Our last post ended with the tale of meeting Giorgio Mazza, It was, we thought, a unique chance encounter but somehow these sort of meetings continue……but more on that later.
Prior to leaving Rieka in northern Croatia our route had been largely defined by following the Mediterranean coastline. Once we headed inland to Slovenia, our route has become a zig-zag affair defined by circumstance, chance recommendations and weather (avoiding the heat). Nonetheless, geography still plays a major role as we just don’t feel up to crossing some of the high mountain passes.
(Top left) A favourite campsite in Austria! (Top right) Another pass through the Alps. (Lower left) Funky bike tand, a great idea……in theory. (Lower right) Traffic lights in uber-organized Geneva.
From Slovenia, we crossed into Northern Italy and hung out in Pordenone for a few days. We did a day trip by train down to Venice (no bikes allowed on the island) which was, as expected, well worth it. We arrived early in the morning and beat the throngs but as the numbers increased my agoraphobia (actually it is ‘touristphobia’) set in and we headed back to Francesca’s place – an AirB&B stop that was delightful. The night before she had invited us and a friend for dinner and, as usual, we gabbed late into the evening. The following night we had her modern apartment to ourselves.
From Pordenone we headed northeast towards Tarvisio, through a moderate mountain pass to the Karnten province of Austria. We rode quiet, secondary roads through a series of small villages (recommendation of a road rider) until our route connected with a stretch of the truly remarkable Italian cycle path network. From what we understand the network has been developed relatively recently (past 10 years) but it is certainly the best of what we’ve seen to date. The paved cycle path was an old railway grade through a tight valley with many bridges and at least 20, deliciously cool, tunnels. We wild camped our second night out of Pordenone (our 1rst in Austria) alongside a river. Regrettably we had a somewhat disconcerting experience of a horse rider (the local farmer?) galloping past our tent just as we were settling into bed, presumably to scare us. It was a bit of a setback in my attempt at converting Claire to the wonders of wild camping! I guess there are many of you that think my persistence with this is frankly ridiculous/reckless. On the other hand, as a veteran of camping in Canada and as most bike tourers will tell you, the notion of wild camping is both desirable and sometimes necessary.
(Top left) An old railway bridge now a cycle path. (Top right) Excellent cycling infrastructure is commonplace in northern Italy. (Lower left) Seemed to me like a perfectly innocuous place to camp but not to the local who galloped past, inches from our tent! (Lower right) In Austria, all wood piles MUST be perfect…..its a regulation!
The balance of our time in Austria was awesome as we traversed east to west through the Austrian Dolomiti. We had no idea how beautiful the countryside would be. Is was an image right out of Sound of Music. Pristine, steep-sided, flower-strewn pasture interspersed with traditional homes all with flowers boxes at the windows and perfectly stacked wood piles. So perfect it seemed like obsessive compulsive disorder at a societal level! As we sat at our tent (our favourite campsite) in the evening sun looking out onto the meadow across the valley we watched two men use traditional scythes to cut the grass on a steep hillside. We subsequently found out that the harvesting of hay was intended to keep the largely unused pasture land from returning to a more natural state, thereby maintaining the cultural landscape. EU subsidies facilitate this and the subsidy increases with elevation. Such an intervention by a supra-national political entity would seem absurd to North Americans but somehow it seems to make sense in the European context. We also learned that we had gone through one of the most traditional corners of Austria. It felt to us very homogeneous (white), religious and starchly conservative and this was subsequently confirmed by a couple of gay girls from Vienna that we camped alongside.
From a high pass we did a long descent down into the valley of the Drava (river) and crossed back into Italy near the resort town of Dobiacco. We also had some of the most ‘perilous’ riding of our trip as we wove through hordes of families and absent minded kids on one of the busiest cycle paths we’ve ever seen. We were riding uphill whereas the vast majority were heading down and doing the return journey by train.
From the miserable Dobiacco campsite (oh, the stories we have of camping in Europe!) we did the long gradual climb over the Passo Cimabanche and then started a sweet 60+ km descent through the heart of the Italian Dolomites. As an ex-climber steeped in the images and the lore of climbing in this area, it was a glorious ride.
Over the next 10 days as we wound our way back through Italy up to Switzerland into France back to Geneva and finally back into France, where we’ll stay for the next few weeks, we have experienced both lovely riding and some wonderful Warm Shower stays. In Trento, a mid-sized university town (with no night life!) we stayed with three students. Our host Rob was from the US doing his PhD and his two flat-mates were undergrads from Sciliy. We made dinner the second night and had a great time getting a young persons perspective on Italy. I asked about the likelihood of the legalization of marijuana in Italy (as the 2 Sicilians stepped out onto the balcony for a wee puff) and they categorically claimed that as long as the Mafia controlled both the drug trade and the politicians it remained highly unlikely.
(Left) We saw a lot of these street performers. A tough way to make a living. (Right) Patricia and Rocco in Lecco, Italy
Further north, in the Vale de Sole we had an awesome WS stay with Lorenzo in his ancient home that was once a water-driven grist mill and is now an on-going renovation. He was a wonderful host with multi-generational roots in the community. We spent our first evening at the local Festival of Honey (put on by the beekeeper’s co-op of which Lornenzo is a member) meeting locals, listening to music, getting a personalized tour of the local museum and having a picnic dinner in the riverside park. The crowd was remarkably chic given the surrounding small rural communities. The next evening Claire and I put on dinner and Lorenzo invited some friends. As we bustled about his kitchen (always a challenge working in a strange kitchen) Lorenzo inferred that the reputation of Canadian cuisine rested on our shoulders. Luckily, dinner was a great success thanks to fresh veggies from his garden, our foolproof lemon chicken dish and a little help from Rachel Ray (internet recipe). Italians are notoriously obsessed with food and accordingly we felt modestly successful in upholding Canadian culinary skills, whatever they may be.
Unsure of our route and somewhat overwhelmed by the heat we stayed two nights with Patricia and Rocco in Lecco at the south end of Como Lake. Their easy going hospitality made for a great two day break and, in the end, we decided to head north to Switzerland. En route north a broken spoke forced us to take a longer than planned train ride over the Alps (I didn’t know that the rear cassette has to come off in order to change a spoke) or should I say ‘through’ the mountains. The Alps are riddled with long and extensive tunnels. Our short three days in Switzerland confirmed my previously held opinion of the beauty of the country, the industriousness of the people, the excellence of their products/food and an overly ‘controlled’ society that tends to rub me the wrong way. We followed the Rhone Valley down to Lac Leman but spent the night on the French side near the town of Evian (of bottled water fame) at the home of Patricia and her 30 year old daughter Claire. Both Patricia and Claire were at certain ‘stages’ in their lives and were seeking either a new direction or new experiences or maybe someone to share the above. I think they were inspired by our trip and our partnership and it fuelled our conversation well past our bedtime.
The following day we cruised down the lake past some very exclusive real estate, blew through pricey Geneva, picked up the cycle path down the Rhone and headed back into France. Before long, the path died, we got off route, did a couple of unnecessary climbs and then flagged down a passing motorist to ask directions. A tall Dutch fellow got out of his car and 10 minutes later we were drinking good white wine on his back patio, and thus began another exceptional, serendipitous, two day stay with Jan and his Canadian wife Jan (that wasn’t a typo!)
OVER THE HILL AND BEYOND 