Introduction
Italy
I fell a few times off the bike during my journey. Not the falls you ask where am I? Or when your hands or legs' say goodbye to some good skin. They were easy falls, even comic ones.
One of these falls occurred near River Po, in Emilia Romagna, when I was approaching Piacenza. It was a lonely dirt road in a lowland with flooded fields from the recent rainstorms. The muddy road was partially under water. I was pushing the bike and could not see the rock or something that made me stumble and fall. At that point, mud puddles were rather deep. My first thought was to save the phone in my back pocket and my belongings. When I could get up, I looked like a rugby player after getting a mud bath.
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| By David Squires (The Guardian, detail) |
When arriving in Piacenza I was covered with thick and sticky dirt from head to toe. At an automatic laundry a customer told me, laughing, "La vista sulla strada, il cuore nei pedali". He had been a road cyclist until he had an accident at home. We talked about bicycles and he left me alone to take care of my messy clothes.
Italians love bikes. As far as I advanced into Ligure and Piedmont I saw more and more bicycles in towns and villages, and also on the roads. Since 1909, "Il Giro d'Italia" is a national event. Held in springtime every year, Il Giro attracts tens of thousands of Italians to support their racers.
So many bikes, each one with a story. I am eager to learn all these stories.
Day 34: Nice (France) - Ospedaletti (Italy)
A liberating ride off Nice and on the French Riviera. I ride up to the Col d'Èze (9 km, 507 m altitude), famous for the cycling exploits of the Paris-Nice cycling race. After a wonderful descent, come in succession La Turbine, the heights of Monaco, Roquebrune, and Menton, the last village on the French side.
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| Col d'Èze |
On the border control I feel more than happy. Already in Italy! I can't believe it. I try to take a photo but the French guard before the crossing is not so happy and tells me to move on. I continue riding on the beautiful coastal road. Ventimiglia, Vallecrosia, Madonna della Routa and my final destination today, Ospedaletti.
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| In Ospedaletti with Aleks |
I am received by my host, Aleks, in her wonderful refuge high in Ospedaletti: a beautiful small place with a breath-taking view of the sea. Everything invites to hanging out. We chat with Aleks and her boyfriend Francesco. She is from Poland and works as a services manager for deluxe yachts. Very wealthy families that hire a private cruise of the Mediterranean. She is taking the advantage to spend an extended period in this astounding place. Francesco works for the city government. A young and very fine couple.
Aleks cooks couscous with chicken, which she serves with professional expertise. We chat until late in the beautiful night.
Day 35: Ospedaletti - Albenga
Breakfast (in fact a full brunch) with sedated rhythm on Aleks' terrace. I start but I forget the headphones and very kind Aleks drives down to get it to me. I ride on the amazing seaside bike trail "Pista Ciclabile Sanremo - Inizio lato Ponente": thirty-one kilometers of beautiful views of the sea. It is Sunday, and many families, children and aged people enjoy riding on this fine marine weather.
After Sanremo the bike trail is less frequented. In Imperia, I spend some time watching a rugby match while having a snack. The trail becomes an easy road with light traffic. I arrive in Albenga, where I pitch the tent at Roma Camping. The woman in charge of the reception lends me a small table and a chair. I write and then go to see the nearby beach.
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| Camping in Albenga |
Camping life. Many caravans and motorhomes are parking here. I am the only one with a tent and I improvise an anthropological study of campground rituals. My subjects are a lonely man having drinks in the restaurant while his wife watches TV outside. The boys playing and their father reading and asking them to be quiet. Two German ladies taking the dog for a walk on the beach. A couple carefully washing the dishes, then the bicycles, then the caravan, then the dishes again. Some time later they watch TV in silence.
I get into my new sleeping bag that I procured in Nice. I sleep soundly. In my dream I am cycling a long ascent that never ends. I look down and I cannot see anything because it is clouded. Up on a hill there is a house and someone is gesturing towards me to get in. I don't trust this person and I keep going up the ascending road. I go faster. A furious dog comes barking and I try to scare him. I am far more frightened than the dog.
Day 36: Albenga - Savona
Very nice highway with few vehicles and great views of the sea. The short distance allows me to make various breaks. On a linguistic mood I try to learn some phrases: "Cerco una camera per una persona, una notte domani", "Quanto costa?", "Mi dispiace: é tropo per me". It works on the phone and people understand my accent. But everything is full or it is very expensive. I stay in a bungalow at the camp site Charly. Dirty and very expensive (45 euros). If it rains tomorrow I will have to look elsewhere.
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| San Remo cycleway |
Days 37-38: Rain in Savona
9-10 April
I move from the camp site to Allogio Cristina hostel in the city center. The bedroom is quite nice, with a shared bathroom. I put Alhamra in the bedroom so "we" are all together (bike, saddlebags and myself, without forgetting Lady G and Mister Hu).
I spend a lot of time researching in the Internet the best way to cross the Apennines. I am not sure if the mountain passes are good for cycling. I also make plans to visit the city: Ceramic Museum and Archaeological Museum. I buy new occhiali, because the old sunglasses are broken. I still have a soar throat.
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| Old Town Savona |
I call Brandon for his birthday. I remember my mum whose birthday was also today. Karim, an Egyptian cook who lives in the Allogio, invites me to coffee. He is from Cairo and works only in the summer season. Very nice person, a lovely soul. He is so happy to have someone to speak to that he also invites me to lunch with his Iraqi friend Ahmed. It is great to share my few words in Arabic with them.
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| With Karim and Ahmed |
I buy my new sunglasses in a bike shop. The employee says good bye and add, Buona pedalatta!. I visit the Sandro Pertini Museum, which houses a wonderful art collection from the former Italian President. Also, the Archaeological Museum is quite interesting, with exhibitions from the Bronze Age to the Renaissance, including some pieces of the Nazari period made in Granada.
Day 39: Savona - Novi Ligure
I have an early coffee with Karim (indeed, he doesn't allow me to pay for it). The farewell is rather emotive. I think he is crying.
The mountain crossing to reach the northern Italian plains is not so difficult as I feared. Five hundred meters rise during nineteen kilometers up to Colle del Giovo, rather easy in spite of the headwind and cold weather. The traffic is a bit heavy but not dangerous as it was in south-east France. Down to the valley, and I start up a new ascent of 400 meters on nine kilometers until to another pass, Colle Bric Berton. It is the border between Liguria and Piedmont. Now I ride on a forest road without vehicles and with plenty of amazing old trees. The sun is shining. The topography changes, as well as the vegetation and the architecture of the scarce houses and buildings. Piedmont reminds me of the Swiss Jura.
I try to pitch the tent in Ovada. Only caravans are allowed. I resume my cycling and arrive at Novi Ligure, not the traditional nice Italian city of the north but a massive maze of buildings. The camp site is closed. I have to pay a fortune for the hotel bedroom (60 euros).
Italy, at least this part of the country, is quite pricey compared to France and Spain. This leg of my trip, together with Greece, is the most expensive one for my total budget. I always find insufficient (and somewhat irrational) the economists' explanations for higher cost of living: labour costs, high demand for certain products, housing shortages. I think that in expensive places such as Northern Italy, Switzerland or Ireland, the main factor is usually associated with a small number of companies charging high prices without fear of competition.
I pay the hotel fare and enjoy a cheap bread-cum-sardines dinner plus an apple in the bedroom.
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| A chapel near Colle Bric Berton |
Day 40: Novi Ligure - San Giorgio Piacentino
I am now in the heart of the Po Valley. The Pianura Padana, together with the flatlands of Veneto and Friuli, is the largest unbroken plain in Southern Europe. Sometimes it reminds me of the Pampas in South America.
The Po Valley is also considered the worst area in Europe for air quality. Perhaps as a compensation for this, there is an important network of cycling paths and numerous bike-friendly minor roads. From a tour cyclist perspective, this large region offers the attractive possibility of advancing at high speeds over long distances with reasonable security.
I leave Novi Ligure enjoying a great springtime weather and riding through bright vineyards. The fine rural highways become solitary narrow lanes, which later connect with dirt roads through beautiful fields near river Po.
Suddenly, when it is already too late to return, the roads become muddy. I advance carefully but then I have to push the bike. Then comes my epic fall and I still find mud during kilometers. There is somebody looking from an isolated house. I tell him, "Sono caduto nel fango..." He laughs. I can't see his face because the sun is on his back. I ask where we are and without a word he shows me a sign reading, "Via Cantacucco". Unexpectedly, the cuckoo sings. I look at the man but he is not there anymore. While the cuckoo keeps singing, I continue on the muddy road that ends on a small river, which I have to cross through a low ford.
My aspect is quite awful when I arrive in Piacenza. There is plenty of time to arrive to my host's house. I ask directions for an automatic laundry. I find it after some time. The only client is leaving and I am alone now. I block the entrance with the bike, I take off my dirty clothes and shoes and put them in the washing machine. I finish dressing up with the spare clothes and remove the bike to free the door just in time when a new client is coming in. She looks at me suspiciously. After a while, I gather my belongings and cover the thirteen-kilometer distance to San Giorgio Piacentino. I call my host, Elena, and she gives me more directions to arrive to her house.
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| Enjoying Elena's and Paola's hospitality |
The house turns out to be the former hunting lodge of Castello di Paderna, an elegant ten-century old fortified castle with an entrance tower, donjon, inner bailey and water moat. Elena and her mother Paola give me the best of the Italian welcomes and show me to a most comfortable bedroom. Elena is a successful young engineer working with the Argentine-Italian multinational company Techint, the world's largest manufacturer of seamless steel tubes for the oil industry.
Paola prepares a lavish dinner (pasta, chicken with onions) and then we play music and improvise some tunes with Elena, who is a good pianist. I feel at home with this very nice mother and daughter.
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| Castello di Paderna |
Day 41: From castle to palazzo (San Giorgio Piacentino - Isola Dovarese)
After a generous breakfast and a visit to the castle, I leave Elena and her mother and start a delightful cycling day. Lady G takes me through quiet back roads connecting with a section of the wonderful cycleway along the Po river ("Ciclovia del Po", also called "Destra Po") , which is the longest in Italy (125 km). No mud today...
In Cremona I stop at a bike shop. There is some noise when I'm riding on the maximum speed. The mechanic in charge makes some adjustments on the gears. I also add a few drops of lube to the chain.
Thirty kilometers on the way and I arrive at Isola Dovarese, a pleasant small town with a large piazza, the imposing San Nicolò church and Palazzo Quaranta, the only place where I can find a bedroom (the camp site is reserved for caravans, not tent-pitching is allowed). This hotel is a pretentious mansion with large halls and an imposing dining room. My bedroom is larger than a paddle court and profusely decorated with classic motives. I sleep in a giant bed looking at the putti painted on the ceiling. I ask them when I will be able to pitch my tent, but they are busy playing and ignore me.
Day 42: From palazzo to tent (Isola Dovarese - Verona)
I leave the Palazzo after the piccola (and sumptuous) colazione. I feel uneasy in this ostentatious palace, with its bourgeois atmosphere and the obsequious attitude of the staff. I admit though that breakfast is amazing.
Quiet country roads lead to small towns such as Asola, Piubega and Ceresara. I speak to a resident in the latter village. He is proud of the local cherries, ciliegie. Later on, I encounter a Pakistani farm worker who is pushing a bike on the road. He speaks no English and only a few words in Italian. I ask him if he needs help and he replies "Mohammed". I show his bicycle and he says "five children". I say goodbye and he starts reciting the names of his five children with a big smile. I cannot forget his smile telling me about the family at home.
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| Mantova-Peschiera cycleway |
At a junction I take another cycleway, now along River Mincio, which divides Lombardy from Veneto regions. It is a delightful view of the river surrounded by a great forest. I am almost alone, but not for a long time. Today is Sunday and, arriving at Chiosco dei Mulini, there are dozens of cyclists and hikers. From there, I ride on an increasingly crowded Ciclovia Mantova-Peschiera up to Vallegio sul Mincio, where I see myself blocked by traffic jams and hundreds of visitors walking and cycling. They came to participate in one of this week's events of "Vinitaly" large wine exhibition in Verona and nearby cities.
I am not drinking alcohol and I feel out of place here. Some kilometers later, I stop in a nice vineyard to have a short nap. After that, I see the farmer working with some immigrant hands, and I ask him if I can pitch my tent here. He tells me that if the police sees the tent both of us will be fined. But there are camp sites in Verona. I call the first one and they tell me that the price to pitch the tent is 38 euros. Then I discover Verona Village campground, where I stay for 17 euros with my tent.
It is a very nice place, clean and almost new. As usual, I am the only one with a tent. All the others are in caravans and motor homes. I feel good here, much better than in the Palazzo. I write. I meditate. I learn by heart a few more names of Allah. I decide not going into Verona, which I have already visited in the past. I read Estelle's writing in my notebook: "L'invitation au voyage" by Charles Baudelaire: "Là tout n'est qu'ordre et beauté, / Luxe, calme et volupté ... / Ton moindre désir / Qu'ils viennent du bout du monde. / Les soleils couchants / revêtent les champs / les canaux, la ville entière / d'hyacinte et d'or. / Le monde s'endort / dans une chaude lumière" (Les fleurs du mal, 1857).
I think about my friends. I like them all. The old and the new ones. Like Raymond Carver, I would like to fill a big boat with my friends sailing around the world. Elena, Andrea, Lera, Aleks the other Elena. Juan, Paco, Enrique, Pierre-Yves, Lily and Clém, Julio, Richard, Xavier, Jeff, Philippe, Pedro, Alfredo and so many others. All my friends, I feel they are here with me sharing this adventure. Estelle, indeed my best friend. She is always with me, not matter how far I am.
New rainstorms are announced by the weather report. I have an early dinner and get into the tent. I sleep soundly.
Day 43: Verona - Padua
Breakfast in the small camp site restaurant. I pass Verona and some hours later I am submerged on a heavy-traffic highway that crosses San Martino Buonalbergo and Caldiero (those powerful toponyms filling the whole mouth!). In San Bonifacio I start riding on a quiet strada provinciale and then on a lonely cycleway again. The path goes up through two hilling areas of 700 meters of ascents. I make a break on a col and then the road is vertiginously going downwards. It is very hot today and the sun starts burning.
I arrive safe at Padua and find without major problems Cosmin and Claudia's house. When I am near their house I ask a neighbour for directions. He confirms that I am on the right street and asks smiling, "Are you staying at Cosmin's?". "Do you know him?". "Of course, everybody knows them here!". It is so good to be known for being a generous host welcoming travelers.
This is a real Couchsurfing couple. They met during one of the sporadic hangouts organized by network members in Padua (or Padova, as they locals say). They seldom are without guests at home. Combined, Cosmin and Claudia have hosted 30 surfers from 21 countries. A nice custom, every guest farewell is recorded with a polaroid photo and some words on it. The photos are all hanging on a board like family pictures.
I stay some time chatting with Cosmin until he goes to work (he is an optical fiber technician). Claudia arrives later. What a wonderful people I am meeting in this journey!
Day 44: Should I stay or should I go? I should stay but I go! (Padua - Lancenigo)
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| Botanical Gardens, Padua |
I visit Padua's Orto Botanico, the world's first botanical garden according to the UNESCO World Heritage Foundation. It has been created in 1545 and "it still preserves its original layout -- a circular central plot, symbolizing the world, surrounded by a ring of water". It is a great place to observe the differences between botanical families from around the world. It reminds me when I was a young student spending long hours at the botanical garden of University of Buenos Aires.
I am sitting on the shadow of a huge plane tree in the arboretum. I receive a message from another host accepting my request for today. I change my mind and decide to go on to the next town, Catena, near Treviso, north of Venice. The weather is fine and I think it will continue like that. I go back to Cosmin and Claudia's and told them that I am leaving now. She takes the customary polaroid photo, we say goodbye and off I ride with my team: Alhamra the bike, Lady Garmin the GPS and Mister Hu the phone, plus saddlebags, etc. These are my companions. They are loyal friends, and they do everything possible so we can end each day successfully, or at least without a catastrophe.
But today is a special day. Ensues a natural wonder.
After leaving Padua, the Via Muson runs alongside a canal. I cover the twenty-two kilometers of this section with fairly good weather. But half an hour later the strong wind and a thunderstorm furiously reach my position. It is clear that the rain will come after me. Another cyclist yells at me in the wind, but I only understand "... rifugio ... pericoloso!", and he disappears. The storm is imminent.
After Camposampiero I join the Treviso-Ostiglia cycleway, surrounded by agricultural fields and trees. The first drops start falling. I am alone on the bikeway and try to speed up to seek protection somewhere. The downpour is just beginning. Thunders and lightings strike almost without intervals. Large puddles grow on the flooded path. I don't have time to put my gaiters on. The rain becomes hail. Some ice stones are as big as my fist and they sound like timbales on my helmet. I am completely soaked and it is time to stop and take shelter. But where?
Beside the path there is a low wooden shrine protecting an image of the Virgin Mary. I stay there, crouched down against the Madonna. There is almost no room for both of us. I wait until it stops raining, I thank the Virgin for sharing her place and resume my ride. Water floods everywhere. I arrive at an airport. It is very windy now and I am freezing. In Treviso I find a kebab shop and stay there for some time to get warmer. Then I continue up to Lancenigo and from there to Catena. Nico, my host, did not arrive from working yet. I wait in a bar drinking two marvelous hot chocolates.
When Nico arrives we go to his apartment and I take the badly needed hot shower. We go early to bed. I can't forget the Madonna in the low shrine.
Day 45: Bad weather in Catena
17 April
It is so good to be at Nico's place in bad weather. First, he is a very generous host who invites me to stay during the rainstorm and leaves the house to myself when he goes to work. Second, he introduces his friends Giovanni and Andrea, serious gravel cyclists with whom I have a great forty-kilometer ride in the surroundings of Treviso (including a bite of the amazing tramezzini sandwiches). And finally because I have great chats with Nico when he is back.
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| Fellow bike riders Andrea and Giovanni |
Nico works in the police department and has been trained to work with dogs assisting in law enforcement. He is enthusiastic with his job. He is honest, he knows to listen and to open his heart. We stay late engaged in a great conversation.
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| Nico |
Day 46: Catena - Udine
It is cold today, but the sky is clear and it is not raining. I start early in case the rain comes back. I take the busy highway to Maserada (lots of trucks). After the town, I cross the two branches of Piave river, which begins in the Alps and flows into the Adriatic Sea near Venezia. This is an area loaded with history. During World War I, it witnessed a failed major attack of the Austro-Hungarian armies on the Italian forces. It was a decisive battle on the Italian front with 200,000 casualties on both sides.
I pass through towns such as Vazzola, Codogné and Brughera, already in the Friuli region. It's like images in a swift movie. Then I cross River Tagliamento. It starts raining when I am near Codroipo and I take refuge at the huge Villa Manin. In the eighteen century, this palace has been the private residence of the last Doge of Venice, Ludovico Manin, and now it is a museum and the venue for concerts and events. The semicircular design of the imposing sweeping exedra is an architectural reference to Saint Peter's Square in the Vatican City, which can be seen as a metaphor of the rivalries between the powerful Venetian Republic and the Catholic Church. Waiting for the rain to stop I want to buy a ticket to visit the museum. I also ask for a place to park the bicycle. A rather nasty guard or usher tells me to leave the premises with my bike. I do leave.
It stops raining and I arrive safe at Udine. This city is the farthest point I reach to the north of my itinerary, more or less at the same latitude than Geneva. From now on, my direction will be predominantly south to Croatia and Montenegro and then south-east and east to Albania, North Macedonia, Greece and Turkey.
Claudiu is waiting for me because he is going to work. Another very nice and generous host who is always receiving travelers at home. He explains where is my bedroom and then I take a shower and rest. In the evening I go to have a pizza. I receive a confirmation to a next Couchsurfing host in Trieste. This is an incredible chain of awesome people hosting me one after the other in so many places.
I feel I'm not alone. All these smiling friends who are interested on unknown travelers' lives and needs. They support my journey and are a great motivation to go ahead. I am so happy to include them among my friends.
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| At Claudiu's house in Udine |
Day 47: Udine - Trieste
Quick breakfast with Claudiu speaking about his job in the lodging business. I prepare my equipment and start a bit later through rural roads.
The flat topography of the Po Valley is now definitively left behind. The nearby Carnic Alps to the north and the hills descending from the Slovenian Karst Plateau add salt and pepper to my cycling, including a 600-meter total climb and equivalent descent to Trieste.
Lady G dodges the heavy rush hour traffic and finds new routes, sometimes unpaved. Up to River Soča I ride on a agricultural land. I make a break on a small public park near Monfalcone. The air is cold but now the sun is finally rising over the clouds. I follow the breath-taking seaside highway. I can't help but stopping many times and seating to look at the Adriatic Sea, which here takes dramatic overtones.
I arrive at my new host apartment in Trieste. Christiana is an extraordinary woman with a passion for traveling. She is of my age, and she visited more than seventy countries, according to her Couchsurfing profile page. I know that means that she actually paid extended visits to those places. "I know people who say that they visited Italy because they stopped at Milan's airport for a connection flight. For me visiting a country means really understanding its people, the food, the culture", she tells me. From her profile I learn that she has "seen a lot of nice things and places and scenery in these years. My mind is full of pictures, sounds and smells. I will never forget the peaceful moment sitting just on the top of Nemrut Dagi in Turkey. It was also great my experience traveling around India by motorbike and many other moments just snorkeling in paradise."
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| With Christiana in Trieste |
To celebrate her sixtieth birthday Christiana embarked on a great adventure: she rode on her own all the way to China on motorbike. On her way back she suffered a serious accident and almost lost her leg. Couchsurfing friends helped and she was repatriated to Italy and could thus save her leg, even if now she walks with a limp. At the time of writing, she has 101 confirmed and positive references in her account, including 47 from guests and 56 from hosts.
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| Trieste's seafront |
Thanks to Christiana I have a good flavour of Trieste. What a wonderful city! I remember the stories I read about wars and competitive trade with Venice and Ragusa (Dubrovnik), as well as the protracted domination by the Habsburg empire. The successive waves of Ottomans, Serbian traders, and French and Austrian armies. The approximately 4,000 Jews and partisans murdered by the German troops during World War II. The efforts of different powers to put a hand on Trieste as part of Cold War tensions. I also think on Sigmund Freud in the 1860s dissecting 400 eels to determine their sex at Trieste Zoological Station, and on James Joyce in the 1900s teaching English here at Berlitz school. Trieste is a true mix of cultures.
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| On the way up to Trieste Cathedral |
We walk on the glorious seafront, the Piazza Unità d'Italia, the harbour and the old city. We try a "Capo in B spumato", a typical Triestinian coffee. Then I take the lift to Castello di San Giusto. In the evening I invite Christina to dinner in a small restaurant where they serve an outstanding cod fish. I feel that she is an old friend but I only met her this morning.
I feel so well that I do not even realize I have already cycled over three thousand kilometers.
