Changing tack

Cavtat – Slano

72.5km

I wonder if verbal diarrhoea is an actual medical diagnosis? I seem to just chat continuously when there’s someone to chat to.

Kate, who had been up since 3am bless her, had to deal with my excitement seeing her and chatting none stop all afternoon. It’s so good to have company again!

Despite my best efforts to minimise climbing it seems I’ve got a climbing enthusiast in Kate. I couldn’t deter her from wanting to go down the massive hill into Dubrovnik.

She did agree to avoid the second big hill when it started properly raining (perhaps the weather gods were in tune with my motivations).

Her bike had an exciting first day… and is now stuck in bottom gear. We’ve learnt this evening that neither of us should quit the day job in favour of being a bike mechanic. We’ll have to leave that to the pros.

Ready about

Zabrde – Cavtat

89.7km

With my crazy masochism I managed to turn today, which had the possibility of being awesome, into a battle.

I started the day with my new Swiss friends who seem to be level headed in the face of all adversity (AKA loads of punctures). They’re such an amazing team, I was quite envious of how well they worked together.

We had a wonderful morning gliding through vinyards with amazing views of the sea, the mountains and hundreds of islands.

I, perhaps foolishly, decided speed on alone to try and find a bike shop in Dubrovnik.

Naturally Olive wanted to go the scenic route. We were incredibly close to the Bosnian border all day, I was sorely tempted to hop over but decided against it when the roads over the mountain ridge came into view. You don’t really need castles and forts when you’ve got mountains like that to keep rogue cyclists away.

Dubrovnik didn’t quite charm me the way it seemed to charm the thousands of tourists.

I spent 2 hours there: 1hour in a bus stop next to the main road up on the hill waiting for a shower to pass that definitely was more than a shower. The next hour was divided into: 5minutes loosing all the height I’d gained about 5times, 10minutes realising Dubrovnik is not Olive-friendly because there are stairs everywhere and 45minutes in a cafe mustering the courage to go back up the massive hill to get to the main road.

The day was also shrouded in Olive-stress. The noises she’s making have gone a step beyond tuneful. And I didn’t find a bike shop. Bit disappointing.

Croatia mit Swiss

Gradac – Polče

Trpanj – Zabrde

70ish km

After feeling lonely yesterday today I made some cycling friends. Touring is awesome like that.

They were just minding their own business, looking for a romantic day out in the sun when, BAM. The Meg strikes.

You know what makes them so awesome? Between the pair of them they could speak fluently twelve languages, and successfully spent the whole day speaking better English than me. I don’t think the British education is quite up to scratch on the languages front.

You know the second thing that makes them awesome? They’re cycling to India…

They were such friendly, honest, beautiful people and were touring just how I dreamed it would be. And they had SO much stuff that they were lugging up the hills! It made me feel like I was cheating.

Hvar-tastic

Leg 1: Split exploration 5km

Leg 2: Hvar – Sućuraj

Leg 3: Drevnik – Gradac

I think Jadrolinija ferries might have to give me a season ticket, even after just today. Or maybe sponsorship. As well as cycling 90 odd kilometers I spent 9hours on a ferry today.

Sometimes I question my life choices but then when I get experiences like today I realise why I do it.

The sleeper (AKA no sleep) ferry took a lovely route into Split this morning, hugging the coastline for the last couple of hours. The quaint port villages and hundreds of little islands gave the impression of the hebredies, which is definitely a compliment.

Split was an interesting mix of the architecture of Italy and their own complement of grand city walls and tiny churches. It gave the impression of being a sleepy seaside town but that might be because it was 7am…

The ferry out to Hvar reminded me why I avoid the touristy bits. I was surrounded by manils (middle aged not in lycra) and gap yaars playing one-up-each-other on their amazing experiences. I fully intended to look around Hvar village but there were just too many normal tourists and Olive went into flight mode.

Hvar definitely didn’t disappoint as a welcome to Croatia. Lovely quiet roads, incredible seascapes and so much flora and fauna.

It would be amiss of me not to mention trek tours, because teaming up with them was another great decision, and definitely the highlight of my day. Rafael and a local Dalmatian beginning with a D (I won’t even pretend to be able to spell his name) were doing an excellent job of hearding cats around Croatia on bikes. I think I nearly got an interview to be a tour guide. They kindly took me under their wing and lead me on some amazing winding back roads through sleepy villages with spectacular views. (Fueled by OTE cereal bars!)

Not only that, but lunch break was spent studying my map and giving me ideas for the coming days. I think I’ll have to come back to fit them all in!

I actually put my legs to the test for the first time in a while racing down the south half of Hvar island to try and make the ferry. It felt great… until I ran out of energy. Made the ferry though, success!

Ciao Italy!

Scossicci – Ancona

35km

This post is mainly a reminder for my future self that the weather gods showed pity and gave me some sunshine before leaving Italy.

I had in my planning book that I had to ride from Portonovo to Ancona because it was “unmissable”. I’m not sure the hill into and out of Portonovo couldn’t have been missed.

Had a very leisurely afternoon waiting for my ferry. Drank far too much coffee and gave myself a headache. Navigated potentially the most disorganised ferry port without too many mishaps too.

Bring on Croatia.

Do all roads lead to Rome?

Tolentino – Scossicci

55.5km

How long do you have to have wet feet before you get trenchfoot? Is that how trenchfoot works?

I think I asked too much of the extractor fan last night and ended up putting back on damp clothes (an improvement on the saturated clothes yesterday!). It made a change to hear my socks squelching as I pedalled up hills rather than Olive squeaking.

Yesterday I learnt quite quickly rain (Piove) and cold (Freddo). Today had less piove but was still freddo. As usual, just as I’m on the eve of leaving a country I’m starting to grasp the basics of Italiano, to such an extent that people now speak to me in Italian. I have to do the blank stare of incomprehension for them to realise I have no clue what they’re saying. It turns out mime isn’t fantastic for giving directions either.

When I saw the Adriatic for the first time I wanted to swim to dispell Joe’s disappointment in my lack of wild swimming (“call yourself an open water swimmer?”)… but alas the tropical 5 degree air temperature, and wild stormy seas, put me off, again.

Given the lack of piove I went in search of hilltop villages. I forgot about the Romans until it was too late. They could learn a thing or two from the Spaniards about switchbacks to make hills more enjoyable.

There is a village atop the next hill in this photo but it obviously doesn’t look as impressive as real life.

And also Romans, we know Rome is the capital. Does it need to be on every signpost, even when you’re going in the opposite direction?

I tried to make friends with my German caravan neighbours but in the wake of my linguistic scrabble I think I’ve forgotten all my Deutsche.

Singing in the rain

12 Maggio: 87.4km (Castiglione del Lago – Foligno)

13 Maggio: 76km (Foligno – Tolentino)

Imagine if it rained all night but you still managed to keep everything dry? That was the blissful experience yesterday.

I spent the morning happily pedalling along with Kristi as company. What a beautiful human. I wonder if all cyclists are? It takes a special kind of person to set off under your own steam and just take what the world throws at you each day (I don’t mean that to sound self-congratulatory but I do believe I’m becoming better at dealing with the unknown so maybe I’ll be that awesome one day!)

The one challenge that I didn’t foresee – and I think Kristi did – was that there are many different styles of cycle touring; trying to make them coalesce is tricky. Even to me, hers sounds more appealing. She does a lot more chatting (and speaks a lot better Italiano) and beer drinking. She takes the whole experience more slowly and sees more, interacts more, with everything.

Despite it having rained all night the sun was shining and I even cracked out the sunnies again!

The weather gods must have seen though and threw an unexpected thunderstorm at me. In retrospect, it was just a warm up.

I camped in lovely Paolo’s olive grove who clearly appreciated the novelty of a cyclist asking to camp on his land and requested a selfie.

Pretty much as soon as I set up camp the proper rain started. It has rained continuously since then. Couple that with the 5 degrees and 20mph winds today was a bit of a challenge.

The highlight of the day was when Fernando, the bar man in a village bar, dug out his electric heater especially for me and encouraged me to hang my kit in front of it. Despite his kindness I could still wring out my socks after a 2hour drying session.

The good news is I’ve found a roof for tonight… and turned the bathroom into a drying room.

Rolling through Toscana

Siena – Castiglione del Lago

95.5km

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. I found my ideal beauty today. It makes yesterday seem like purgatory and today heaven.

Today the hedgerows were teaming with life – wild flowers, birds, rowan blossom. The scenery incredible. It looked like the soft rolling hills had been covered in a green, silky blanket that further accentuated it’s folding valleys. It filled my heart with joy.

I bumped into Susan and Chuck – a couple touring on recumbents. They overflowed with enthusiasm for travelling and had nothing but positive words to say about my route ahead. What was the most incredible was that their positivity must have endured their 7years on the road and they were that chearful without breakfast! I can only imagine their happiness with full bellies!

The joy of cycle touring is that the landscape totally changed this afternoon and I was treated to wooded valleys and hilltop villages. I think I should spend more time in the countryside. Navigating cities is far too stressful.

I did the regular Meg thing of pushing on too far and masking the enjoyment of the day in a shroud of fatigue.

It was worth it though. I made it to Lago Trasimeno which rewarded me with a spectacular sunset. I also made another cycle touring friend. We shared an evening of deep thoughts and a mutual affection for peanut butter.

After so many weeks without seeing any cycle tourists I’ve seen 5 today! Clearly Toscana is the place to be.

Pilgrimage D’Olive

Lucca – Siena

114.4km

Yesterday I did the being a proper tourist thing again. Went to Pisa and unlike the throngs going in search of a tower I had to take Mum to the botanical gardens for her daily dose of plants (like I need a dose of cycling).

She also attempted to visit Lucca’s 101 churches whilst I took Olive for another pamper.

I discovered why I’m not a bike mechanic. If I can’t fix a bike problem in 5minutes I get stressed and defer to my personal mechanic (AKA Joe). These guys spent what felt like an age tinkering with gears and brakes. I found it incredibly stressful and thought they were going to declare some major Olive operation. It was appreciated though when I set off and my brakes worked properly!

Today was a day of green. I think it’s my new favourite colour. I didn’t even realise there were so many shades of green. I think spring has well and truly arrived in Toscana. The smells being created by all the blossom was intoxicating.

I have a habit of pointing out Olive groves to my bike with a cry of “Olives Olive!” She loves it and usually gives me a nice appreciative squeak. Today even Olive almost got bored of the number of Olive trees.

We seemed to be vaguely following a Christian pilgrimage route from Cantebury to Rome. I’d be well up for a pilgrimage if it were more food based. Olive liked the olive based pilgrimage.

I arrived in Siena to find out that what was planned to be Mum’s last evening of her Italian adventure might actually be the start of her Tuscan life. She seemed well and truly settled in her castle…

Why don’t we call it Toscana?

La Spezia – Lucca

84km

Bike shop mechanic: “It’s nice that you try to do it yourself, but it is not enough”

She’s gone a month without complaining at all but today Olive put her foot down and requested some TLC. Or rather I had to put my foot down several times the brakes were so worn they couldn’t bring me to a standstill on a hill anymore. Do you realise the stopping distance of a train is 2km? The stopping distance of a almost-brake-less Olive was easily 30m. A little stressful when Italian drivers stop unexpectedly. With new brake pads she nearly threw me over the handlebars!

Today I was accompanied by Mr and Mrs Egg. Together we made a megga team. The eggs stuck to being happy all day despite some pretty bad trauma

Despite grumpy weather gods I managed to have a really chearful day. As soon as I saw a glimpse of the sun and cracked out the suncream it promptly went into hiding for the whole of the rest of the day. I wanted to try out my new sunglasses (courtesy of Mum) but it wasn’t really sunny enough.

It drizzled all afternoon. And naturally, there was a headwind all day. My favourite!

I made it to what is apparently cycling Mecca in Italy, Lucca, just in time to become unbelievably grumpy because I hadn’t eaten enough. Maybe I’ll appreciate it tomorrow, after I’ve finished eating like team of horses.