a shower convinced he’d be back and ready for a trip to the village for some dinner by the time I'd finished.

Dried and dressed, still no sign of him. I gathered the washing which was now bone dry and sat to wait., by nine o'clock I was getting worried and my imagination was running riot. What if he’d had an accident? Did he have ID on him? How would they find me or even know I was here if he was unconscious in a hospital somewhere? What was I going to do? Reasoning that I shouldn't panic and if he wasn't back by the morning I'd find a way to get into Turin, after all there must be a bus even if only weekly!

Sitting on a bench outside the shower block biting my nails and every now and again pacing around the building. I heard a distant engine. Was that the bike? A series of gear changes and I knew it was - I'd recognise that engine note anywhere.

Robert pulled into the camp. I don’t think I`d ever been so glad to see him. Desperate for a shower he stripped his leathers and helmet off and opened the tent to get a towel and some clothes.

`OH MY GOD!` He exclaimed `what is that smell?`

I stuck my head into the tent and realised I hadn't put the top back on the cool box

`Err might be the cheese in the coolbox` I said

`I think it's dead` he said laughing.

The smell of that cheese haunted us for the rest of the holiday. Unable to stand it any longer, we left the tent at Knebworth festival the following year.