Alone Like a Rolling Stone

Still 13 days to go

Anyhow the title fits to this post, they stole our beautiful bicycles from the pier. I hadn't noticed it in the morning. When Gaby came from the shower she said "Our bikes are gone" and in fact, the only thing hanging from the pillar was a part of the carrier and the wire rope lock with which the bikes were secured. Pretty bold when you consider that the whole marina is under video surveillance. But in the marina office there was only a shrug of the shoulders and the answer "They can't do anything now and the video images are only allowed to be examined by an official authority and that's the Carabinieri". Well, data protection also protects thieves. Not that we had hoped for any success with the trip to the Carabinieri, but on the one hand it is also an exciting experience how the Italian police work and on the other hand we wanted to report the incident to the insurance company in order to maybe get some compensation for the damage. We don't hope to be very successful with the latter either.

We quickly try to forget the matter, because in the last two years there has never been such a problem and the marina is always safe, the damage is not too big. Nevertheless something happens inside yourself that has to do with trust. Suddenly you see potential thieves in everything that passes by. Why does he stop at our boat and fiddle around with his mobile phone? And that one has already walked past here three times today. Even if the monetary damage is not too great, the lack of freedom of movement impairs us and has the trust in our environment, at least temporarily, a little limited.

We already noticed the restriction when we went to the police. The station that was responsible for our case is at the other end of town and we had to take a 45 minute walk. There arrived, a nice Carabinieri received us and we tried to make ourselves understandable with our few Italian and English chunks, which we succeeded quite well. Quickly a protocol was created and translated in Google into German. Good! the German translation was not now the hit, but quite understandable and usable for our purposes. The transcript was handed over to us and probably that was it. That's why the thieves don't have the audacity, they probably know that nobody cares about the video material anyway. On the way back we went shopping, now everything has to be a bit more economical.

Otherwise we are occupied right now with our toilet, an extraordinarily beautiful work and recommended to all those who think they would have been up to their necks in the so-called shit. Anyone who has ever repaired a toilet knows what I am talking about. It started with Gaby saying that there was water in the bilge. With water in the bilge I always get a little clairaudient and so I rather looked once. There was actually water in the bilge and not too little. During the routine check I had not closed the valve of the toilet suction hose properly and so the toilet overflowed and the bilge filled up. The automatic bilge pump had also given up its spirit and so once again everything came together. The problem was quickly identified and fixed, but the consequences took all day to fix. In the end I decided to tackle the holding tank including the laying of all hoses but this was only the beginning. Quite apart from the fact that the space for movement in the rear part of our boat is extremely limited and you constantly slide around on your knees or try to loosen or tighten any screws in an embryo position, the whole action was more than sweaty. This started with the fact that certain hose clamps couldn't be opened by rust, such a 1" hose is extremely unmanageable and winds in all directions, but not where it should go. But until the time came the old hoses had to be taken down first. First nothing moves at all, then the "smarter one" gives way and the fingers or the hand gets into a painful cold deformation between the onboard wall and the hose with the corresponding scratch marks on the joint bones of the hand. At the same time, the contents of the tube are emptied over one's face because the pain-eaten face and the tears in the eyes make it impossible to find the provided bucket. And such a 1" tube has a lot of content, you can believe me. Anyway, after another day we managed to install the holding tank and rebuild the toilet. We will spare you further details at this point, because we are sure that we will definitely come back to this topic on our trip.

After hard work we enjoy a glass of red wine tonight and relax. In this sense, keep your ears stiff.

In the next post we write about the postal service and how long an express letter with the snail mail from Germany to Italy takes.