Vespa Roma26: The journey | PART 1

Scooterists are an adventurous lot, whether we’re riding to far-off coastal towns for a weekend of fun or further afield, we try to push the boundaries of what our small-capacity machines are capable of.

Usually the scooters can cope, or be fixed along the way, but sometimes the human mindset is the weak point. Martyn Peacock from the Northamptonshire Vespa & Lambretta Scooter Club takes up the story of their club ride to Rome for Vespa Roma ’26.

Push your boundaries

After group club trips to Wales, the Wild Atlantic Way in Ireland, Normandy and Scotland’s North Coast 500 for eight years on the bounce, some wise spark suggested we push the boat out and conquer the Alps and the Dolomites.

Originally we were looking at 2025, but with other tours, the congested rally scene and a club wedding, the great European adventure got put onto the back burner. But when Vespa announced that their 80^th Birthday celebrations were to be held in Rome at the end of June 2026, that was our cue to go for it…

Proper preparation prevents piss poor performance

The Autumn nights of ’25 were spent researching sights, finding the best roads & plotting a route with suitable hotel stops along the way. A 16-day draft plan was put out, based around a return Channel Tunnel crossing with 15 hotel nights for just short of £1k per person. Our route would be averaging between 200 & 250 miles a day, taking in Switzerland, The Stelvio Pass, Lake Garda on the way to Rome and via The Dolomites, Austria and the Black Forest on our return.

The uptake of a dozen people was the perfect-sized group, eight Northamptonshire Vespa & Lambretta Scooter Club riders, a lady named Lynn from The Wirral who’d picked up on the post from our Facebook page and gotten in touch, plus three riders’ wives who didn’t want to miss out on the road trip, who were happy to navigate and drive the support van.

Countless late nights were spent checking out and planning non-motorway routes which avoided no-go areas – the French Crit’Air low-emission zone cities & the hundreds of ZTL (Zona a Traffico Limitato) spots dotted around Italy. No need for a Swiss Motorway Vignette sticker for us as we were sticking to the mountain passes and smaller trunk roads.

Tighten your nuts!

We set off at the ungodly hour of 5.30 am on Saturday 20^th June and surprisingly nobody was late to the meet point. A buzz of excitement and adrenaline was in the air as the day had finally arrived. Nine riders (2 GTS’ & 7 traditional 2-stroke Vespas) and three of the WAG’s were doing the ‘back-up’ van which completed our party of 12.

At the first opportunity the banter started, Trevor had organised some printed magnetic signs for each side of the van and these were duly applied – cartoons figures of the three girls with “The Piaggio Sisters, scooter support vehicle… We’ll tighten your nuts – apply within” and by all accounts the girls had a countless number of beep-beeps from astute drivers down the M1, around the M25 and all along the M20 to Folkestone!

All aboard Le Shuttle

Normal service ensued at Folkestone: long queues, a free-for-all funnelling into passport control and a long wait in the midday sun for boarding. I mention no names, but the wait provided ample time for one of the GTS riders to sort out their faulty rear light & rear indicators – our first episode of the trip of some roadside maintenance.

Once on the train, it soon rattled along and popped up in Calais. We’d chosen the Ibis at St-Omer for our starting (and the last) hotel of our trip; at only 30 miles inland, it offered us an ideal base from and to the Channel Tunnel terminal. After securing the scooters, dumping the bags and a quick shower, we popped out for food “Mange tout, mange tout” and a drink. St-Omer is a lovely, picturesque town and on a Saturday evening was very vibrant – “Bonnet de douche!”

Feeling Hot Hot Hot

The next two days were mainly about getting through France and into the Swiss Alps, where the scenery and roads would move up a few notches and the adventure could truly begin. It was Sunday morning, and the sun was blazing; we set off on a day’s ride of 250 miles to Joinville. This riding on the right-hand side of the road malarky was a doddle, provided you concentrated.

Mentioning no names again, we had a slight hold-up as the aforementioned GTS developed a petrol leak, something to do with filling up with fuel to a higher level than the level of the filler cap on an auxiliary tank, causing it to overflow. Spanners out, auxiliary tank isolated, and we were on our way, sweating in the 39°C heat, but we pressed on at a steady 50mph in one-hour shifts.

Junior Kickstart?

All was well until we took a detour around Reims and its Crit’Air zone; the route we took led us to a road closure, and the sat-nav rerouted us through a vineyard and down a single-track lane. After about a mile, that turned into a single-track lane with grass growing down the centre and then turned into a dusty track for about two miles before it degenerated into what can only be described as an off-road motocross track with loose stones and boulders?!? Off-roading was not really on our agenda. It crossed our minds that this could be leading us to a dead end, forcing us to turn around and backtrack about five miles, but alas, eventually the track led us to a T-junction with a tarmac road, and we all laughed about it later over a pint!

The sun had been intense all day and in full riding gear we were sweltering. By mid-afternoon this was taking its toll on a couple of the riders who were suffering with excessive sweating, muscle cramps and heavy thirsts – symptoms of heatstroke. It was tough going, really tough – like I’d never experienced before and a relief to find a bit of shade for a break and rehydration before plodding along the final stint to the accommodation for our night in Joinville.

Day 3 – The Alps are in sight

We left the Champagne Region, heading south-east towards Switzerland. Another day’s riding in 38°C searing heat, and the scooters surpassed themselves with no issues, whilst one or two riders broke down through heat exhaustion. After plenty of drinks breaks, we made it to the Swiss Border just after lunchtime. No passport control or border checks, just a little signpost on a bridge depicting the Swiss National Emblem and suddenly all the place names changed from romantic names containing nasal vowels into harsher phonetic names using plenty of K’s, Z’s and umlauts!

We soon circumnavigated Bern and picked up the Route 6 twisty road to Interlaken. After another day of exceptionally tough riding, the mountain peaks were in our sights. Cruising along the winding road, the views were jaw-dropping – this is what we’d come for!

Sunny beach

Riding past Lake Thunersee, we noticed that hundreds were taking advantage of the scorching weather; its beaches were crammed with locals in bathing attire, many of them frolicking in the water. Had we not been within 15 minutes of a nice cool shower in our hotel, then we could have quite easily joined the locals for a wild swim.

Accommodation in Interlaken was at the very grand Central Continental Hotel, which included the bonus of secure underground parking. We popped out for evening meals, which, as you’d expect in Switzerland, were a bit pricey, coming in at the equivalent of £60 for a main course and a couple of beers.

Man Down!

We’d had three days of relentless heat touching 40°C and the long-term forecast predicted much of the same for the next nine days. We were gutted to learn that a couple of redheads in the group decided to throw in the towel before they melted any further from home. Paul & his Mrs, Corinne, had been especially struggling with the heat and the gruelling daily schedule.

Given that there was not going to be any let-up in the torrid heat for at least the next week, the couple, rather unselfishly, decided not to hold the group up with any potential health problems moving forward. After a productive chat to discuss their options of possibly having some rest days and meeting back up with us on our return north, they were just desperate to get out of the heat. By all accounts it was likely to get hotter the further south we travelled and especially in Rome, so, sadly, they decided to take a two-up, steady daily bimble back to Calais over the next few days.

Shipping out

We took down the NVLSC flag that had been draped across a balcony at the hotel, packed up and shipped out, leaving Paul & Corinne to a lazy day in Interlaken after they’d booked a 2^nd night at the Central Continental.

With the group now down to ten of us, six 2-strokes, 2 GTS’s and two girls in the back-up van, we set off for the first big mountain passes of the trip, the Grimsel & the Furka passes. As we gained altitude, the 2-strokes started to struggle with over-fuelling due to the lack of air, but a quick stop to remove carb top lids quickly remedied this issue, allowing more air into the venturis.

Goldfinger

The roads in Switzerland are impeccably maintained; we were loving the steep mountain switchbacks that rewarded you with postcard-perfect views in all directions.

I could write a whole feature on the different passes another time, but for now I’ll try to keep it brief. A drinks break ensued at the top of The Grimsel and The Furka lent itself to obligatory photo stops at the iconic Belvedere Hotel and James Bond Strasse – the section of road featured in Goldfinger.

After refuelling at Andermatt, we took on the Oberalppass and sat at the top for lunch with yet more stunning views.

Tunnels of love

Another outstanding feature of the Swiss trunk road network is the tunnels. If they can’t put a road over a mountain, then they don’t mess about. They go straight through a mountain; sometimes they’re a few kilometres long, and these provide superb acoustics for a crackling 2-stroke engine. The cold air whistling through these marvels of engineering provided a nice respite to the intense temperature. Each tunnel is lined inside along both edges, the centre of the carriageway and along the roof with cats-eyes & marker lights and thus gives you a sense of being inside some sort of massive life-sized 3D video game!

Albula Pass

Our last mountain pass of the day is lesser known but was equally as impressive; the Albula Pass rises to 2312m and, unbelievably, towards the top traverses under a railway viaduct. With sweeping curves, narrow cliff sections, and stone bridges, the Albula Pass is right up there with the best  for one of the most atmospheric and architecturally refined roads in the Swiss Alps. Upon its descent, it was a pleasant 12 miles up route 27 to Zernez, our destination for the night.

We’d made good time on Day 4; after a wash and brush-up, we had a relaxed dinner al-fresco at the hotel. Afterwards, the host was happy to find us the England FIFA World Cup game on satellite TV and keep the bar open until the final whistle – Happy days!

Ain’t no mountain high enough

The morning of Day 5 was spent with a bit more playtime in the form of the legendary Stelvio Pass and its 77 hairpin bends. The Stelvio needs no introduction, but for those unaware, it links South Tirol to Bormio in Northern Italy over an elevation of 2757m. To put that into perspective, that’s more than twice the height of Ben Nevis, Britain’s highest mountain.

It was another scorching day, and we’d spent far too much time messing about on Stelvio with photos, videos & sticker bombing at Stilfserjoch. It was great to get talking to other groups, mainly bikers, but time was pressing on, and it was 2 pm before we eventually descended down into Bormio. With another pass, ‘The Gavia ’, ahead of us on our route and another 130 miles still remaining on our day’s ride down to Lake Garda, it was evident that we were in for a late finish.

Lake Garda

Progress was slow across the Gavia Pass, then another pass, ‘The Passo del Tonale ’, and then across the Province of Trento. The epic scenery, the views, and to have come away with the experience from this awesome 11-hour day of riding certainly made the effort worthwhile. We sat watching the sun go down, having dinner next to Lake Garda, pinched ourselves to check that this was really happening and recharged the batteries for another day.

Planes, Trains & Motor Scooters

We woke up the next morning refreshed, picked at a continental breakfast and got our photos of the Gordone Riviera. Although we’d had a full day of riding in Italy behind us already, we were still 400 miles north of Rome. It was head down, full throttle most of the day from Lombardy straight through to Tuscany, a 200-mile dash to make Pontedera by 4 pm for our pre-booked visit to the Piaggio Museum.

Booby prize?

Our progress was only hampered briefly when the aforementioned GTS developed an ignition fault. A quick diagnosis couldn’t identify the problem, and as we were racing against the clock, the general consensus was that it should go straight into the van. This worked out pretty well for a poorly Lynn (PX200 rider from the Wirral), who was feeling the effects of yesterday’s 11-hour ride and today’s searing 40°C heat. She had a bit of respite in the air-conditioned van for the rest of the day, whilst Paul the GTS rider completed the day on her PX200 geared Vespa – you can only imagine the ridicule and ribbing that ensued. “Touché!”

Scooter spotting

The Museo Piaggio is housed inside part of the original Piaggio factory site, which dates back to the 1920s. A wonderfully restored factory workshop houses over 100 fine examples of original, famous, custom and prototype Vespas. There are also sections devoted to the Ape range, Piaggio’s sister companies, racing, history, and design, including a huge archive. Other examples of Piaggio’s work with trains and planes are on display in the museum’s forecourt. Well worth a visit if you have a chance; allow a couple of hours for a thorough look around.

A pleasant evening stroll around the Old Town in Pontedera was in order, where drinks and al-fresco dining capped off another scorching day.

Day 7 – All roads lead to Rome

Paul had been working early morning on his GTS, finding a dry joint on his stator plate that needed to be re-soldered; hey presto, the GTS lived again! We set off on a beeline 202-mile dash towards Rome. Once again the weather was ‘El Scorchio’ and the vents in our jackets remained unzipped.

Good progress was made until Grosseto… when a certain GTS decided it didn’t like its exhaust and parted company with it at 60mph on a dual carriageway section of the SS1. Riders behind it split like Moses parting the Red Sea, as the bouncing box pirouetted amongst them before spinning off to rest in the grass verge. Unfortunately, it was an extremely busy section of road with no hard shoulder or safe place to pull over, so the battered & dented exhaust lay dormant in its final resting place.

Tree bar

In preparation for our mammoth journey, the 2-stroke riders had crammed the back-up van with copious amounts of spare parts, which thus far had remained untouched. However, the GTS riders neglected to add anything other than a spare rear wheel for their ‘ultra-reliable’ machines. Needless to say, it was a loud ride for anybody sat behind Paul and his GTS for the run into Rome and indeed the next few days.

With the temperature peaking at 40°C, we checked into our weekend’s accommodation on the outskirts of Rome and were gutted to learn that we’d missed the hotel’s swimming pool opening hours by 10 minutes. So, it was a cold shower, shave and an hour to relax in the air-conditioned rooms before heading off in a couple of taxis for a pre-arranged VCB meet-up with fellow Brits at The Treebar.

In part 2, we show you the amazing spectacle that was Vespa Roma 26…