Fairweather is all about living life to the fullest, embracing and following dreams. Fairweather’s mission is to take you to the place of those dreams with unique stories on art, film, fashion, design, travel, business, philanthropy and politics.
Issue link: https://fairweathermagazine.epubxp.com/i/144159
Below: Lupe Castro knows how to make living out of a pannier look glamorous. O ff to Spain'S BaSque country, where i fell in lust with the gorgeous multi-coloured espadrilles. the beautiful, self-confdent local señoritas wear them to dance, so not only were they a cultural purchase but they would also look fab with waterless levi's jeans. at €9, they were a bargain. "and where do you intend on putting them?" asked mr. p. of to fnd a post ofce so my precious new loves will be safely waiting for me at home. moving on from my beloved spain, we spent a wet and miserable couple of days freezing ourselves silly on the timmelsjoch pass before we reached the italian sunshine in the spa town of merano for some serious tlC. there is nothing quite like a totally indulgent pampering session after some serious 44 | SUMMER 2013 | FAIRWEATHER riding and i was feeling totally disheveled and in need of beauty conditioning. now all i needed to fully feel like myself again…some serious italian style retail therapy. milan here i come baby! luckily the maison moschino hotel where we were staying stands at the start of the Corso garibaldi, fabulously part of the aperitivo set! mirian and faustus—a cool biker couple we met on the way—showed us their milan on foot and took us to a local cantina to eat risotto milanese. mirian has ridden solo through south america and strangely i found myself in awe of her tough yet uber-sexy biker chick persona—what was happening to me? my stint of biker chick envy was quickly reversed in pietrasanta where daytime sunbathing and midnight shopping had me regressing to my fashion set roots. the beautiful people in this catwalk of a town have the formula just right with fab vintage shops where perma-tanned residents sip prosecco into the night. never had the Beast's pannier felt so grim! retail therapy out of the way and it was time for a mind, body and soul break for us and our trusty steed at the six-night iyengar yoga retreat in a monastery in Camerino. Cofee and wine were replaced by "ommm'' and vegetarian cuisine. Bidding europe farewell via germany, we visited biking mecca by way of BmW's headquarters and museum (for mr. p) and alexa schwab's fabulous vintage boutique (for me) before heading to the warmer climes of the middle east. after another brief fashback into my inner fashionista, pre-tough biker chick lifestyle at the armani hotel in dubai (where we sipped champagne at sundown in the uber glamtastic atmosphere lounge on Courtesy of lupe Castro (3). previous spread: left, pierre lemond photography; right, Courtesy of lupe Castro. above: Lupe Castro's motorcycle accessories. starts with a stint of retail therapy in the french capital of all things haute couture is fne by me! so, having ransacked the Beast's pannier for an outft that in some way resembled paris-worthy elegance and sophistication, i had managed to kid myself into feeling like the leading lady in a crimson pout-flled fashion fairytale, as i strolled down the Champs elysee, "café" in one hand and a long list of must-visit boutiques in the other. top of the pops was the gloriously retro "fripes et vintage'' treasure trove that is goldymama—a place where all preconceived ideas of musty second hand tatter fies out the window. here, that unwanted moth was replaced by resplendent butterfies of divinely colourful designer delights. i indulged my inner disco diva by trying on a feather-trimmed turquoise fapper dress before being brought back to reality with a thud as mr. p knocked on the window, shattering my dream but reminding me it was high time for "vin rouge et petit plateau de fromage'' to fll his empty stomach! speaking of which, after riding on to rambouillet, mr. p and i discovered our diverse tastes in the pleasures of gastronomy. While he, a self-proclaimed foodie, clapped his hands like a small boy at the thought of queuing up for fresh baguette in a traditional boulangerie, i, still reeling from paris, thought the whole thing smacked a bit too much of marie antoinette: "let them eat cake."