Considering Rome is hemmed-in by the unbroken mountain chains that make up the Apeninne Range, it’s remarkable how the ancient Romans were able to conquer and then hold on to all their various dominions throughout Europe. Communications must have been difficult. It was hard enough for me, 2,000 years later, to get across the range without giving it up as a bad idea halfway through, and then the long ride across the Po Plain from Ferrara to Venice was a chore of a different kind -boring.
Not much to see by zooming-in, but go right ahead!
Saturday 10 September 2022. Senato to Montopoli |104 km|
[A warm 29°C with a steady head-wind, but I was in cruising mode so it didn’t matter (about the wind)].
Well I think this last piece of the Mediterranean I was cycling past this morning is still called the Italian Riviera di Levante, which is like the Gold Coast of Australia but without the high-rises, or the weather, or the golden sands – okay, nothing like it – except for some reason most of Europe flocks here in summer to pay to sit on the sand and maybe to have a swim, so same-same in that sense. Capitalism, eh.
But for me it was quite fascinating (you might have worked out by now I’m easily fascinated). The first 35 km were along the flat coast mainly on multi-use crowded bicycle paths, with wall-to-wall ‘Bagni’, (private commercial ‘baths’ ie. a few loungers and umbrellas) with hardly any access to the beach otherwise, and lots of kiddies on scooters to avoid running over.
Around Via Reggio there were about 8 kilometers of resort-style campgrounds (10 at least, though only 4 show on Google Maps – I guess they don’t pay google for advertising – all on the ‘wrong’ side (the non-sea side) of the coastal highway. I mean, what a rip-off if you’re a Dutch family coming for an Italian beach holiday. Maybe they like it, but I think you get the drift – avoid if you can.
And if that’s not all, the last 15 km into Pisa were an absolute bloody nightmare on the very busy E80 road with hardly any shoulder to ride on and maniacal Italian drivers to contend with. But I made it. Obviously.
Pisa itself, once you’re safely inside the walls of the old city, is very upmarket trendy and a delight to behold. The leaning tower is absolutely not a disappointment, though it is a bit teensy, and it’s made of a gleaming white marble that looks beautiful. Charm, the inner town of Pisa had. And in spades.
Having ticked-off the leaning tower, I didn’t dally too much longer in this mecca of western consumerism, and another (fairly ordinary) 35 km inland ensued to round out the day.
There weren’t too many campgrounds showing on my route on any of the apps that I had at my disposal so I stopped at a truck-stop eatery at 2.30 pm for a steak sanga to reconnnoitre (means ‘think about my next move’ but I just wanted to see if I remembered how to spell it. Probably not, but ‘spell correct’ is a marvelous thing. You’ll never know), the stopping-at of which is only note-worthy in that all-comers (except me) partook of a family-size (750 ml) bottle of Moretti beer while having their burger or whatever. I declined the offer and had a lemonade instead, which they thought was rather strange.
I guess drink-driving laws in Italy are more relaxed than in my own country because that would never happen where I live. The burger-wraps were terrific, by the way. It just goes to show that Russian Polish Romanian Bulgarian East European immigrants of whatever stripe can do quite well for themselves in ‘Western Europe’, for that is what they were. Good on them, and thank you for your service.
After all that mental stimulation, I just let things ride, and continued on. Riding.
I just now had to google Toscana Holiday Village, to even remember where I stayed. I know it cost me €19 because I wrote it down, but it was nothing like the photos on their website, that much I can remember. Ah yes, now I sort of kind of do remember, looking at my own photos. I got lost (mentally, not in actuality), saw a sign for camping and googled it in. It rained and I was wet. I set up tent, the sun came out and I had a swim, I bought some meagre provisions from the camp store. It rained again and I crawled inside my tent. Went to sleep. Yeah, it’s all coming back to me now.
And for some reason unknown to neither man nor beast, I took a picture of this along the way:
It’s a nice-enough picture I suppose, but why I didn’t capture the lovely Moretti-dispensing couple in their lunch cart earlier in the day, is beyond me.
This below is Tuscany, and it’s not my métier. Why do they go on about it? I found it quite boring, at least compared to all the hype one reads about Tuscany, and there was a lot of it.
I didnt get lost but my GPS mistook this bridal path through the olive grove for a thoroughfare, and to be fair I suppose it was too, because I did emerge from the other end in basically the place I needed to be.
It was a whole lot steeper than that picture above indicates; maybe I was just too shit-scared to get of my bike and take a photo in the hairy bits.
Sunday 11 September 2022. Montopoli to Monte Di Fo’ |103 km|
I passed through Florence in the morning and thought it was a bit ugly compared to Pisa. There were maddening throngs of tourists jostling for camera-space; most of the important buildings seemed to be undergoing renovation anyway, and so were not at all photogenic.
Three big climbs today really chewed up the batteries, and that includes a 1 hour charge worth at a bodega in Barberino di Mugella on the way.
The Apennines are a series of parallel mountain ranges running north-south up the spine of Italy, and I was crossing them diagonally from the SW to the NE. Today’s effort only got me over the first range. 2 or 3 to go. But I only made it another 17 km after that charge-up, all of it uphill, and the bike only had 9 km of range left in it when I spotted Camping Il Sergente . It was actually the waltz music from the old folks’ Sunday afternoon dance at the pub next door that first got my attention, as the ‘Il Sergente’ sign was hidden coming from my direction.
The son of the owner checked me in – €12 for the night, including power – and it was actually a pretty good place. It’s up the sides of a gully off the main road and my pitch was on the highest tier, so a bit of climb to and from all the facilities and the happening-type places like the bar and the dancing and their rustic country-style eatery, where I did have an excellent meal.
Monday 12 September 2022. Monte Di Fo’ to Ferrara |123 km|
Another scam averted! The owner’s son who checked me in at Camping Il Sergente last night opened up a tab for me, at his own suggestion, when I said I’d be having a couple of beers and dinner in their restaurant later. But this morning his father, who was checking me out, presented a bit of paper to me with a ridiculous figure on it. I queried it strenuously and in his attempt at itemising it for me put down that the pitch was €36. I’m sure he knew very well it was only €12. After some discussion, in which I implied that my TripAdvisor star rating might not be very high, and why, he conferred with his son who confirmed €12, but it was all a charade. You could tell he was just trying it on. He even dropped an extra €10 off the bill by way of apology. You’ve got to watch ’em!
There was a long 30 km of arduous climbing from Monte Di Fo’ along the Apeninnes to start the day, and then a long 40 km downhill spin onto the Po Plain and the city of Bologna. I didn’t stop – it was too early in the day, and Bologna didn’t excite – so I took a few snaps and kept right on moving. It was all flat and boring for another 45 km into Ferrara through intensive market-garden territory the whole way.
There were no campgrounds on offer near Ferrara so I stayed in a hotel called B&B Hotel Ferrara that is right opposite a large shopping mall where the main attraction is HYPER COOP. This is just about the biggest supermarket I’ve ever seen in my life and it was quite convenient too, as I was able to get all my snacks and proper food provisions there.
Tuesday 13 September 2022. Ferrara to Venice |125 km|
The first 25 km today out from Ferrara along the Po River Dyke cycleway were good, then the next 50 km on quiet country lanes through mostly small-acre market gardening communities were okay too, but the last 40 km into Venice on the busy SS309/ E55 highway were absolutely horrendous. The HGV truck count along here was about 1 every 15 seconds in both directions, and with virtually no shoulder or escape verge for most of it, it was a very scarey place to be to cycling.
I had no trouble finding a campground in Venice. This was Camping Venezia Village which really is a big self-contained holidaymaker’s village well located not far from the causeway over to Venice Island. It was quite full, mainly with campervans from just about every country in Europe (I did a quick walk-round rego checklater on, and found everyone from Finland to Spain, and Ireland to Turkey and all countries in between), and fortunately there was still a few spaces left to pitch a tent. Just as well I arrived into camp earlier than usual, about 3.30pm, because it quickly filled up completely by about 5pm.
There were already a few cyclists setting up when I got there, including right next to me Christophe from the former East Germany, though most of the other ‘tenters’ came in their cars. Right opposite we had Peter and Ina in the car category, and who became the social hub of our little circle of travellers. It was thoroughly enjoyable yarning around their little camp table throughout the long warm evening, though hoardes of biting mosquitoes came out at sunset for the first time this trip. I’d tossed out my roll-on Aeroguard mozzie repellant way back in Lyon, but Christophe supplied us with his slap-on German equivalent. He was particularly susceptible to being annoyed by them, we all noticed. I think he thought each one of them was going to infect him with malaria.
In the next post, I’ll describe my day in Venice.
– ends –
Day 64: Europe in 2022 so far: 6,179 km in 57 days of cycling
Nights in hotels 28
Night on ferry 1
Night in B&B 1
Nights in tent 34
Bike maintenance: nothing new this blog
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- Rohloff oil change (Toulouse): km 0 (20,505 km on bike)
- Repairs to rear kickstand (Toulouse)
- 12 punctures:
- 2 punctures rear (Toulouse to Agde): km 250
- 4 punctures front (Toulouse to Agde): km 300
- 2 punctures rear (Hull to Birtley): km 2,730
- 4 punctures rear (Alnwick to Berwick): km 2,940
- 4 punctures rear (Sorges): km 5,016
- 1 puncture rear (Les Arcs): km 5,268
- 2 new tubes (Montelimar) km 780
- Two new Ortlieb Front Roller panniers (€140 Koblenz): km 1,870
- 2 sets new brake pads (£8 Boston): km 2,710
- Rear pannier rack broken; temp fix with cable ties (Bamburgh):km 3, 020
- 2 new tubes (Scremerston, UK): km 3,050
- 1 new tyre (Scremerston, UK) km 2,030
- New Gates CDX Carbon Belt (€87 Lyon): km 5,045. (25, 550 total for the belt)
- New Goretex rain jacket (€220 Lyon)
- 1 new tyre, Schwalbe Racing Ralph, (€62, incl. tubes, Cavaillon) km 5,167
- 2 new tubes Cavaillon km 5,167
- Refit rear tyre due to kangaroo-ing effect (Nice) km 5,426
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