And so to the last stage of our trip. Tunisia – a land dominated by President Ben Ali who was fresh from winning a recent election with 90% of the vote. His picture features in every cafe and car and on every street corner. We arrived at the ferry terminal in Tunis under his gaze and got a little worried when Sam was taken away by a dozen Police to get a visa (Sam is the only one of us travelling on his Australian passport I’m embarrassed to admit!). There seemed to be thousands of different sorts of Police and border guards wandering about and we all became a little concerned as to what sort of freedoms the people of Tunisia enjoyed. But then the representative from the Ministry of Culture who met us at customs quoted Kant at us – “free will is inherently unknowable - even a free person could not possibly have knowledge of their own freedom. So we cannot use our failure to find a proof for freedom as evidence for a lack of it.” So I asked if he thought Ben Ali considered the universal necessity of causation, the synthetic nature of mathematics and the Newtonian absoluteness of space and time in his rulings? Luckily Sam arrived intact with his visa at this moment so he couldn’t answer. And seeing as it was getting late, he had filled in my visitor’s card for me and got me through customs without the border guards even looking at me we continued on into Tunisia without an argument.

Typical Tunis skyline

Top Gun

Our first day here was a rest day which we always seem to spend searching for bike shops to restock. We’d got some dodgy inner tubes in southern Italy – the valves would fall out shortly after pumping them up! Unfortunately our new Tunisians ones weren’t much better and a couple of days later we were cursing them as we spent a tense 50kms in the middle of nowhere with no spares praying we didn’t get a puncture. Tunis has a great atmosphere though and the people are very open and friendly. We visited Hannibal’s home town of Carthage most of which is covered in Roman rather than Carthaginian ruins. It also seems to be one of the wealthier suburbs of Tunis. Nice big modern houses ring the ancient Punic twin ports and President Ben Ali’s palace is just to the north. We weren’t allowed to film in that direction and if we strayed too close a bloke with a machine gun would come and tell us off.

Antonine Baths at Carthage

Turkeys in Carthage and some strange birds in the foreground too

We had lunch in a cafe called Uranium – we assumed they named it that as it took the half life of uranium (4.5 billion years) for your order to arrive. So after quite a long wait camera man John endeared himself to the waitress by demanding tomato sauce. She was also about the 4.5 billionth waiter/waitress he had aggravated on our trip so far. After some more filming and riding we had dinner in an amazing restaurant (we are eating a lot) that used to be a sultan’s palace – the resident sitar player asked where we were from and then started playing the Australian national anthem! Impressive, but it is one of the worst national anthems in the world don’t you think??

View from the Byrsa Hill over Carthage

Anyway after a few days of travel, a rest day and some filming days in Carthage and Tunis we were wondering if we would be capable of riding 120kms inland towards Zama – the site of the last battle of the Second Punic War. We had no idea really what the roads where like or whether Tunisian drivers would run us over without a second thought. But after some navigational issues getting out of Tunis and a quick stop at a bike shop where Mehdi, a former cyclo-cross champion of Tunisia sold us some new water bottles – the old ones had gone irretrievably mouldy, we found that Tunisian drivers were actually really good. Not as respectful as Spanish drivers perhaps but certainly better than Italians.

Mehdi Thameur outside his shop kindly greasing our chains

It turned out to be a very long day but completely different riding to anything we had done previously. Riding through dirt poor towns on a bike that would probably feed the entire village for a year if they sold it wasn’t the best feeling. But the kids would scream at you – usually in a friendly way we thought until a rock bounced between me and Danny and then we started to wonder! No really everyone seemed very friendly and lunch was at a roadside restaurant. A kilogram of barbeque sheep and a very spicy mixture of tomato and chilli was on the menu. The next sheep in line was tethered to the bbq – waiting for his turn while his brother cooked!

We passed an amazing ruined Roman aqueduct that seemed to go for miles in either direction and the last 10km of the day were really very hard work...but only a few days of riding left...

Our final instalment for the BBC History Magazine is here:

http://www.bbchistorymagazine.com/blog/battle-zama-%E2%80%93-hannibal-meets-his-nemesis

Sunset over the modern village of Jama believed to be near where the battle of Zama took place (thanks Andrea Illescas for the photo)

On a long trip like this interpersonal relationships become very important and are often the cause of the most interesting bits of the journey. I imagine it might make a pretty good documentary following a crew making a documentary? A bit like the new show we are thinking of pitching to the BBC: "Entertainment Tonight Entertainment Tonight" - as the presenters of Entertainment Tonight have become celebrities in their own right they surely need another show just to follow them? It will be an endless supply of new shows - after a few years there will presumably be "Entertainment Tonight Entertainment Tonight Entertainment Tonight"??

Anyway us three have had some good arguments - the best one when riding through the northern suburbs of Naples on slippery black basalt cobble stones, hungry, in pouring rain and mad Neapolitan traffic. Luckily most of the things we screamed at each other were inaudible! The crew also have their moments but there are also times when everyone works together, sacrificing themselves for the team...harmony, symphony, mellifluousness, rappaport etc. One such heart warming moment was in Trani. We were filming in the port and a grumpy looking bloke was sitting at a stall ironically selling friendship bands. He yelled something at us when we arrived - his wild eyes betraying something we couldn't quite pin down. My first guess was evangelical christian so we ignored him and kept riding. A minute later there was a commotion behind us and we turned to see him attacking John! He was grabbing for the camera and lashing out and did actually manage to kick John in the bum!! I must admit we laughed and secretly thought he deserved it (he does) but Francesco had other ideas. He threw himself into the line of fire - separating our cameraman from the rabid friendship band stall holder. He was very calm and professional and pleaded with the attacker to calm down. After multiple "cazzos" and "va fancullos" the (as it turns out) recently released convict and drug addict also kicked Francesco. By this time a crowd had gathered but Francesco the bodyguard had the situation under control.

We overheard this exchange between Francesco and John soon afterwards:

Rachel(John): And you're ready to die for me?

Frank: It's the job.

Rachel(John): And you'd do it? Why?

Frank: I can't sing.

We were reunited once again with the film crew in Milan. Andrea is directing the final two episodes of the documentary - amongst her many attractive attributes she laughs at all our jokes - which is very rare as they aren't ever funny. Francesco the fixer is full of concerned advice for us. His best so far being in response to impersonal staccato questioning by a bloke in Rome dressed in a long green felt jacket - the sort of thing you'd expect an Austrian Pfalzgraf in the Sound of Music to be wearing. He approached us very directly walking his two labradors (with purple leads) and said without introduction "what are you doing?" and before we had time to acknowledge or answer "where are you from?" and then "is this for television?". This seems to be a very common method of attack once a film camera is out and being naive n00bs to the industry we are slowly being worn down by cold-blooded public cross examination. I was on the verge of tears and tried to convene with the friendly labradors - I suddenly thought goodness, compassion, fidelity and altruism remain impenetrable mysteries contained however within the limited space of the corporeal exterior of a dog? Or do they?? Poor Danny was nervously fiddling with his handlebar tape and Sam was twitching and muttering under his breath but Francesco came to the rescue with some excellent advice. We follow the Pfalzgraf to his office and once he had sat down and was comfortable with his coffee we start asking "what are you doing? who are you writing that email to? why are you looking at that website?". It was much funnier at the time...and its actually always nice when random people come up to talk to us but its strange that no one ever says hello first. Anyway the crew have a driver for this leg too - Sergio - who is lovely but because our Italian is so bad we unfortunately can't order him around as much as we would like to. And John has returned for the final two episodes - he still is the same - extremely capable and very funny when he is complaining about something which fortunately for us happens quite a lot. Yesterday he was giving it to Bono and Sting "I'm sorry, I'm sorry but if you come up with the lyrics a De do do do, de da da da Is all I want to say to you you have to be a f*cking idiot - who the f*ck says a De do do do, de da da da".

Sergio

Francesco

First day back filming we visited a wine maker called Hannibal. He grows wine near the Trebbia river where his predecessor Hannibal had his first big victory over the Romans. I'm not sure about Danny and Sam but I was completely drunk at 11am after one glass of wine as we attempted to interview him. But because I am a professional I didn't get him in a headlock or smash up his winery instead I made a dumb joke about his focaccia bread. He didn't get it - but I think mainly because his deaf mother kept screaming at us in a strange Italian dialect and offering us massive hunks of speck (cured horse meat).

Filming in the Trebbia Valley

Focaccia bread at Hannibal's winery

Trebbia Valley

The rest of the day was a little hazy but I remember Danny's pedal falling off - our first significant mechanical problem. We also had dinner in a strange place that offered amongst other dishes Gnochetti of the Superhero. I asked for a banana fritter but the waiter refused and said the only possible dish he could serve me was Gnochetti of the Superhero - the kitchen staff and toilet attendant agreed - and so I was served Gnochetti of the Superhero. It was pasta with bits of sausage meat so I have no idea why it was called Gnochetti of the Superhero or why they insisted I have it but I thought perhaps that a prolonged belief in a manifestly absent divine entity provoked in them this display of idiocy incompatible with the long term maintenance of civilisation? What do you think?? Danny had Risotto of the Artist which looked and tasted disgusting but at least it was purple in colour which is in fashion here in Italy at the moment.

Next day we were at the Trebbia river. Its nowhere near as high as it was when Hannibal defeated a Roman army here which is lucky as I had cross it. Its only thigh deep but still very cold. We had a very productive day filming there and then drove south to Tuscany and an amazing old Monastery where they filmed parts of the English Patient. John pointed out that he was actually German so we wondered why it was ever called the English Patient in the first place? We got there quite late and the staff very kindly waited up for us and made us a massive dinner.

Crossing the Trebbia

A beautiful place to stay and we have all arranged to come back and visit as we were up early to film around the Tuscan countryside and then onto the Arno Marshes which no longer exist. Piedro our expert contributor met us there for a chat and then we attempted to traverse part of a swamp with our bikes. Piedro and his friends watched in bemusement from the pier as we got covered in reeds and mud doing pieces to camera in the freezing cold marsh. It was actually lots of fun until we had to clean ourselves off in the motor home toilet emptying area of a campsite. Our shoes have never quite recovered - they are dry now but the stench from them is inexorable.

Tuscany

Piedro the swamp expert

Thanks Simone for the bike boxes!

Danny, Sam and I are all quite nice diplomatic people which can get a little frustrating at times. We get to an intersection for example and Danny suggests we go left, I say right and Sam says straight through. After 20 minutes of delicate and polite discussion we decide on a course of action that is neither offensive nor non-discriminatory. I'd actually given up navigating lately as three opinions were worse than two. We had multiple decision points every day; where to stay? Where to eat? What to eat? When to get up? Where to film? Pretty pathetic decisions to make in the grand scheme of things but we were experiencing a paralysis in our decision making capabilities, a crisis of modernity.

So we needed a new governing structure. We appointed a committee to consider a Joint Chiefs of Staff, a Privy Council, a Soviet and a Russian Oligarchy but in the end we only really had the man power for a Tyranny. We had considered Dictatorship on previous cycling trips but it has only been in the last week that we have been brave enough to make the transfer of power. Like the Roman Republic appointing Dictators in crucial moments during their war against Hannibal I won the coin toss that meant I became our first Dictator.

My first decree, like all the best Dictators, was to extend my Dictatorship indefinitely - unfortunately our Executive Producer was uncontactable to ratify the emergency legislation. My second was the forced adoption of Juche. Thats about as exciting as it got. We investigated the Servian Wall in McDonalds at Rome's Termini station - this was the wall that prevented Hannibal taking the city and it now lives on the lower ground floor of the train station covered in cigarette buts. It was a bit of a depressing experience but we couldn't dwell in it. We had a long way to go to get to Foggia and after some positive reinforcement from Our Dear Leader we set off. Logistics were easy and our chain smoking Kojak look-alike Hotel proprietor recommended a Trattoria where Inter Milan were playing Dinamo Kiev on the tele. It was full locals - an all male crowd - except for one woman we felt quite sorry for who had her back to the tele and was trying to talk to her husband but his eyes were glued to the football. The proprietor - who is a spitting image of Big Al off Happy Days - sat us down in prime position and seved us a very good meal. Danny kept yelling in delight whenever Dinamo scored which didn't go down too well. He did the same thing in a little cafe near Perugia in 2002 when South Korea knocked Italy out of the World Cup and we all slowly distanced ourselves from him as the locals went on a rampage. I did however suffer insubordination and a lack of respect for the dignity of my office. My one serious decree during the day was to tell my subjects to go to the toilet of this Trattoria and come back nude and sit at the table normally to see what would happen - they refused and my reign ended in confusion and ignomy. Am I not merciful? http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YpoqoBAItY4&feature=related

A few years ago we were riding in Germany and learnt the Imperial point. A large group of cyclists was coming towards us and as they got closer we realised they were a huge professional cycling team. The leading cyclist sat up in his saddle and slowly and arrogantly pointed towards our side of the road - meaning "stay over there you peasants". It was one of the best things that has happened to me and we all use it regularly - mostly on cars but also sometimes on cyclists who don't seem to know where they are going. So as Sam was crossing Traversette (which by the way is much harder than Clapier!) Danny and I went for a little ride from a great little place we were staying in called le Fontenil. This was Sam's base before Traversette and it was run by the nicest person in France - Jean-Pierre - he made us breakfast having been up till 4am with a bikie gang he also had staying, he let us use the kitchen to cook our meals, we used his van whenever we wanted, he made us dinner, we basically had the run of place and if we had burnt it down I'm sure he would have smiled and said no problem. Unfortunately as I returned from my ride a car came flying around a corner on the wrong side of the road just in front of me. I was nearly home so I Was a bit tired and irritated so I automatically sat up and gave it the Imperial point - but just as I was straightening my left arm the driver lifted a hand to wave - got halfway through his friendly gesture and his jaw dropped and there was hurt and confusion in his eyes as he saw that I wasn't actually waving back but telling him to p*ss off onto his side of the road. It was all over in a second and the driver was Jean-Pierre! I had just insulted the nicest bloke in France. It was never mentioned but there was a palpable tension between us for the rest of our stay. I looked on jealously as he fulfilled every whim of my brothers and the crew and I felt too guilty to ask anything of him. Luckily I am the middle brother and am used to being deprived (mine's worse).   

The final affront was on our last night of three there - Jean-Pierre had been running around after us for days and at last he sat down with us for a glass of wine and a rest after dinner. He'd been there all of 5 seconds when someone said "can I have a coffee". We all groaned sheepishly as the poor bloke was up like a shot to fetch it...

Everyone at le Fontenil - Jean-Pierre kneeling at front

All the shopping we inherited from the motor home. We tried to carry as much as we could over Col Agnel

So Sam arrived back from Traversette completely exhausted - perhaps the tiredest I'd ever seen him - since the birth of his son Jack perhaps - and I'm not one to exaggerate. We had a day of filming in the Alps before the crew left us again for our solo ride through Italy. We were orginally going to leave from Turin but decided to ride from the Alps where we had regrouped after our solo crossings. To get out of there we had to cross the equivalent of Mont Ventoux - it was the Col Agnel - Jean-Pierre warned us it was very difficult. And it was - freezing cold too - the first really cold day we had had. We made it over after a long struggle but a beautiful ride and perhaps another route Hannibal may have taken across the Alps - all the locals seem to favour it at least. Once we had crossed into Italy we had a run of 50km downhill punctuated by a very good coffee.

Top of Col Agnel - amazing views towards Italy

Descent to Italy I

Descent to Italy II

Descent to Italy III

Descent to Italy IV

Descent to Italy V

We got as far as Piasco where we stayed the night in someone's house - they didn't seem very keen to let us in initially which was fair enough but by morning were happy to give us free reign in their house when they headed off to work. Next morning we rode on and cooked ourselves lunch in a little park in a town called Bra - with our diet we are concentrating on fragmenting elastines and accumulating lipofusion inside our liver cell. More importantly Bra is where we nearly learnt the true meaning of love. Our post lunch cappucinos came with Baccio chocolates that told us "love is a storm of pleasure and an enchantment of sweetness" - this seemed to conflict with the theory in a book we are all reading (we have torn it into three) that women invented love because during child birth they are weakened and need a powerful protector. Now, according to the author that women are strong, independent and free they have given up inspiring or feeling a sentiment that had no concrete justification in the first place! So we had very conflicting ideas to deal with as we rode on to Pavia.   

Bathroom in Piasco - they knew we were coming

The riding in northern Italy isn't great but we had been spoiled in the Alps. Its flat at least but very busy and drivers are impatient and aggressive. Unfortunately we had to take a train back towards Piasco as we had left some important equipment behind. Don't worry I have calculated using Sierpinski triangles and Mandlebrot sets that we have not cheated by catching this train. Anyway we watched a very bad horror movie during the journey - Drag me to Hell. We were wearing headphones and one very scary bit I yelled out and the whole carriage jumped and then looked giggled when they realised what we were up to. It reminded me of a similar incident when a bunch of bananas fell on my head when I was sleeping in a train ages ago travelling around Europe with my great friend Mat Gale. It was a huge bunch of bananas and it was the middle of the night in a boiling hot, packed couchette somewhere in Italy. I instinctively yelled and threw them off my face and onto a tiny South Korean girl sleeping in her seat opposite! I tried to explain but it was useless - I'd woken the whole couchette and I retreated, swapped with Mat and slept on the baggage rack in the corridor.

The Alps from Italy - Mt Viso is the big mountain on the left - Sam crossed just to the right of it

A little bit about Pavia, Piacenza and the first clashes of the 2nd Punic War between Carthage and Rome:

http://www.bbchistorymagazine.com/blog/hannibals-first-big-victory

Some stats for the end of filming for episodes 3 and 4...670km to where we split at the base of the Col de Galibier. By the time we got across to Italy we had done between 800 and 900km.

Our route from Russan to the Col du Lauterat

Our separate routes over the Alps into Italy. Sam = red, Danny = green and Ben = blue (our shirt colours)

The Col de Clapier is one of the routes scholars suspect Hannibal and his army may have taken over the Alps. I investigated this one and Danny and Sam were off to check out others. After crossing the Col de Galibier I stayed in the Ambin valley nearby with the crew and I cycled off at first light as I wanted to check out a white/bald rock which is mentioned in ancient accounts and would indicate Hannibal's travelled up the Ambin valley. However after beans and rice for dinner and breakfast my priorities changed and I instead needed to find a toilet. Luckily I found one in a cafe - not so lucky for the patrons - but the kindly owner noting my sudden loss of weight gave me a free pan au chocolat! I was ready to meet our guide for the day, Gilbert, in Lanslebourg Mont Cenis. He looked a little like Billy Bob Thornton but with a squarer head and dark hair and less boggly eyes. So actually not a lot like him at all but I still asked if he'd met Angelie Jolie - he hasn't. I told him I'd stopped answering her calls (all in very bad French) and he started to look at me like I was a psycho so I thought I'd better get onto his speciality - local history. He was very knowledgable on this topic and as we drove up the Cenis pass told us about the houses that lined the route. Apparently Napolean had them built and housed them with peasants to keep the road clear of snow during winter. The road is closed during the cold months these days but 200 years ago it was open all year round so Napolean could march his army into Italy if he felt like it (I knew that before him when he was my age). And everyone goes on about how much we have progressed since then.

Going our separate ways at the base of the Col du Galibier

As he was telling his story in French and Andrea was helping with translations I was casting anxious looks behind as the motor home following us looked to be manourvering slightly erratically. It was a dangerous trip, first up a steep mountain pass then along a very bad road above a lake with a huge vertical drop off into the water. The passengers later confessed to having their seat belts off and an escape strategy planned in case of an emergency.  

We all arrived safely although the motor home had suffered some damage - the side door no longer shuts very well, there is a large gouge down most of one side and huge chunks of plastic trimming are missing. In fact Sarkozy has forced through an emergency law and those Napoleonic houses are being repopulated to clear the Cenis pass of debris from motor homes. After a coffee from the local farmer Gilbert explained that the valley leading to the Col de Clapier has been fought over by French and Italians for ages and only since World War II has it been safe to inhabit. Hence the roads are still pretty awful and it has a very isolated feel, especially walking in fog and darkness at 9pm trying to find the way out - but that comes a little later...  

Just as John and Luca were recovering from their harrowing journey they also had to deal with a cold rain that had started to fall and it seemed like the whole thing might be aborted. I was secretly hoping it might be so I could walkie talkie back to base "Murdock...Murdock...I'm coming to get you" (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bwlQ0qJxaGo). Apparently it is pretty difficult to film in rain and the descent to Italy is very steep and dangerous in the wet. We pressed on though and soon the rain stopped and we even had a little sunshine at times.   

We filmed lots, I rode little bits of the way and we steadily made our way up the narrowing valley to the pass. There is a huge lake and pasture just below the highest point and its thought that it was here that Hanibal camped to wait for stragglers. There wasn't any snow about on the ground but the valley is flanked by huge mountains which had plenty and Gilbert reckons by the end of the month there will be one, perhaps 2 metres of snow on the ground. There also wasn't much of a view to Italy unfortunately - lots of cloud and a few peaks and the descent was certainly very steep. And once the cold and the fog had set in, darkness had fallen and lightening started flashing all around it was a very surreal descent. Very difficult without any light and any moment you felt the zombie movie was about to start. At one point we lost John and with brain power dulling I matter of factly assumed the Predator had decided to pick us off one by one. But he was waiting a little further on - John I mean. Towards the end the stars started to shine through - I'd not seen such good stars since the Australian desert and our driver once again show-cased their driving skills by getting the hire car bogged whilst kindly trying to manouvre it into the best position for us to see its lights. Mercifully our Director Fiona had prepared a life saving pasta which unfortunately Gilbert couldn't eat. Apparently he can't eat for 2 hours after exercise - he did drink about 10 beers in about as many minutes so I was a bit confused about his affliction (mine's worse). But my French is very bad so perhaps I just completely misunderstood what was going on?  

The view of Italy

It had been an epic day for everyone, riding, hiking, pushing and struggling with the bike and camera equipment up and down the rocky valley but it was about to get even more epic. We dropped Gilbert back in Lanslebourg at around 10pm but we needed to get back to where Sam and Danny where staying in Briancon. This meant taking a tunnel that goes through the mountain we had just walked over. When we arrived half of it was closed for roadworks so traffic could only go in one direction - we waited an hour for our turn to use it. Then the toll road in Italy was closed and they had incomprehensible signs to Montgenevre - incomprehesible to Luca even and he is Italian. Anyway a 1.5 hour journey turned into nearly 5 and Luca drove the lot - an amazing feat of endurance after the mammoth hike. After nearly running over a huge reindeer Luca tried to get me with the fall asleep trick - a very good trick if you are driving with nervous passengers. First say how tired you are, perhaps say it twice - just make sure you keep saying it until it registers - often your passenger will offer to drive - this is good - refuse obviously. Then leave it for about 10 minutes, perhaps fiddle with your collar, blink your eyes hard, stretch your face a little - anything that makes it seem you are struggling to stay awake. Then Luca added an excellent twist here - he moved over in his seat so I couldn't see his eyes in the rear vision mirror - a commendable variation for increased panic causing effect. Then when your passengers are keenly noting how alert you are nod your head and quickly snap it up as if you have fallen asleep. The reactions are guaranteed to be excellent. I wasn't taken in this time as I noticed a little smile as Luca moved over in his seat but for that little slip it was a 10 out of 10 performance.

We have found the perfect town for wood Brothers headquarters - its called Les Rambeaux:
http://maps.google.com/maps?f=q&source=s_q&hl=en&geocode=&q=les+rambeaux,+france&sll=37.0625,-95.677068&sspn=31.839416,79.013672&ie=UTF8&hq=&hnear=Les+Rambeaux,+38740+Le+P%C3%A9rier,+Is%C3%A8re,+Rh%C3%B4ne-Alpes,+France&t=h&z=16

The only problem was that after riding through the town we were all signing the lyrics to "Its a long road" - a song from the critically accaimed first instalment of the Rambo series: First Blood. I've pasted them here for your kind pleasure:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MQ_Zjo8XDsM&feature=related

It's a long road
When you're on your own
And it hurts when
They tear your dreams apart
And every new town
Just seems to bring you down
Trying to find peace of mind
Can break your heart
It's a real war
Right outside your
front door I tell ya
Out where they'll kill ya
You could use a friend

Where the road is
That's the place for me
Where I'm me in my own space
Where I'm free that's the place
I wanna be
'Cause the road is long yeah
Each step is only the beginning
No breaks just heartaches
Oh man is anybody winning
It's a long road
And it's hard as hell
Tell me what do you do
To survive
When they draw first blood
That's just the start of it
Day and night you gotta fight
To keep alive
It's a long road ...

Its a long road...

When you're on your own...

And it hurts when they tear your dreams apart...