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22. Bed bugzzzi. (June 22)

The only men I attract by my appearance these days, are those with noisy machines. – mowers, tractors, builders and lorry drivers. Even the rubbish truck man made a comment after a near miss. I don’t think it was complimentary.
But the hoteliers usually always shake my hand when I leave, which is sweet.

My ebike has a little onboard computer which gives me four cycling modes, depending how much battery help needed for the terrain. I have added another mode: “LOST”, which is especially helpful for dizzy blondes.

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I wish it had “find the perfect hotel room” mode as well. My industrial park motel room, which I shared with my bicycle, was a bit bleak. When I picked up my panniers off the floor a couple of bed bugs crawled away. EEEK!

Luckily, thanks to a very disturbing fly that buzzed around me the entire night, I had got into my silk sleep sack, which unwittingly had prevented those dreaded bed-bug bites. Now all my clothes need washing. Good thing, as they haven’t seen a washing machine for 4 weeks.  The buzzing fly was telling me something more? (Hand washing my clothes every evening is not quite enough. My claws are very tired at the end of the day.)

Whistling along through yet another completely vacant village, I came across a swimming pool. It was the hottest day so far, and there was a blackboard with a fast food menu scribbled on it. The combination of pool and food was too much to resist. A nice round Italian Mama was dragging her crying little boy out of the water, he wanted to stay and swim like all the other little kids….but she whined: “DEVI MANGIARE AMORE!!!”… . (you must eat my love).

I collapsed into the large blue pool of icy water right on the banks of the river. The boy who made the brätwurst couldn’t believe how fast such an old person could eat the thing and wash it down with fanta. Not my standard order, but with a good dose of ketchup and mayo, it was delicious.

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Cooling towers, steel works, and other industry to be seen along the Rhine. Quite a contrast to the sweet little old towns.

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The bridge from Germany to Switzerland. I didn’t cross it. Switzerland is much more expensive. The Swiss like to swarm over the border to do their shopping, and then get the tax refunded!

At about 15:00 I usually begin to worry about accommodation. Around here there are no obvious places to stay along the route. Even toilets are very hard to find, and being a lady, one cannot just piddle on the side of the road like the men do. This is not Italy where you can find a crowded  friendly cafe at the centre of even the tiniest village.

There are long stretches of shady bike tracks, then some streets and intersections which can be a bit complicated, and then the signs direct you along farm roads through cultivated fields. One of the hazards of biking through the fields are the irrigation sprays, which I have learnt to speed past while they turn. A light sprinkling wouldn’t be a problem in this weather, but they are like a waterfall and rather blinding.

Checked my booking.com for a place to stay, and found Pension B&B Jasmin, off track at Karsau. On the way up a steep hill there was an ebike shop. Feeling very happy to have a reason to stop, I asked the huge man for some chain grease. He showed me how to apply some oil. Since then it doesn’t seem to change gear very well, and clatters terribly.

Nobody was at B&B Jasmin, so I plonked myself down at a Pub down the road. Tested out my German a little bit. Very traditional place that smelt of cigarettes and sour beer. I ordered Rinderleber with balsamico, and the man said it was cow heart. It took me some moments of revolted consideration, and I thought, oh well, maybe it’s good for courage, love and emotion. Strangely it tasted exactly like liver and onions, but good enough for the necessary amino acids and iron. Washed down with wine of course.

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What the doctor ordered

I was way too tired to write this blog, but please note, I still manage to put on some  lipstick once in a while but my hair is a fright.

Odometer 1573.7

63 kms today, not too many but it was really hot.

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9. Poggio Pratelli. (June 4)

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The evening was lilac with pink roses, from the high terrace of the village called Radda our glasses of red wine held up in the sun, and the moon floated like a white petal between them.

A choir was singing in the church so we sat on a pew and closed our eyes for a while listening to heaven.

 

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Saturday morning saw us pedalling past green vineyards. Little did we know what was coming.

First a very fast downhill. I whizzed down at 58kms per hour, which is a record for me, and I don’t intend going faster than that ever again. Simon went much faster.

But then the really-really steep uphills began.

We rode up and over wineries, olive groves and oak forests.

I stopped to wait for Simon under a tree, a luxury granted me by me electric bike. Luckily for us, a group of very happy people from Treviso stopped there too, for a sip of Prosecco in the shade of an old farmhouse. Corrado came over and invited us to join them.
We had a lovely noisy rest there and exchanged contact details.
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When traveling by bike you really notice the ground, how it passes beneath you, changing colours and stones. You feel the wind dragging off the back of your arms like silk scarves. Sometimes you hold your breath when a truck goes past or a ditch of sand pulls you into a sideways skid. I’m getting better at hopping off without hooking my foot on the water bottle.

Insects often collide with your face.

Road things: Lizards, and lizard tails, small sharp white stones and flapping butterflies, 3 snakes (2 squashed), some unfortunate hedgehogs, african hoepoes, cuckoos, motorbikes, tractors, vans, and the scent of olive trees in full blossom.

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My camera’s extra-wide-angled lens has an annoying way of flattening the landscape…

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This was our last day of riding together, as Simon must to return to work. So we took it slow until lunchtime, when by chance, we found the perfect spot at Casa Nuova

The owners, a very nice Dutch couple, Ulla and Thierry have renovated the villa and made it spectacular. They are good friends of Maló and Guido (with whom I am staying now).

We had been there together for dinner about a year ago and loved it. Not realising it was the same place (night and day difference), we turned in and recognised the garden. Had a long chat and delicious lunch. Ulla has published a cookery book of their own recipes (written in German).

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It was time to face the last long uphill to our destination, the magical home of Maló and Guido at Poggio Pratelli (we all share the privilege of grand-parenting Elia, our gorgeous grandson in Oslo).

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And so we arrived by way of a gravelly road to find a bottle of excellent Prosecco from the family estate, Torre Degli Alberi, waiting for us in the fridge.

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The garden is dripping with roses of all kinds, lavender and blue cornflowers, rosemary and poppies….

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Iceberg rose…
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Sunday morning sunshine filtered through the vine leaves, dappling the veranda table. Maló makes the most delicious food; salads and wild strawberries picked from the garden and olive oil from her trees.

The four of us “nonni” bragged on about the pure wonderfulness of grandchildren, and made a toast to Elia who was at the same moment enjoying a 1st birthday picnic with parents and friends at the lake in Oslo. And to gorgeous Mikey who had just caught his first Australian fish, aged 2,5 yrs.

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Sunny Sunday morning. Simon rode off to the train station. We watched him go, until he was just a speck on a far-off farm road, then he vanished into a forest.

I felt quite bereft.

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Simon sent me this picture from the train station. So he did actually reach it in time.

I was very pleased to be invited to go with Maló and Guido to their good friends for supper. This is the view from their home overlooking Florence. We talked a lot about routes and bicycles.

2018-06-04_0001.jpgWeather predictions for tomorrow are rain and wind. But I don’t believe it, and will head off at around 9 am. Maló is helping me find the track.

Florence tomorrow…

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1. Before leaving Rome (April 22)

“All roads lead to Rome”  – to be more precise… the Via Appia Antica will lead us into Rome and the Via Francigena will lead us straight out again. Very, very far out this time.

I am preparing to ride my bike from our home town, Marino Laziale, which is situated on the slops of a volcano at the southern edge of the eternal city of Rome, and head north to Oslo, capital of Norway.

Departure date is planned for May 26th, early morning, when the moon will be at her fullest. Which I hope will have some beneficial effects.

Below is a very nice image, thanks to Copernicus (Sentinel 3) where you can see a cloudless Europe…just point at mid-Italy, and go north!

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There is a secret feature on my bike……a battery!

It’s an e-bike you see …. a very smart CUBE bicycle. It arrived in a giant box with an operating manual almost as heavy as the bike itself: “General Operating Instructions Pedelec”.

Some say I’m cheating. And I admit there is a paradox involved.

I am doing this because I can only do it with the help of a battery – but sneer if they must.  Little pushes from my battery will certainly help to keep the grinding-grit out of my nonna knees.

The 80 page Bicycle User Manual is also a long read. Then there are the instructions for my onboard computer, and I need to download the smart phone map-apps, and setup a tablet to write this blog. This ‘over the hill’ grandmother is quite boggled by tech.. TBH.

(TBH means ‘to be honest’, for you other ‘over-the-hillers’.)

Simon will accompany me for the first week of the adventure, but then he has to get back to work, leaving me to figure things out as I go! Going solo is quite a scary challenge I must admit, I am a bit of a Simon follower when exploring unknown realms. Usually Simon takes care of the responsible stuff, and I dawdle behind with my camera, and paint box.

Mostly I have generous encouragement from Simon, my family and friends.  But my parents have, in their wisdom given me stern warning of the dangers.  So it’s a toss-up between lounging on my couch, or lunging around in the traffic seated precariously on a metal instrument, most probably lost. Certainly not overly safe, but I will do my utmost to avoid a dramatic end.

When one reaches what is commonly known as ‘a midlife crisis’, it is obvious a red sports car is not the way to go anymore, what with the environmental hazards it provokes. The new and revolutionary way to travel is by e-bike, going gracefully green is key to surviving difficult accusations from the grandchildren. Such as: why did you muck up our planet ? and: What did you do to stop global warming?

Midlife crisis is not the real reason I’m going on this trip… really. In case you thought it was. Actually there are other reasons, those being… I like riding my bike and going places. Something to do with my nomadic roots I suppose.

Alone on my bike in the forest, I might meet animals, or feel how the birds fly and know the slow opening of the yellow flowers in the morning.

 

Picture of my bike in Marino. (Snazzy seat cover and bell – gifts from Megan.)fullsizeoutput_188c

“May the force be with you”