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Day 16: Stilfserjoch / Passo di Stelvio (2.757m) - Bórmio - Passo di Gávia (2.621 m)- Ponte di Legno - Passo di Tonale (1.884 m) - Ossana 90 km
It is unpleasantly cold but the storm is finally over. A radiant blue sky stretches above me
and a pristine white world below me. In between the sun climbs over the mountains and
plunges the snow carpet in a warm orange glow. I can see the hairpins below that
I have cycled up last evening. I do not enjoy the view for long. It is icy cold up
here and there is a breeze that seem like cutting razor edges to my skin. I return
to my hotel and decide to rest there for an hour and after that I will wake up again
and have my breakfast. At half past 8 I have finished breakfast. I pack my bike and try again
how the conditions are. It is still freezing but it is at least ten degrees warmer,
within about half an hour it will thaw. I begin the descent to Bórmio. I descend
carefully, sometimes I need to manouvre around an ice passage and a single brief
passage is completely unpassable on my bike. I have to walk over the ice before I am able to
continue. Pulling the brakes on such icy passages could prove a hazardous job. It does not take
a long time before I arrive in the thaw zone. I can relax now and enjoy the white mountains around
me. The scenery is not as high-Alpine as the other side of the pass but it is
no less impressive here. The views are breathtaking. The last kilometers of the
descent the snow is no longer around me and I am cycling through pine forests now. All
around me razor sharp rocky pinnacles tower above myhead. The Stelvio is certainly
one of the greatest cols of Europe.
I reach Bórmio, a village at 1200 meters altitude, in the middle between the Stelvio
and the equally promising Gávia. It is the first real Italian city I reach - the
villages and towns of South Tirol are by atmosphere much more than Austria Italy.
It has been nice and warmed up the Italian ladies are dressed in a summery Italian
day. Incredible to think that I am an hour ago by Snow
previously cycled. This is a part of the charm of traveling by bicycle: the changes are fast and
The experience is intense in all senses. The first espresso in Italy like good,
I can now mentally preparing for the climb to start the Gávia.
Over 1400 altimeters separating me from the top. This is indeed the long climb
but not as long as the Stelvio yesterday. I walk a bit with the bike on the basis
through the town and begin the climb.
The start of the climb is all very similar, to the west loom impressive
on rock walls. In particular, the full rock wall of the snow 3859 meters high Königsspitze
impresses. The climb is not steep. Vut from Santa Caterina on, half the distance to
the pass, I am indeed tested seriously. The climb appears very irregular and the road quality
is significantly less than the snow qulality of the Stelvio. The holes in the asphalt a
nd the many blobs on the road,combined withe the steepness of the climb, make the Gávia
one of the toughest climbs in Europe. On the one hand it could be annoying that I am struggling
to the top now but on the other hand a climb like the Gávia is supposed to be very difficult,
I like to believe in the mysticism of the climb. Well, that is how it turns out to be
and even better so later on, as I return to the snowy conditions. In the hours that
the sun is up, the snow line had moved upward considerably, I am just in time to enjoy the snows
once again. These are the best circumstances that I could possibly experience. And this
at one of the truly magnificent mountain passes of the Alps. In the end I reach the pass,
where I take rest for an hour.
When I start the descent, almost all the snow has melted away. The descent is steep
for my fully loaded bicycle, and I descend quietly on the narrow road. The descent is
more exciting than the much wider Stelvio. Sometimes the views are airy. Completely
out of nowhere a tunnel looms suddenly. I can not pull the brakes on time because
a car is riding just a few meters behind me - which is apparently the local use in Italy.
I am rushing with full speed into the tunnel. It appears to be completely unenlightened
and there is also a curve so that it is pitch dark here and I see nothing at all. I have to make
an emergency brake and fortunately I do not vrash against the tunnel wall. Slowly
my eyes become accustomed but there are other dangers: there are cars in the tunnel.
I have not prepared for a tunnel and my lights and reflective jacket are in my panniers.
I cannot do anything vut to go on. Fortunately the tunnel is short and I get out of the
dark threat safely. The rest of the descent is nice and I reach Ponte di Legno. I want to
cross yet another pass today: the 1884 meter high Passo di Tonale. This climb is not a
culmination of beauty and splendour after the greatness of the Stelvio and Gávia.
The road is wide and very busy. It is Sunday afternoon now and there are many people
who have thought that it might be a nice idea to drive across the Tonale
today. It is remarkably hot down here, maybe thirty degrees. What a contrasts today!
The climb passes the messy Tonale ski areas. The area could do well in a contest
of the least beautiful parts of the Alps. The descent is not much fun either but there
are some attractive villages and occasionally there are beautiful vistas to high
alpine peaks. Eventually I find a nice, typically Italian camping in Osanna.
Day 17: Ossana - Dimaro - Campo Carlo Magno (1.682 m) - Madonna di Campiglio - Pinzolo - Storo - Passo di Amporo (782 m) - Pieve di Ledro 115 km
Today I want to reach Lago di Ledro, a lake that is close to Lake Garda where friends of mine
are residing now. That is for sure one hundred kilometers cycling through the mountains
but it seems to be an achievable goal. The day begins with a descent to Dimaro. On
the way there are beautiful views of the 3769 meters high Cevedale, a small three
thousand meters above the valley. From Dimaro I am cycling southward and I climb to the
1682 meter high Passo Campo Carlo Magno. The climb is not very spectacular or aesthetic
as it ends up once again in ski areas. However, there are spectacular views of the
Brenta Massif. The descent to Pinzolo offers more beautiful views. Then the alpine
beauty is over. The mountains are much lower now. It is getting hotter and more
humid and the wind swells up to uncomfortable proportions. My inspiration descends to a
medium inspired level. There is another unpleasant surprise as the expexted long descent
is interrupted by a climb to a pass that I have not seen on the map. The adrenaline
level is below zero as I arrive in Storo after a few hours. I only have to climb to
the Passo di Amporo now. Unexpectedly the landscape is suddenly very beautiful again.
The road winds up between jagged rocks. The landscape is overwhelmingly green, even
on the steep cliffs the trees prove to survive reasonably well. I reach the pass
and I descend to the lovely lake. It takes more than one and a half hour to find
the apartment of my friends and I am very relieved as I finally meet my friends.
Day 19: Pieve di Ledro - Riva del Garda - Rovereto - Pian delle Fugazze (1.156 m) - Schio - Thiene - Bassano di Grappa 120 km
There are two route options from Pieve di Ledro to descend to Lake Garda. There is a
paved road and there is a mountain bike route. I decide to take the mountain bike route.
After a short time the trail reaches a spectacular section which is two to three hundred meters
vertically above the lake. The remainder of the route to Lake Garda follows the
vertical rock walls. Sometimes there is a tunnel passage but fairly all the way down
to Lake Garda the route lies straight above the lake. Eventually the trail ends down
in Riva del Garda, at the northernmost point of Lake Garda.
I would like to cycle in two days to Venice. Therefore I am heading eastwards. First I
cycle to Rovereto. From there I want to cross the mountains of Trentino to reach
Bassano di Grappa, in the area where the Po Valley gradually merge into the Alps.
But first Ihave to pass the obscure mountains of Trentino. The Alps are no longer very
high in these surroundings, the highest mountains are just above 2200 meter high.
The only pass that I have to cross is the Pian delle Fugazze, which is 1156 meters high.
At first glance that is not too impressive but the climb begins at a very low elevation
and it eventually ends after a long ascent with a net one thousand altimeters to
overcome. Because the ascent is not a continuousone bu a broken one with many small
climbs and descents, the gross number of altimeters must be a lot more.
It is hot and humid weather, which make the circumstances difficult. All in all, this is a climb
to rival the famous 'high' climbs in the Alps. The villages that I pass, are atmospheric
but they are almost devoid of people. The desolation is characteristic, this is really
adventurous cycling through a 'white spot' on the map. The landscape is very green and at
places very, very steep. In the area around the pass, there are giant pinnacles.
Most impressive however is the section on the other side of the pass - on the eastern side.
The Pasúbio is an erratic mountain range with spectacular rock peaks, a bit
like the Dolomites. But where the Dolomites stand solely as giant blocks in the landscape,
the cliffs of the Pasúbio mountain peaks dynamically merge into a steep, wooded slope that
falls down all the way until the valley level, many hundreds of feet below. The peaks are veiled by
monsoonlike clouds. All in all, I have got the impression of a tropical mountain range,
a mountain range which seems to be much higher than the actual height. The crossing
of the Trentino mountains end in Schio. I am finally in the Po Valley now. The magic
is there right off, since there are no quiet roads eastward, parallel to the Alps.
One problem is that I am suffering from a nasty nausea. I am afraid that the water taps
in the villages were not proper. The last kilometers I am really suffering. I feel that
I have to give up very soon. I stumble into the first hotel in Bassano di Grappa that I
can find. There is a sublime sunset in the beautiful town that lies under an otherworldly
glow. But I do not have an eye for it. I grab the hotel key from the hands of the perplexed
looking receptionist and take a sprint to my room where I reach the toilet just in time.
As everything is out, an acute fever pops up. Things do not seem to get better. I crawl
under the covers and I fall asleep, shivering and awfully cold.
Day 20: Bassano di Grappa - Castelfranco - Mirano - Fussina / Venice 73 km
Drenched in sweat I wake up. And... unexpectedly I am not feeling too bad. Although I
do not want to eat yet, I feel like cycling a bit. It is not too far to Venice and
the area between Bassano di Grappa and Venice is completely flat. I decide
to start, and I will see how it goes.
And so I am on my bicycle again today. I am riding through the villages and towns of
the Veneto provice. I wonder if the route to Venice would have charmed me, if I were fit.
But now that I am not, I do not dislike the flat landscape. The towns have very characteristic,
thin, mostly pink, church towers. The roads through the area are relatively quiet
and there are many places, where I can have a little rest and where I am able to
break the rhythm. All in all, the distance is covered relatively fast and at 12 o'clock
I stand before the Adriatic Sea at Fussina. Here is a huge camping, which is aimed at
visitors of Venice. I put my tent and take a shower. I am in time at the port and at
two o'clock I am on the ferry to Venice. The rest of the day I wander through the
alleyways and along the canals of the city that is named the "Giethoorn of the South"
by Frank van Rijn, after a Dutch smalltown with canals. Everybody seems to know Venice and
I was warned indiscrimately.
"You'll have to swim through the canals because it is too busy on the streets."
"A chicken farm." "Even busier than Old Delhi."
When I wander through the city, it proves to be completely deserted. Where are they,
the tourists? Nobody knows. The boatmen of the gondolas stand confused and the tables of
the cafes and restaurants are set for nothing. For nothing? Not that it is free.
Out of pity for all those unemployed cafe bosses, I have a little stay in one of the cafes
and afterwards a total of 3 Euros is included in the bill only to set the table. I hear
a story of two Japanese tourists who had a total bill of six thousand Euros, following
a dinner in Venice. For that money you are able to set the table two thousand times!
Day 21: Fussina - Mira - Stra- Padua - Arqua Petrarca - Monsélice - Ferrara 149 km
One day you cycle through the snows, another day you cycle through the stifling,
sticky heat of the Po Valley. I am riding right to the south now and I set course for
Tuscany. The Po Valley is like a casserole between the Alps and the Apennines (which
are the edges of the pan) and it is awfully hot in there. A sticky, moist wind faces
me and does not leave me the whole day. I find out that the casserole can also serve
as a sizzler. Steamed, fried and wrung I reach Ferrara after a long day without any
highlights. Ferrara is the first place with a campsite and I am glad that I am there
after nearly 150 kilometer. Fortunately, there are fellow cyclists at the camping, even a
cycling tour group, so that it is a very nice, social affair at the campsite.
Day 22: Ferrara - Mezzolana - San Lazzaro - Zena - Loiana - Passo della Raticosa (968 m) - Passo della Futa (903 m) - Monte di Fo 139 km
I wakeup, pack my stuff and cycle to the old town of Ferrara. I have a pleasant impression of the city.
The cathedral is full of atmosphere and the quiet streets downtown are enjoyable. What a
recurring problem seems to be, is finding the right route out of Italian cities.
The old cities are usually mazes of one-way streets and really nothing is ever
indicated. Once again I fail, this time I miss the right turn on the ring around the city, so
it is only after riding half the ringway as I recognize the supermarket near the camping.
Now that it is cloudy, I cannot orientate towards the sun. After cycling a few kilometers back ,
I see where I should have left the ring.
The wind has turned, and today there is a tailwind instead of a headwind. Moreover,
it has pretty cooled down. Not to mention that it is cold, but you cannot expect that
in August in Italy. The sun is still there and the scenery is not bad. I still find myself
in the Po Valley but I am quickly approaching the Apennines now. I push on through
the villages and the lands; I can see the Apennines now. I am missing Bologna by just
ten kilometers. I am passing through the suburbal town of San Lazzaro. This is not
exactly the most beautiful town in Italy, but here is the beginning of the climb on the
Apennines. I am following the narrow road to Zena. The hills around me are getting higher
and higher. The landscape around me looks like the Tuscan countryside with rolling hills, lanes,
cypresses, yellow fields of grain and once in a while a lonely house on a lonely
hilltop. The difference with Central Tuscany is that the hills are much higher here.
A steep climb brings me to the main road to the Passo della Raticosa. It turns out
that the road is busy with motor bikers. It is Sunday and it seems to be normal
that the Italian motorcyclists en masse follow this route. It is done with the rest
until I have crossed the pass. It is getting late and that is my luck now. The sun
is already low and shines a warm light on the mountains and valleys. The panoramas
are beautiful in the connection between the Passo della Raticosa and the Passo della Futa.
For this second pass I hardly need to climb. And I hardly need to descend. I find a
campsite within a few minutes after the pass, the so-called Monte di Fo. This shows a
nice, typically Italian family camping. No Dutch or any other foreigners abide here,
only a Dutch couple. The man has previously cycled here on a tour to Rome.
Day 23: Monte di Fo - Firenze - Impruneta - Grave in Chianti - Castellina in Chianti - Siena 118 km
I am having breakfast at the campsite. Under an early morning sun I am riding
down. The descent follows many small hilltops. Every one hundred meters the view
changes completely. Downstairs is a large lake, there are some new mountains looming up behind.
So after the long descent, new climbs await me. After forty minutes I have crossed the ridge
and I am descending again. This descent is just as beautiful as the previous. Far below me
lies the city of Firenze, behind Firenze are the hills of Chianti, one of the most famous areas
of Tuscany. After ten minutes I have descended all the way down and abruptly I am
standing face to face with the Duomo. I have already been in Firenze in my 2003 bicycle
journey and therefore I do not spend extended time periods to visit all the famous
churches. I am cycling through to the Arno River and on the other side of the river
I am cycling up into the hills of Chianti. On the way I pass a beautiful view point. Then I
eventually find myself in the hills of Chianti. It is quite hot; the temperature will be around
thirty-five degrees or more. Because the air is very dry, the heat is just bearable for
a heat-loving man like me. But I sweat like an otter on the many small climbs though.
The roads are sometimes viciously steep, all in all the going through this area is
easy to underestimate. The landscape is exactly what could be expected of Tuscan landscapes:
rolling hills, villages, church towers or houses on the hilltops and fields on the
flanks of the hills. Unlike other areas in the Tuscany countryside the vistas are often
dominated by a lot of vineyards. That is the reason for the vividly green landscapes.
On a beautiful hillside area I have lunch in a restaurant with a magnificent view
over the valley. I have never eaten truffles by now and I decide that I do not begrudge myself
this novelty. The Tuscan specialty is in my view somewhat overrated compared to
other mushrooms such as the ordinary mushroom. But I am hungry and empty a whole cup
of Parmesan cheese on the spaghetti and the truffles. The exquisite flavor of the truffle
is totally dissolved in the much stronger flavor of the parmesan cheese and I do not
bother at all. It gives me the right energy for the last hills that separate me
from the camping at Siena.
Day 24: Siena - Montenori - Asciano - Pienza - Montepulciano - Tuoro sul Trasimeno 124 km
Finding the right exit road out of a major Italian city: why does it have to be so difficult???
Why are there never ever any signs??? Siena lies on a hilltop and therefore a wrong
choice is very expensive. I have to find the right way because I have to cross the highway at the
one and only right place: there is a tunnel in the highway and a wrong choice means
that I have to return and that means climbing back into the town. Three times I try,
all three different ways bring me at exactly the same point at the highway where a long tunnel
is between me and the road that I want to follow. So three times I have to climb back
(plus the first time that I had to do anyway to reach the city). I am done with myself
and with all the Italians. In other countries I never get lost! That, at least, is what I tell myself.
But this time is worse than ever. Out of sheer desperation I decide to follow a wrong direction.
I wanted to ride into the Crete Senesi but now I am cycling to Montenori. From there I will try
to find a way into the Crete Senesi once more. When I am riding on the road from Montenori
to Asciano one hour later, I have reached the Crete Senesi whatsoever. This southern part
of Tuscany is much drier than, say, the Chianti region. Here the yellow tones dominate.
In fact, the whole landscape is yellow, except for the inevitable cypresses. It is
extraordinary panoramic. The landscape undulates endlessly. To the south the hills
tend to get higher and higher. The 1700 meter high volcanic cone of the Monte Amiata dominates the
view. A few dozen kilometers to the northeast the green chain of the Apennines rise.
As I continue to bike south, the view only gets wider. Beautiful towns are also there.
Pienza and Montepulciano have erned some fame but there also many unknown but beautiful
villages that are beautifully draped over the hills. For lovers of unstable autumnal weather,
the Crete Senesi will certainly disqualify. The hills of the Crete Senesi are dry, hot and
brimming with sunshine. It is clear that this part of Italy is one of the highlights
of the trip so far. There is a lot of climbing to do also. The rhythm is: climbing for
fifteen minutes, down to the valley in one minute and then climbing again. It is
a rhythm that you must like and you should certainly not consider the effectivity of the
efforts. Montepulciano is the highest point of today. Deep below me I can see a vast flat
area with in the middle of that area the Lago di Trasimeno, the biggest lake of Italy.
The last thirty kilometers to the lake are not so special but the day still brings a
highly rewarding finale as I join a few Dutch families who invite me to the barbecue.
There is also wine in abundance and it is a very cosy evening.
Day 25: Tuoro sul Trasimeno - Magione - Torgiano - Bevagna - Montefalco - Spoleto 113 km
The weather is hazy and I am not in a grandiose mood. There is not a great flow of energy
between me and my surroundings. The beautiful towns of Bevagna and Montefalco can not
really impress me, probably it is myself to blame; there is nothing really wrong here.
I reach the foot of the Apennines at the city of Spoleto. Spoleto is a beautiful city
and almost three hours I wander through the old town with my bicycle in my hand. After the visit,
the good mood is soon vanished as a signpost to the camping is put in a 180 degrees wrong
direction, so that I cycle almost ten kilometers in the wrong direction. The first
time that a direction is signposted in an Italian city, it is in the wrong direction!
And the worst part is, tomorrow I will have to ride back again to the city, with new
opportunities to miss the right turn and to get lost again.
Day 26: Spoleto - Forca di Cerro (747 m) - Valnerina - Cerreto di Spoleto - Preci - Forca d'Ancarano (1.008 m) - Nórcia - Pas (1.520 m) - Castellucio 101 km
Again I am desperately looking for the right way out of town for more than an hour, before
I finally find the correct exit road from Spoleto. I am only a few minutes on my way
and the scenery is very beautiful. I am riding on a quiet road with no traffic now. This is
the advantage of a road that no one can find: that there is no traffic. I climb a few
hundred meters on the quiet road to the Forca di Cerro. On the top, it shows that the back of
the pass is even more beautiful. I descend into the dark green Valnerina Valley, right in
the Apennines. Small villages are beautifully set against the mountains or tucked into an intimate corner
of the valley. The villages are very traditional, there are no modern buildings that hide away
the old houses of the village centers. In one village a beautiful young woman comes to me
and asks me how I like it here. 'Beautiful', I say, not knowing whether I make a compliment
to the landscape or to the woman who stands in front of me. 'Yes, it is very beautiful,'
she says. I am sure that she is talking about the landscape, not about me. A deep silence falls
between us. There is nothing much to say. It is indeed very beautiful here. Then she
shyly draws back and I am alone again in the impressive landscape of the Valnerina valley
in Umbria.
I cycle on to Cerreto di Spoleto and begin a new climb to the 1008 meter high
Forca d'Ancarano. I am surrounded by increasingly scenic villages as I am proceeding.
And I am surrounded by ever higher mountains as I am heading eastward. I am in the
Monti Sibillini National Park now. The mountains are all above the tree line and the
green valleys are lovely, with the occasional atmospheric farmhouse or an intimate village.
There is a natural beauty to everything here. After reaching the pass I descend to Nórcia,
a pleasant town in a broad valley between the high mountains of the Apennines. What a
beautiful sceneries in this part of Italy! I have yet one more climb to do, the longest
of the day. I must overcome a thousand meter altitude differnce to reach the pass at 1500
meters altitude, which divides me from Castelluccio. I make a tremendous mistake by
forgetting to tap water in Nórcia. I unfortunately find out only after climbing a few
kilometer. I decide that I do not want to go back; in case of emergency I can always hold a car
to ask for water. It appears unnecessary. By quietly cycling up, my limited water supplies
reach out and just before the pass, there appears to be a cafe where I can refill my bottles
again. I reach the pass and I ride into perhaps the most beautiful landscape of Italy.
The plateau of the Gran Piano stretches before my eyes with the mountains of the Monti
Sibillini at the background. The Gran Piano is as flat as a billiard cloth, without trees,
but with beautiful fields of flowers. The Monti Sibillini is a wild and wonderful, bare mountain
chain. On a lonely hill in the plain lies the intensely atmospheric village of Castelluccio,
draped over the hilltop. I visited this place with Willem Hoffmans in our journey in 2003.
But also for the second time this landscape does not fail to impress. I book a hotel in Castelluccio
and the rest of the afternoon I enjoy the views.
Day 27: Castellucio - Forca di Presta (1.536 m) - Arquata del Tronto - Amatrice - Campotosto - Passo delle Capannelle (1.299 m) - Antrodoco - Rieti 156 km
One more time I cross the Gran Piano and I begin the short climb to the Forca di Presta.
One more time I have those great views back to the Gran Piano. I reach the pass and begin the long way down.
I descend into the province of the Marche and I reach the town Arquata del Tronto. Looking back I see
the white chalk cliffs of the Monti Sibillini as a giant wall towering above me. But
that landscape is left behind now. I am in the green valleys east of the Apennines now.
But I have not passed the high Apennines for good. I am riding on to Amatrice now.
And not far south of Amatrice the Abruzzi start. And in the Abruzzi the highest mountains
of the Apennines can be found. Therefore it is not surprising that after Amatrice a long
climb awaits me. Without reaching a pass the road goes up a long time but suddenly
the road drops again. I reach the first villages but it is very quiet. As I am passing
the villages I do not see any people at all. This part of Italy seems to be very sparsely populated.
I reach a big lake, where a sign says that the way that I intended to follow, is closed now.
This means problems. The road on the other side of the lake means a big detour. I want to ask
to a villager whether it is possible to follow the closed road but there is nobody in sight
in the village. The silence of this area feels very unpleasant. I dare not follow the
closed road and so I decide to take the detour. There are views over the lake to the
Gran Sasso d'Italia, with nearly three thousand meters high the highest mountain in the
Apennines. I reach the largest village in the area. There are only a few people to be seen
in the village. This is not normal. It strikes me that nearly almost all houses are for sale.
I wonder what it is, that is going on in this area. It seems as if an earthquake has taken
place here! Finally a bell rings inside my head. I find myself in the earthquake area of
L'Aquila! The affected area is apparently much bigger than I expected. At home I had
planned to cycle with a broad arc around the earthquake zone, but apparantly the arc
is not wide enough! The problem is that I cannot go back any more. That is at least
fifty kilometers back through this dreary region. So I continue and soon I see the first
tent camps. In the most beautiful part of the lake there are dozens of campers. According
to Berlusconi these people should take it as a nice holiday. But this does not look like vacation at all.
I do not feel good to be here, as a traveler between all those people who have lost their homes
and maybe even friends or relatives. I see that most people do not look too friendly
and I cannot blame them. I am feeling embarrassed. Whatsoever, there is no alternative
but to go on. So I climb to the 1299 meter high Passo delle Capannelle to follow the road
to the east, away from the earthquake zone to the area surrounding the Gran Sasso d'Italia.
It is four o'clock as I reach the pass. To my horror I see that the road to the east is closed.
Desperately I am looking at my map to find solutions. In any case the solution will not be
to find an overnight stay in this area. All hotels are for sale and I surely do not feel like going
to a tent camp and ask for a night shelter for a weary traveler on a bike. So the only option
I see, is to descend to the valley of the Aterno, the valley of L'Aquila, and subsequently
follow the busy road from L'Aquila to Rieti. That means I still have secenty kilometers to go!
Quite a disappointment as it is already 4 o'clock in the afternoon! It is the cold hard truth.
I descend into the valley of the Aterno and I see L'Aquila less than ten kilometer away from me.
Everywhere around me are tent camps. I pass a few new apartments, where a lot of people have
gathered. And a lot of press and police. It appears one of the first newly built complexes
for the victims. The atmosphere is very emotional. Of course there are many people who have to wait
years to obtain a house. In any case this is the news of the day, the news reports about nothing
else really. I continue as I have got a long way to go. I have switched off the enjoy mode
and switched on the time trial mode. I am going for it and at eight o'clock I reach Rieti.
I have rode seventy kilometers in the wrong direction to get away from the earthquake zone, but I
managed to do it and I can finally have a little rest.
Day 28: Rieti - Fiumata - Pace - Leofreni - Pietrasecca - Tagliacozzo - Capistrello - Canistro - Sora 168 km
What now? I have completely gone astray from the planned route and I am condemned
to at least three hundred kilometers of mountainous areas without many facilities.
Only afyter three hundred or more kilometers I will be able to find campsites easily
in the area of Naples. Before it will even be difficult to find a hotel. Moreover,
the risk of closed roads due to the earthquake will remain. The first twenty kilometers
I do not have a map to ride on, my plan was a route east of cycling the earthquake zone,
while I am west of the area now. Therefore I do not have a map of this area. The plan is
to first return on the map and subsequently head straight southward. Like Icarus, I must
try to find the right balance. I must ensure that I do not bend too far to the east, then
I will return to the earthquake area. But I must also ensure that I not bend too far to the
west, then I will return in the mapless area. So I cycle a little back on the busy road to
L'Aquila again until I find myself on the map again. The first road to the south on the map
I leave the highway. So I am climbing on a narrow road in the mountains once again. After a while
I reach a big lake, the Lago del Salto, surrounded by green mountains. Despite the beauty
of the landscape there are no tourists here. It is too far away from the major European
population centers. Maybe the landscape is not special enough for tourism. Anyway, the
facilities are not there. I follow the road twenty kilometers more and then I climb into the
mountains on a very narrow road. I have arrived in extremely remote areas now. In the villages
the watchdogs go chasing me. Some watchdogs are extremely aggressive, it looks like South America
here. In a road fork I want to take the right fork but the watchdog would not let me.
I dare not confront this dog and so I am forced to settle for the presumably wrong way.
After half an hour climbing I find out that I am very lucky: the presumably wrong way turns out
to be the correct way. Not much later, I reach the pass. I find myself several hundred meters
above the surrounding landscape. A kilometers long descent follows. Down below I find out
that I have descended too far. At the last intersection I had to take an obscure branch
that I have obviously missed. This branch had to bring me in Pietrasecca but I went straight
down and now I have descended almost ten kilometers too far. I feel like a wog, as I will
have to climb a useless hour over a busy, wide road until I am in Pietrasecca. Once arrived there,
I have one more hour climbing to go over the big, busy road to Avezzano.
A long descent brings me Tagliacozzo, I swap the broad road to Avezzano for the much smaller
way to Capistrello. Capistrello lies against a spectacular steep mountainside with
many colored houses, a fascinating sight. Unfortunately I do take the wrong exit road
and I descend two hundred meters on a wrong way. I do not want to cycle back, but that means that I do
have a few hundred extra altitude meters to climb. After the detour I succeed to find the right pathway
and I reach the road through the Val Roveto to Sora.
I find myself in the high Apennines now, on the left is the National Park of Abruzzo
National Park and on the right there are the Monti Simbruini. It is in this area where
I hope to find a place to stay for tonight. If there is one opportunity to find a campsite
on the way to Naples, it must be here. And I am lucky: there is indeed a campsite
indicated. I follow a small way that goes up steeply. After half an hour climbing, there
is still no sign of life and I begin to fear that something is wrong. I pass a house
with people in the garden and I aks whether this is the right road to the camping. Yes, I am
on the right track, I hear. I am on the right track, but the campsite is closed. But the solution
is simple. Get down and climb up on the other side of the valley, as there is a campsite
on the other side of the valley too. I hardly succeed to subdue my inner aggression, things
like this do nonly happen in Italy, and far too many times. Going down is easy and I am
already busy climbing on the other side of the valley. This route leads through several
villages. Despite, the road is terribly bad. And the road is deteriorating with every stretching
meter. The villagers look at me with pity, some people are laughing at me. I feel that
they are making fun of me. I feel that the people know that I am cycling a lost cause.
But this is Italy and it seems very unusual to help each other. In fact I already knew
and after an one hour of incrediby steep climbing, I stand in front of a closed campsite.
My head almost explodes with rage. I blame the Italians and Berlusconi in particular,
the man who I personally hold responsible for a population that has been held stupid for the
last fifteen years, the man who systematically withdrew the Italian people from any relevant
education, any relevant information, the man who silenced the press and skilfully
dismantled the legal system. And have I mentioned fifteen years of corruption? I am done.
But I am not ready with the cycling day. After having cycled 140 kilometer through
the mountains, it is half past seven in the evening, it does not take more than an
hour until the night falls and I still have to cycle thirty kilometers to the provincial
town of Sora, the first place where I can certainly find a place to spend the night.
I put all my aggression in cycling as fast as I can. I need to reach Sora. In one hour
I have thirty kilometers covered and meanwhile I have lost my aggressive feelings. In
Sora a motorcyclist helps me to find a nice bed and breakfast. And that works out
extremely well. I also find an excellent restaurant where I am totally pampered.
So in the end evrything is all right. But idt did not come easily. Hundred eighty-six kilometers
through the mountains of Abruzzo, that is a bit too much for one day.
Day 29: Sora - Broccostella - Casalvieri - Roccasecca - Aquino - Pontecorvo - Sant Apollinare - Sessa Aurunca - Carinola - Villa Literno - Qualiano - Pozzuoli 169 km
The song remains the same. I take the wrong exit road from Sora again. This time there are no
consequences. I quickly find the right way and I am on my way to Casalvieri. Over many narrow
pathways I reach the little town, where a rough road leads through a rugged, sparsele vegetated,
ravine to Roccasecca. I have passed the Apennines now. Before me lies a broad plain.
Some twenty kilometers behind the plains there is one more ridge of hills and behind thiose hills:
the sea! I cycle into the plains, to the village of Aquino. Here the famous thirteenth-century
theologian / philosopher Thomas of Aquino has lived, best known of the five scientific proofs,
although they are almost unanimously rejected in the scientific world. The current population of Aquino
does not follow the example of their famous mystical ancestor in a radical rejection of the
temporal and a holy devotion to the eternal. Indeed, the atmosphere is one of a superficial
indifference. The women of Aquino seem to devote their lives like many Italian women to
beauty, shoes and jewelry. The men of Aquino to speed - whether on a motorcycle or a car - or just
hanging around. The people of Aquino differ from their Italian brothers and sisters.
In the afternoon I descend from Sessa Aurunca into the coastal plain near Naples, in the
buffalo mozzarella area. But what the h#$% is going on here? I always believed that
anarchy could only exist as a most mental abstraction, but here anarchy really exist as a
physical reality. In the past, several groups have planned to create a state of anarchy
which is essentially an impossibility. I always assumed that any attempt to create anarchy
would die in this paradox: people always tend to make plans, even when trying to create anarchy.
But I was wrong. This part of Italy succeeds to maintain a state of all-encompassing
anarchy, without planning, without intention, completely spontaneously. Anarchy without motive,
straight chaos. My first impression: it is noisy, it is ugly and it smells horrible. It is
one big filthy pigsty. The rubbish is laid down in two or three meter high ridges of refuse bags
along the long road. The traffic is essentially antisocial to a level that is beyond egoism.
Antisocial just to be antisocial: the kick of irresponsibility. The road is two lanes wide
only and one lane is filled with parked cars. Traffic lights and priority rules are obviously
not taken into account. It is the survival of the rudest. That is 1) trucks 2) BMWs 3) other cars
4) scooters 5) me and 6) pedestrians. It is tiring to cycle here. Anyone can simply insert
on the road at any time out of the row of parked cars. First do, then look. That is how it
works here. Every time a door can swing open when I pass along. It is one big orchestra of horns.
Everywhere people quarrel, performing a drama of emotional gestures. It appears to be
surprisingly easy for me to adapt to the new situation. After a few minutes I see muself raising
my arms to the heavens as a BMW unjustly takes priority or performs an irresponsible trick in
the traffic. The smell of the waste is unbearable. When the waste was not collected in Palermo,
Berlusconi once said that the city had "the atmosphere of an African city". But I think that we
must put it the other way around now. That, in case of delays in the local garbage collection
in - say - Nairobi, we can say: "Urgh, it smells like an Italian city."
Day 30: Pozzuoli - Napoli - Capri - Sorrento 25 km
After three extremely long and exhausting days, I feel like having a rest day. I will cycle the five
kilometers to Naples and take the boat to Capri. I will spend the day on Capri and subsequently I will
take the ferry to Sorrento and find a camping there. I am on my way early in the morning;
it is Sunday and before the Neapolitans are awake, I have crossed the city and I am on the
ferry to Capri. Naples lies beautifully on a wide bay. The hills are dotted with colored houses.
The view is highlighted with the Vesuvius, an active volcano.
Capri is an island with mountains sometimes straight from the sea. In a small bay lies
the town of Marina Grande. The village is extremely touristy of course. Italians would
not be Italians, if the prices were not three times as high as in mainland Italy. I want
to cycle the island and I am climbing on the narrow road to the town of Capri. Once there,
I walk with the bike in my hand on the busy main street of the village. I hear a police whistle
and a moment later again. I do no pay attention and I am walking along until someone taps me
on my shoulder. A man points to a policeman who comes running to me.
"He is coming for you", he says and leaves the scene. The cop squeezes through the crowd
and stands opposed to me. Big moustache, insensitive eyes. He plays an authoritarian expression.
"It is forbidden to all traffic, security."
"O."
"You are not allowed to go here."
"But I'm a pedestrian", I explain, "I just walk my bike with my hand through the streets."
"That is forbidden!"
"O." I am still not impressed. If you're in southern Italian cyclist ë multiple
times a day for life-threatening situations antisocial mafiose made by road users. There is never
has intervened and now I am held accountable for walking with a bike... we live in a strange world!
"And how must I go from the one side of the village to the other side?"
"Well, at least without a bike."
It looks like the cop is trying to make a serious point.
"You can park your bike outside the village."
"That is a very nice of yoy mister, but then they will get my bags empty."
"That is not my problem, that is your responsibility."
Meanwhile, there are cars driving in the street. I point at the dangerous traffic that the
villagers of Capri are so brutally exposed at, but the cop does not even bother to look.
"These people are authorized by law."
"Can you perhaps authorize me as well?", I honestly ask.
The patience of the cop seems to be over. He makes that clear by brutally pointing out that
I can go to hell. This is not a heartly welcome to Capri. Before I get fines, I withdraw
and leave the village of Capri. And I leave the island of Capri. This is not a good place.
I take the first ferry to Sorrento.
Day 31: Sorrento - Positano - Amalfi - Ravello - Salerno - Paestum 112 km
From Sorrento I have to climb seriously to the pass that divides me from the Amalfi Coast.
I am climbing an hour before I reach the pass at more than 500 meter elevation. The
effort is rewarded with stunning views. On the north side I have views back to Naples,
Vesuvius and the Bay of Naples. On the south side, I have views over the steep cliffs
of the Amalfi Coast. I descend to the Amalfi coast, where the road lies straight against sometimes
vertical cliff walls. Along the cliff coast, I descens to Positano, that lies steeply
in a bay with high mountain peaks like a crown above the town. Positano is the first
of a long string of villages and small towns that lie spectacularly on rocks, hidden
in coves or steeply against the cliffs. The architecture of the villages may not be very
unique, the dramatic setting in the landscape make the towns and villages of the Amalfi Coast
so special. The area makes me think of the Cinque Terra, at the Ligurian coast. Today I enjoy.
The hours slip by and at two o'clock I have crossed the area. The port of Salerno
marks the end of the Amalfi Coast. Here I will take the ferry to Sicily tomorrow. I would
have taken me three days to reach the south point of mainland Italy. From Reggio di Calabria
I could have taken the southernmost ferry to Sicily. The problem for me is that there is only
one departure per week from Palermo to Sardiny. In order to catch the ferry to Sardinia, I have to
take the ferry from Slerno to Sicily. So I will not continue to Reggio di Calabria but I do
want to continue forty kilometers to Paestum before embarking to Sicily. There are two
ancient Greek temples in Paestum that I want to visit. The road from Salerno to Paestum is
as flat as a Dutch polder and despite the heat and the headwind I cycle in two hours to
the Greek temples. Near Paestum I find a campsite as well. Tomorrow cycle the same road back to
Salerno and then take the ferry to Sicily.
Read further about our adventures
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