Chinstrapped

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After seven days of camping, usually in the wet we were very happy to see Francesca and enjoy a few days in her roof top flat right in the centre of Bologna's old town.What a place too.Its a university town, has over 30km of archways ,several old towers and enough churches and old building to rival any European capital.Italy's really growing on us as a country and with a hostess as easy going as Francesca we had a great crack wandering about the place.Mind you we did spend quite a lot of time back at the flat indulging in a bit of rare 'indoors'. Lovely day to stay in,isn't it? Too bloody right, no doubt it'll piss down the day we leave......
Francesca's boyfriend,Tati's cousin and my mate Frederik turned up from Copenhagen to see us and as they like to cycle we all took off on the Sunday for a nice ride through rural landscapes until the town of Scandiano where we said our goodbye's and they headed back to warmth and wine.Wishing we were there instead of in our tent ,pitched in a small oak grove listening to that all to familiar pitter patter of rain on the canvas and thunder and lightning thrown in for good measure.We had three good days of weather in Bologna but now its back to good old piss downs for our struggle towards Genoa.And how we struggled! Only 40km on day two and a pitiful 39km on day three.Hampered by heavy rains,one day of which kept us in the tent for a record 19 hours.We are finding the going a bit tough as its hard to get the tent and tarp dry for the evenings,luckily our bags are well covered so, at least there are dry clothes for the night time cold.Its hard on the head though ,doing such little distance doesn't do much for morale and we're not even in the mountains yet.
I suppose we should of been glad to see the sky clearing late on day three as we pushed on into the Ligurian's, trouble with that is ,a clear sky means a cold night and at 800m its gonna be a chilly one.We shrugged off an old man's comment about snow on the mountain tops as some sort of crazy local fable, but we weren't laughing an hour later looking at that very snow dangerously close to the road level.It was time to go old school.Tati's always laughed at my cardboard box insulation theory,well,it was time to put it to the test.Luckily for us Italy has a good re cycling system, so we fished around in a paper bin and made off up mountain with enough cardboard to keep the homeless housed for decades.It was still a cold night, but without the magic card on the floor the cold and wet would of soaked in ,making for a miserable night.Tati was in the bin like a tramp after a fiver the following night fishing out old wine cartons to add a bit of scent to our now finished look of cycling scarecrows.Time for a drop of cough syrup and meths,nothing like a good cocktail to end the day.
Got everything dried out in the lovely morning sun,small moral victories help a lot, its a huge boost to get things dry again, but also to feel the warmth of the sun on our faces.Still ,we feel an ache in our hips from so much lying down in the tent, the cold and the climbs aren't helping much , but it would be a lot worse if Francesca and Frederik hadn't of lent us their Quecha sleeping mats in place of our old knackered ones.
The Ligurian mountains are stunning this time of year, the autumn colours are rampant in the Oak, Chestnut and Beech trees along the Ezna and Taro valleys.Coppers ,reds, yellows splashed with evergreens painted seasonal colours as we plodded slowly up into the cold, this has been one of my favorite parts of the ride in a long while,we even managed to find some huge sweet chestnuts along the way.In the evenings we've gone a bit 'master chef', trying to out autumn each other in the kitchen.Pork ,pumpkin,apple,chestnut,red onion and sweet potato being thrown together with enthusiasm to keep Jack Frost from the door.Camping under trees to keep the night rain off and stacking up on cardboard has kept us warmer, washing in the streams when we can, although there,s not much hope for my 'day four' t shirt right now,which is starting to look like a tramps handkerchief.
Passo de Bocco is at 956m, from here its a cracking, winding downhill all the way to the Med.What a view from here,right across to the north we can see the snow caps of the Italian Alps, floating like a table cloth in the morning air.This may be our penultimate mountain crossing although im sure we'll find more.
From quiet mountain roads to busy Riviera at Chiavara we had to be on our toes as the cars raced along the steep curving streets.Bloody hell!, we've just crossed a mountain and ended up on a road cut into a cliff face dotted here and there with rich Italian castle villa's.It was slow going,there's no way we'll cross Genoa today.The towel came in as we passed through a tunnel on the pavement dodging between crash barriers and the wall.Then Tati heard an almighty rippppping noise from her bag as her right pannier got caught and opened like the Red Sea.The sharp edge of the barrier upright had torn her pannier from top to bottom,Moses would of been proud.It was time to find a camp site.
A good bit of sewing that night,coupled with some strong glue and an old inner tube has got her bag looking solid and full of character and no doubt soon full of water too.We have a tailwind and good sunshine, time to get going and invoke a bit of the dormant desert spirit that we've been lacking of late.Leaving bright and early hacking our way along the coast before running the gauntlet at Genoa , where there seems to be a who's who of the world's shitest drivers, then eased around the coast using fantastic bike lanes that follow the old train lines, including the narrow old tunnels.A great idea, well used by the locals.This is more like it, a 90km day, that's helped our spirits to put down some reasonable distance.Feeling pretty hammered though, legs feel like someone else's and I reckon ive got a cold coming on.Ain't got time to bleed though.Camped overlooking a horse center and felt some dreaded rain begin to fall in the night.
That's what gets you going quick in the morning too,just a few drops is enough to have you packing down like an Olympic champion, forgetting any aches and pains.With a sky like that we couldn't believe that today wasn't a washout,in fact with the tailwind we managed to do a 100km day .It was fairly flat too with handy tunnels at most mountains,very thoughtful,good bits of bike track too.Buzzed by our last two days of progress we stopped in for pizza at Imperia.Should be easy,pizza in Italy at a pizzeria.Not in Imperia, at least not for us.Tried three and got three no's.We don't do pizza.It's a fucking pizzeria! Surely that's some sort of record,being unable to get pizza in Italy is like not not finding any people in China.It'll have to be frogs legs in a couple of days then.
We made it to San Remo just before dark and decided on the camp site as wild camping was a bit of a no go around here.Asking price was 29 euro's but we soon had it down to a reasonable 15 euro in as many seconds.Back in the bins we fished out cardboard and set up shop.An hour later the heavens opened and remained so for the weekend, prompting us to move to undercover.We met Alfie and Ruth a great British couple who took us in for the night , saving the rain orphan's from misery.Hung out together, exchanging stories and had a good laugh.Even got to see a rare Liverpool victory in glorious technicoloured streaming from the internet.
Well ,Monday was more of the same but we had to get on.Quick tea with Alfie and Ruth and then it was off on the rain soaked roads of Italy, crossing the 20 000 mile mark just before the border to France.

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