[MrsC_772]

Day 8 - Saturday 2 July

Back to the circuit, but a later start, and it being Saturday, meant a much longer queue to get in. The air temperature reading on my clocks was 46 C at one point!

An equally frustrating time at the lid & jacket check in desk, having joined the slowest of 4 lines, we got to the front, only for the woman who had been exchanging kit for tickets to now be just carrying kit to the storage area behind. Having waited 20 minutes in the heat, and eventually depositing our kit, I abandoned any plans about maybe test-riding a Scrambler.

My plan for the day was to photograph most gorgeous and hideous bikes in show. Lots of customised Scramblers this time round, some really well done, some nice Monsters (quite a few blue ones caught my eye), a Giordano Loi Mako sports bike fairing ... and then ... the bikes that taste forgot. Hypermotard with flamethrower exhaust, a surfeit of carbon & gold bling, the bright orange X diavel with a "Lamborghini" sticker, and a Monster I recognised from 2 years ago, which looked like someone had dropped baked beans on the tank. Also of note was a bike with a weird shaped customised tank, in the same pale blue Gulf colours as Utopia's 750 with "Utopia" on the side.

Meanwhile, Dave (of the other parish) having very kindly loaned her his "Special Customer" VIP pass for a pit lane walk and rider autograph signing session, Ursa headed into the pits. She emerged, somewhat frazzled, about 45 minutes later, with signed pictures of Danilo Petrucci and a (surprisingly smiling) Casey Stoner, describing the experience as mayhem. ("There were people passing kids over their heads as if it to be blessed by the Pope, and the bouncers had to start physically pushing people out of the way".) Sounds like she was lucky to come out with all teeth and bones intact, never mind with signed photos!

Ursa and I headed for the grandstand near the exit to watch the lap of honour by assorted racers. Someone (showing off doing burnouts) managed to bin their bike right in front of us! Doh! I headed back to the hotel to cool down while Ursa watched the Diavel drag race and added to her sunburn.

That evening, Ursa & I met Slob & Thuli & Nonnie & Emily's Driver in Cattolica for dinner, the complication being that it was the Germany v Italy football match, and most of the bars & restaurants in town were packed solid. After finding an airconditioned pizzeria not showing the match, and eating (my pizza being washed down by an Italian craft beer appropriately named "Stoner", probably not after Casey though) we headed into the streets for the sport of watching Italian football fans.

Ursa started running forwards, a big grin on her face. I assumed it was because she'd spotted the Kursaal hotel (where, according to the taxi driver bringing us back from Tavullia the previous evening, a certain Andrea Iannone was staying) but no. It was a balloon seller with a bear shaped helium balloon, which she had to have (and which, I am pleased to report, has made it safely back to England in Pompone's van!)

Now accompanied by a bobbing Masha e Orso balloon, we headed to a square where the most enthusiastic/raucous footie fans were gathered. While my Italian vocabulary extends to the boring stuff involving hotels & food, Ursa's more esoteric Italian comprises animals and rude words, so she was able to translate some of the football chants. Some of us wanting to sit down, strategic purchases of gelato were made so we could occupy a table outside an ice cream shop. The table became a balloon-bear sanctuary as well.