Friday, August 1, 2008
Thursday, June 12, 2008
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
On our way...
Tomorrow we're off to Ireland for a few days with the folks/in-laws, before heading back to the sweltering, animal hair-filled closet that is our apartment on Monday.
We may post from Ireland, but in the meantime, thanks for reading... we'll see you soon!
We may post from Ireland, but in the meantime, thanks for reading... we'll see you soon!
warm showers, or why the world is not actually a bad place
So there's an organisation for cyclotouristes called Warm Showers to which we belong. Its members offer up their homes / garages / showers or sofas to other cyclotouristes who may be passing through their places of domicile. Our sofa bed in Brooklyn is on offer, for example, although the only person who's showed any interest in touring through NYC on a bicycle had his five (count 'em!) kids in tow and I had to explain that it might be a bit of a squeeze, what with the dog, the cat, us, him, the five kids and the size of our apartment.
Anyway, we'd wanted to do a lot more warm showering on this trip than we did, mainly because our itinerary didn't really seem to collide with warm shower locations. Today's did, however, and that's how we came to make the acquaintance of the lovely Nico & Noelle.
After some initial confusion (did we or didn't we confirm the date and time of arrival? what number was their house? eeek! bloody hell we're vegetarians... and would we have imposed if we'd known that nico had a theatre opening that night AND that they have a 14-month year old boy with the most amazing blue eyes named Baptiste?) the evening ended up being one of the best of our whole trip (for us anyway). Our hosts were the epitome of congeniality: they were so lovely, charming, welcoming and warm, and so interesting to talk to, that the kilometres seemed to fall off like so many pebbles off our backs.
Anyway, we'd wanted to do a lot more warm showering on this trip than we did, mainly because our itinerary didn't really seem to collide with warm shower locations. Today's did, however, and that's how we came to make the acquaintance of the lovely Nico & Noelle.
After some initial confusion (did we or didn't we confirm the date and time of arrival? what number was their house? eeek! bloody hell we're vegetarians... and would we have imposed if we'd known that nico had a theatre opening that night AND that they have a 14-month year old boy with the most amazing blue eyes named Baptiste?) the evening ended up being one of the best of our whole trip (for us anyway). Our hosts were the epitome of congeniality: they were so lovely, charming, welcoming and warm, and so interesting to talk to, that the kilometres seemed to fall off like so many pebbles off our backs.
last biking day: savannieres to exhaustion
Today started out beautifully, with tartines with the lovely nico & noelle, who so graciously managed to insert us into their morning routine (getting two adults and a 14-month old washed, fed and out the door by 830...)without even seeming flapped. R & I loaded up the bikes, found the bike path, and pedalled on the 20km or so to Angers. The ride went right by the River Maine, through shaded forests and past squawking seabirds, and ended up suddenly in the middle of Angers by the chateau-forteresse. We peeked into the gardens (photos to hopefully follow) and walked around the grounds, but we didn't go into the chateau because we had nowhere to put our panniers, and Angers felt a little too big to just be leaving them in a car park. So no Tapestry of the Apocalypse for us. Sigh.
What really made us sigh was getting out of Angers. Or at least trying... definitely the closest we've come to a row all week. After circumnavigating the city and its environs for about an hour, we just rode in the direction that seemed most logical. It wasn't a bad choice, if a little too frequented by lorries, trucks, buses and lunatics for our taste, but it did, eventually, get us onto a bike path that led to our bike path. But not until Rich got a flat.
Neither of us had had one all trip. It was really only polite to let it happen on the last day.
Then came a really fun, fast (or as fast as we can handle with the paniers, which is about 16mph) spin into I-don't-remember-where-sur-Loire; we'd hit the 50km mark, which meant it was time for lunch. And beer. Mmmmm.
And back on the road, more spinning all the 26km into Saumur. We turned too soon and ended up hurtling over the four-lane heavy traffic bridge into the town, which was terrifying to put it mildly (Husband: Phew! I'm glad we made it over that bridge," pause "Oh look! There's the bike path..."). But it wasn't just the bike path, it was 86 000 bike paths all converging together under a bridge by the river (where, incidentally, a man had driven his car to, it seems, take its picture against a pretty background). And we had no idea which one to take. So we gave up and went to Decathlon, and then chose a route randomly and eventually found our way in.
The castle was really cool, if up an exceedingly steep hill, the likes of which we hadn't seen since Italy. But it was closed. And while we'd initially planned to go all the way to Chinon via Fontrevaud today, our bike computers were already reading 80km (or 50 miles) and the idea of half that again seemed just silly.
And so, somewhat unceremoniously, we headed to the train station and wangled our way onto one of the few TGVs to Paris (there was an SNCF strike, bien sur!), whence we write to you now. Bonjour!
What really made us sigh was getting out of Angers. Or at least trying... definitely the closest we've come to a row all week. After circumnavigating the city and its environs for about an hour, we just rode in the direction that seemed most logical. It wasn't a bad choice, if a little too frequented by lorries, trucks, buses and lunatics for our taste, but it did, eventually, get us onto a bike path that led to our bike path. But not until Rich got a flat.
Neither of us had had one all trip. It was really only polite to let it happen on the last day.
Then came a really fun, fast (or as fast as we can handle with the paniers, which is about 16mph) spin into I-don't-remember-where-sur-Loire; we'd hit the 50km mark, which meant it was time for lunch. And beer. Mmmmm.
And back on the road, more spinning all the 26km into Saumur. We turned too soon and ended up hurtling over the four-lane heavy traffic bridge into the town, which was terrifying to put it mildly (Husband: Phew! I'm glad we made it over that bridge," pause "Oh look! There's the bike path..."). But it wasn't just the bike path, it was 86 000 bike paths all converging together under a bridge by the river (where, incidentally, a man had driven his car to, it seems, take its picture against a pretty background). And we had no idea which one to take. So we gave up and went to Decathlon, and then chose a route randomly and eventually found our way in.
The castle was really cool, if up an exceedingly steep hill, the likes of which we hadn't seen since Italy. But it was closed. And while we'd initially planned to go all the way to Chinon via Fontrevaud today, our bike computers were already reading 80km (or 50 miles) and the idea of half that again seemed just silly.
And so, somewhat unceremoniously, we headed to the train station and wangled our way onto one of the few TGVs to Paris (there was an SNCF strike, bien sur!), whence we write to you now. Bonjour!
Nantes - Savennieres
Another beautiful day on the bikes. This day had everything: long flats, a steep, long climb, wind, a tiny (tiny) bit of rain, and many many turns of the pedals. The total mileage on the day was just shy of 100km.
Our stay the night before was in a really cute hotel in Nantes that had only been open for 2 months and was being run by people who got their hotelling chops sharpened at the Four Seasons. The place, The Hotel Saint-Yves, was smack in the middle of a busy block but once you walked in the door it was like you were sitting in the middle of a country kitchen. We met an 82 year-old man who had recently completed a 250km ride all on cobbles. Wow. He was sweet and very concerned with how many gears we had on our bikes.
Around midday (before the wind, after the main climbing) we hit a town at the top of a colline that seemed abandoned, with one restaurant open. Once inside though, we saw every man (they were all men) from the 5 closest towns eating their lunch buffet. We were a tad on the late side, so by the time we had finished our carbo-load lunch the place was absent its 45 other diners and we were the only two that remained. Nicky was chatting with the lovely couple that runs the place when she was told the story of the birth of the town:
Now you know that is a tale that I can get behind...
Right.
Most of the mileage took place in the rolling wine hills of the Loire valley. A hot, muggy day meant that many of the expansive views were cut a little short, but everything was playing out to be just a great day. But the mugginess gave way to a breeze-and a stiff headwind developed that wound up near-destroying our morale. Our speed dropped and our legs began to ache. We anxiously awaited each town, but they were far apart and mostly drab and none of them had ice cream. We needed ice cream. We never got it. When we finally limped into Savennieres, nothing was open and there were no restaurants to find with moving lore. We were at rock-bottom. Awaiting the return home from work of our night's hosts (see Nicky's post about the goodness in the world), we mustered the strength to go to the next town in the hopes of finding a beer. Which we did (well, I did, Nicky had wine..).
And like most things that start with beer, the rest of the evening proved to be one of my favorite things about the whole trip.
Our stay the night before was in a really cute hotel in Nantes that had only been open for 2 months and was being run by people who got their hotelling chops sharpened at the Four Seasons. The place, The Hotel Saint-Yves, was smack in the middle of a busy block but once you walked in the door it was like you were sitting in the middle of a country kitchen. We met an 82 year-old man who had recently completed a 250km ride all on cobbles. Wow. He was sweet and very concerned with how many gears we had on our bikes.
Around midday (before the wind, after the main climbing) we hit a town at the top of a colline that seemed abandoned, with one restaurant open. Once inside though, we saw every man (they were all men) from the 5 closest towns eating their lunch buffet. We were a tad on the late side, so by the time we had finished our carbo-load lunch the place was absent its 45 other diners and we were the only two that remained. Nicky was chatting with the lovely couple that runs the place when she was told the story of the birth of the town:
Local legend has it that Gargantua put one giant foot in Nantes and the other in Angers, and relieved himself of his solid waste. That relief, the story goes, was the town of Bouzillac.
Now you know that is a tale that I can get behind...
Right.
Most of the mileage took place in the rolling wine hills of the Loire valley. A hot, muggy day meant that many of the expansive views were cut a little short, but everything was playing out to be just a great day. But the mugginess gave way to a breeze-and a stiff headwind developed that wound up near-destroying our morale. Our speed dropped and our legs began to ache. We anxiously awaited each town, but they were far apart and mostly drab and none of them had ice cream. We needed ice cream. We never got it. When we finally limped into Savennieres, nothing was open and there were no restaurants to find with moving lore. We were at rock-bottom. Awaiting the return home from work of our night's hosts (see Nicky's post about the goodness in the world), we mustered the strength to go to the next town in the hopes of finding a beer. Which we did (well, I did, Nicky had wine..).
And like most things that start with beer, the rest of the evening proved to be one of my favorite things about the whole trip.
Sunday, June 8, 2008
Quiberon - Vannes (...uuhh then Nantes)
As Nicky's post about yesterday hinted: riding here in France (when healthy) is more like riding and less like getting repeatedly punched in the face by hill after hill until just before you give in and then realizing it's time for a glass of red and some shuteye. We've had two picture-perfect days in a row: today covered more territory, 78km, but it was just as great as the day before. I think I'm over the sickness hurdle, so we were up early and back the 20km to Carnac by 9. Brekkies and a coffee and we were off along a beach road and over to Locmarquier, where we saw more big old rocks. At least I think we did. We had a guided tour at an archaeological site, but it was in French, so I only got about 23% The guide was clearly awesome though, and I knew every time he mentioned an animal either because Nicky had already taught me the word or because her face lit up. Menhirs and Dolmens oh my! Really I was happy that I understood as much as I did and the formations were pretty cool (though I'm pretty sure that Nicky's favorite part was the end when the guide told her a story about the hedgehog that used to follow his tours).
More riding on to Auray, which proudly and justifiably bills itself as a Ville Touriste. It was beautiful. Straight out of a movie. We had ridden and seen a lot so we had a three hour lunch in the old port. A bottle of Sancere, fish stew, and enough passing chiens to thrill us near-endlessly. But it had to end, so back on the bikes it was. After a brief mixup which had N headed towards the superhighway and me on another overpass yelling Ici!! ICI!! and knowing she couldn't hear me (or see that far without her lunettes). Yet we made it through a mighty headwind to Vannes. From there we trained it here (Nantes) to make up for the days lost to my illness.
A lovely day.
Some time, you should ask me to tell you about the people sitting next to us at dinner tonight. Wow.
R
More riding on to Auray, which proudly and justifiably bills itself as a Ville Touriste. It was beautiful. Straight out of a movie. We had ridden and seen a lot so we had a three hour lunch in the old port. A bottle of Sancere, fish stew, and enough passing chiens to thrill us near-endlessly. But it had to end, so back on the bikes it was. After a brief mixup which had N headed towards the superhighway and me on another overpass yelling Ici!! ICI!! and knowing she couldn't hear me (or see that far without her lunettes). Yet we made it through a mighty headwind to Vannes. From there we trained it here (Nantes) to make up for the days lost to my illness.
A lovely day.
Some time, you should ask me to tell you about the people sitting next to us at dinner tonight. Wow.
R
Obama abroad
on the cover, too. I know many don't care, but I for one am psyched to
see America at least glanced at in a more positive way. Or even just a
curious one.
It's really strange to bike down streets in different towns and have
them be named after US presidents. To think that other people kind of
admired the person who fit that job description. That would be pretty
cool.
Either it's...
side pizza vending machine (in just 3 minutes!!) does indeed exist. We
were both too chicken to buy one-most likely because all of the
goodness and light was being sucked from its vicinity in order to
supply the required power.
Called the Barakapizz, it is not officially part of Barack Obama's
campaign fundraising scheme. I don't think it is anyway...
Sheeps and stones may break my bones...
took a picture of them together!
Saturday: Port Louis - Quiberon
alors... Well, R decided that he wanted to ride, even if it meant a diet of rice cakes, bananas and flat "Breizh Cola" for the journey. Incidentally, we befriended the owner of the alimentation here - charming gentlerman who introduced us to his friend the snail, who's been living upside down on the ceiling of his shop for two months now and hasn't changed position once. Anyway...
We kept it to about 35 miles, in glorious weather and on quiet, rolling country roads. It really was lovely. Our first stop was Carnac, where we rode around the various megalithic sites and made friends with the sheep grazing by the stones. Seems that every cycling tour we do has to involve standing stones and sheep. Not sure what that means.
After Carnac, we set off down the 10 mile isthmus that is the Presqu'ile de Quiberon, and it's a wind-beaten, sandy almost-island alright. A lot of it is wild, and the trees all look like cartoon combovers, gelled in one direction by an always-westerly wind. At the end of the isthmus lay Quiberon itself, a kind of parody of any other seaside resort. Think boardwalks, candy floss, dodgems, unforgiveable bathing attire and souvenir shops along the strand. And crazy cat lady hotel owners who purchase pets based on expected longevity. And hotels with plastic sheets and lingering cigar fumes.
Not that we're complaining, mind you. We found Barbapapa egg cups, and Rich got his Breton sweater, and we hopped on our bikes again and rode out to a lookout over the Bay. Bici & Velo, sans 40 lb panniers, felt like Angel Delight...
We kept it to about 35 miles, in glorious weather and on quiet, rolling country roads. It really was lovely. Our first stop was Carnac, where we rode around the various megalithic sites and made friends with the sheep grazing by the stones. Seems that every cycling tour we do has to involve standing stones and sheep. Not sure what that means.
After Carnac, we set off down the 10 mile isthmus that is the Presqu'ile de Quiberon, and it's a wind-beaten, sandy almost-island alright. A lot of it is wild, and the trees all look like cartoon combovers, gelled in one direction by an always-westerly wind. At the end of the isthmus lay Quiberon itself, a kind of parody of any other seaside resort. Think boardwalks, candy floss, dodgems, unforgiveable bathing attire and souvenir shops along the strand. And crazy cat lady hotel owners who purchase pets based on expected longevity. And hotels with plastic sheets and lingering cigar fumes.
Not that we're complaining, mind you. We found Barbapapa egg cups, and Rich got his Breton sweater, and we hopped on our bikes again and rode out to a lookout over the Bay. Bici & Velo, sans 40 lb panniers, felt like Angel Delight...
Friday, June 6, 2008
Extra Day
With Rich needing a lot of rest and recovery after his illness, he
slept much of the morning away. After some amazing prune pastry
concoction and the best coffee I've had since Italy, I decided to
meander along the Breton coast to the next town. There and back, it
was about 8 miles along lovely deserted coastline, past numerous
shipwrecks that looked like they'd been lying abandoned for years, and
a delapidated chateau, turrets n'all. Sadly, my phone was charging &
so I have no postable pics; we'll have to wait for the flickr upload
when we get back to Bklyn.
slept much of the morning away. After some amazing prune pastry
concoction and the best coffee I've had since Italy, I decided to
meander along the Breton coast to the next town. There and back, it
was about 8 miles along lovely deserted coastline, past numerous
shipwrecks that looked like they'd been lying abandoned for years, and
a delapidated chateau, turrets n'all. Sadly, my phone was charging &
so I have no postable pics; we'll have to wait for the flickr upload
when we get back to Bklyn.
Anyway, when I got to the town (Locmardieq, I think), the market was
ending, so I picked up some excellent cheese and tomatoes and a Breton
bread called a "Dolmen" to share with the sick one. By the time I got
back, he had been sitting in the sun outside the hotel for about an
hour, absolutely famished (a good sign), but after a picnic, a stroll
around the citadel and some time spent staring into rockpools, he
immediately needed another nap. As did I. This is a really lovely
village, but it's still off-season and very quiet, and there are only
so many times a girl can go into the Celtic bar and drink ethically
produced tisanes with the surly bartender (who dresses and looks like
an Arthurian pirate, if that's possible)and his pine cone retrieving
golden lab, Flynn...
Anyway, barring further incident (such as me contracting this bug), we
should be out of here tomorrow and heading down to the Presqu'ile de
Quiberon. It's only about 30 miles, but we feel uncomfortable doing
any more til we're sure R is mended.
Tomorrow's ride goes through Carnac, so hopefully we'll get some
photos of the menhirs and dolmens to post for any remaining readers we
might have.
Oh! And if you are reading, please comment. We love reading them, and
their mere presence lets us know we're not just blethering into the
cybervoid...
N
Not norovirus...
been for two days. Not bad. The reason we are here at all is a bit of
a modification to our original plans. It seems each bike tour we do
must have one grand unforeseen variable that changes our plans:
Scotland had gale force winds and rain, France had the stomach flu. I
hadn't been feeling well as we left Paris a few days ago, and things
came to a stopping point yesterday out on the road after 45km (nowhere
near as bad as norovirus, but bad nonetheless). Nicky kindly demanded
that we stop in the next town and stay the night. That's why we're
here. We went to a French doctor (who opened his doors at 5pm!) and
were seen right away. Ahh the benefits of 1. A state funded universal
health care system, and 2. A lovely wife who speaks French. He gave me
some perscriptions and suggested we not ride today. So we didn't. And,
feeling much better today, Nicky and I had a picnic and a dander.
We've (more like she's) canceled our upcoming reservations and have re-
plotted our course. All-in-all, a minor setback, and we could have been
stuck in far uglier towns. Off to find a Breton sweater!
R
Thursday, June 5, 2008
Brittany is very connected to the land
to go to this. Sadly, though, it's happening about 50 miles in the
wrong direction. Sigh.
Tuesday/Wednesday
Tuesday went by in a tumultuous flurry of transportation and logistical nightmares. After having queued for an hour for the Uffizi (only to be told it would be at least another hour til we'd get in) we gave up & headed over to the Oltr'Arno for some grub. Then came: getting bikes from hotel to station, dismantling said bikes and squishing them into bags, waiting an hour for a train, train starting then stopping in another station and just sitting there for an hour or two, changing trains, getting to airport in Pisa and then waiting for easyjet to board our delayed flight. We were not-so-secretly overjoyed that we landed too late to take the RER into Paris, and so it was with a lot of enthusiasm that we convinced a taxi driver that yes he could indeed fit our bikes in his cab. And it was amazing to come into the courtyard of KR's lovely apartment to be greeted by two maudlin felines wondering who the hell we were coming in at such an hour.
The next morning wasn't much easier: get bikes ( in bags) to the gare montparnasse (thanks for checking, Dad) by metro (of course, it being the start of the month, all the Parisians were queueing for their cartes oranges)... Get on the TGV - first class, thanks to some crazy fare system that made it cheaper than anything else - arrive in Quimper, negotiate 824 roundabouts and several dual carriageways (four-lane highways) and ride 30-odd miles to Pont Aven.
The next morning wasn't much easier: get bikes ( in bags) to the gare montparnasse (thanks for checking, Dad) by metro (of course, it being the start of the month, all the Parisians were queueing for their cartes oranges)... Get on the TGV - first class, thanks to some crazy fare system that made it cheaper than anything else - arrive in Quimper, negotiate 824 roundabouts and several dual carriageways (four-lane highways) and ride 30-odd miles to Pont Aven.
Tuesday, June 3, 2008
San Gimignano - Firenze Redux
Quoth David Byrne: OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOh What a day that was.
So as Nicky wrote yesterday, the elevation chart was right, and we spent the 60km day either struggling up along a vineyard ridge or coasting down from hilltown to valley. There was no in between. I think we had about 30 pedal strokes on flat ground and that was it. I quite enjoyed the day, though every time I said that it was at the top of a hill and Nicky would shoot me a glare. There were loads of other cyclists out on what was a beautiful day-though not many of them had panniers...
Oh. There was also the fact that it was Sunday in Italy on a holiday weekend and nothing was open. After pushing ourselves to the limit climbing 3km at 10% gradient into San Casciano we were on the hunt for food. But it was a ghost town-except one restaurant, where we collapsed into our food with such intent that had a dog walked by, we would have probably shown IT our teeth.
Eventually the locals trickled onto the street and the town came alive. We finished our meal and got back on our velos. The ride to Firenze was almost all downhill - and we caught glimpses of the Duomo in all of its ridiculous hugeness from miles away. Florence, sittling like a pancake in the middle of hills and mountains in eveery direction. When we got in Nicky took a nap and I treked over to my old hood to see the school and the old architecture studios. 10 years ago and it pretty much looks the same.
All in all it was a fitting end to the hilltown week.
We're getting ready to leave for the Pisa airport in a few hours, with a stop first at the Uffizi galleries so Nicky can see Botticellis. France looks like it's going to be all flatness and frites. Perfect!
Also: Thanks to Josh and Sarah for the hotel recommendation. The place was great and our hosts were super sweet.
Next time from France!
R
So as Nicky wrote yesterday, the elevation chart was right, and we spent the 60km day either struggling up along a vineyard ridge or coasting down from hilltown to valley. There was no in between. I think we had about 30 pedal strokes on flat ground and that was it. I quite enjoyed the day, though every time I said that it was at the top of a hill and Nicky would shoot me a glare. There were loads of other cyclists out on what was a beautiful day-though not many of them had panniers...
Oh. There was also the fact that it was Sunday in Italy on a holiday weekend and nothing was open. After pushing ourselves to the limit climbing 3km at 10% gradient into San Casciano we were on the hunt for food. But it was a ghost town-except one restaurant, where we collapsed into our food with such intent that had a dog walked by, we would have probably shown IT our teeth.
Eventually the locals trickled onto the street and the town came alive. We finished our meal and got back on our velos. The ride to Firenze was almost all downhill - and we caught glimpses of the Duomo in all of its ridiculous hugeness from miles away. Florence, sittling like a pancake in the middle of hills and mountains in eveery direction. When we got in Nicky took a nap and I treked over to my old hood to see the school and the old architecture studios. 10 years ago and it pretty much looks the same.
All in all it was a fitting end to the hilltown week.
We're getting ready to leave for the Pisa airport in a few hours, with a stop first at the Uffizi galleries so Nicky can see Botticellis. France looks like it's going to be all flatness and frites. Perfect!
Also: Thanks to Josh and Sarah for the hotel recommendation. The place was great and our hosts were super sweet.
Next time from France!
R
Monday, June 2, 2008
firenze
Blogger won't let us log in today, so this is a quick post from Firenze, where everything is closed for Republic Day.
Yesterday was a challenge... over 10,000 feet of climbing (the elevation chart was right), including a number of instances where the climbing gradient was proudly displayed on a street sign to be more than 10%. Those guys on the Giro weren't doing that much more! And then there was the 17% descent... that was fun, if absolutely terrifying. Rich hit 60km per hour at one point, which is, well, fast.
Wow.
Now we're in Firenze and running out of time. More (plus photos!) later.
xxx N
Sunday, June 1, 2008
Nicky points to the first mountain
found a wifi spot in San Gimignano, hence the deluge of photos)
Today we head to Firenze. We're unsure about what the day has in
store, as the map and the elevation chart are telling different stories.
X
Saturday, May 31, 2008
Siena-San Gimignano
roundabout route from Siena to San Gimignano, avoiding the main roads
and discovering many hills, shaded lanes, and beautiful farmhouses in
the process. There were some excellent descents (we broke the speed
limit a couple of times) ranging from 12 to 14%... Thankfully the
roads had dried off from yesterday's downpour.
Just before the much anticipated three-mile climb into San G, we came
across a birreria... which made us very happy. A couple of leffe
rouges, a shared bowl of ribollita and due espressi later & we powered
up a hill that would have killed at least half of us less than a week
ago.
Poppies
white (gravel) road from Montepulciano to Montalcino.
Friday, May 30, 2008
montalcino-siena
We're in Siena now, after a day spent climbing and coasting in the pouring rain. The route we took was absolutely beautiful, all little back roads and cypress trees and big, tuscan fields. Oh, and the 15% gradient hill that hit us. Granny gears! Nicky even got off her bike for a smidge. Just a smidge... she's sorry, Dolores, but she was in the pain cave.
We thought we'd try and have lunch on the cheap, and so bought lots of bread and arugula and tomatoes and cheese (leftover from our "on the cheap" dinner of bread, cheese... aged pecorino(mmm)... and a bottle of rosso di montalcino last night) but the torrential downpour that chose to rain on us had other ideas. It soaked our bread. It SOGGED our bread. We were sad, but secretly delighted as it gave us an excuse to run into a hyrbid cafe / game room / old man hangout and get (a) warm and (b) "pizza". Or the semblance thereof.
And so now we're in Siena, and we could eat horses if we ate such things (luckily for the horses, the Palio is not on today). We're staying in a youth hostel waaaay out of town and the busses stop running... wait, no, the busses stopped running already. So it's pici e taxi for us this evening.
Hungry. We're off...
xxx N&R
We thought we'd try and have lunch on the cheap, and so bought lots of bread and arugula and tomatoes and cheese (leftover from our "on the cheap" dinner of bread, cheese... aged pecorino(mmm)... and a bottle of rosso di montalcino last night) but the torrential downpour that chose to rain on us had other ideas. It soaked our bread. It SOGGED our bread. We were sad, but secretly delighted as it gave us an excuse to run into a hyrbid cafe / game room / old man hangout and get (a) warm and (b) "pizza". Or the semblance thereof.
And so now we're in Siena, and we could eat horses if we ate such things (luckily for the horses, the Palio is not on today). We're staying in a youth hostel waaaay out of town and the busses stop running... wait, no, the busses stopped running already. So it's pici e taxi for us this evening.
Hungry. We're off...
xxx N&R
Thursday, May 29, 2008
Montpulciano - Montalcino (the long way...)
When we sat down to plan this trip, we thought it would be best to stick to the smaller roads. Less traffic. Less trafficked. Great. Today we found out what the repercussions of following the "white roads" on the map can be. That would be: bad. You see, on the map of Tuscany we use as our base, the smaller roads are white, the medium roiads are yellow, and then there is a whole different logic for the big ones. White roads are gravel and do away with the notion of switchbacks and other leg (or engine) saving technologies in favor of an older, less sophisticated diagram: straight up. It was with great regret that we both found ourselves in our lowest gears (the granny gear...) as we plodded away at the beast leading up to Montechiello.
Oh. Did I mention it was raining?
It was raining.
And windy.
Really windy.
There is an old song called Cold Rain and Snow which was caught in Rich's head pretty much all day. And that pretty much defined today. Well. Almost (no snow...but wind)
(oh...and lots of hills)
The landscape is beautiful, of course, yadda yadda. We came upon a town which has as its piazza a thermal spring. It was really cute.
The climb into Montalcino was NOT fun. Until it was over. We are quite proud of our 5807 ft of climbing today, though we know that there will be 20,000 more before we leave Italy.
Oy.
Oh. Did I mention it was raining?
It was raining.
And windy.
Really windy.
There is an old song called Cold Rain and Snow which was caught in Rich's head pretty much all day. And that pretty much defined today. Well. Almost (no snow...but wind)
(oh...and lots of hills)
The landscape is beautiful, of course, yadda yadda. We came upon a town which has as its piazza a thermal spring. It was really cute.
The climb into Montalcino was NOT fun. Until it was over. We are quite proud of our 5807 ft of climbing today, though we know that there will be 20,000 more before we leave Italy.
Oy.
Food Report
Nothing new on the gelato front, sadly, but we have had some fantastic meals. In Montepulciano, we visited El Borgo Buio, which is a locally-sourced, organic, blah di blah, slow food establishment. And it was really, really good. Let us make your mouths water: pici with porcini mushrooms, gnocchi with radicchio and walnut pesto, grilled vegetables preserved in olive oil and served warm with ricotta and whole red peppercorns... We were there for hours, since the owner, an affable chap by the name of Pier Luigi, kept waffling away to us about life, the universe, and bicycling. And so we had some grappa, and some coffee, and the evening was altogether splendid.
Also on the food front, our friend Renee made us an amazing sampler of camping/energy foods to bring with us... today's pistachio nougat - which was even better than it sounds - saved Nicky at the top of yet another hill. We were both big fans of the cheese and rosemary biscuits with dried apple, and they travelled all this way with us in perfect condition. Hurrah for chef friends and life saving food!
PS You think about strange things as you climb hills. Yesterday, Rich sang a song to Nicky's teeth (in French, which seems to have become his first language since we got to Italy) as he scaled a col. Today Nicky found herself punning, which to those of you that know her, must seem rather odd. Her goal for the trip? Keeping the bonkasaurus at bay...
Oh, and the pizza's really good in Rome.
Also on the food front, our friend Renee made us an amazing sampler of camping/energy foods to bring with us... today's pistachio nougat - which was even better than it sounds - saved Nicky at the top of yet another hill. We were both big fans of the cheese and rosemary biscuits with dried apple, and they travelled all this way with us in perfect condition. Hurrah for chef friends and life saving food!
PS You think about strange things as you climb hills. Yesterday, Rich sang a song to Nicky's teeth (in French, which seems to have become his first language since we got to Italy) as he scaled a col. Today Nicky found herself punning, which to those of you that know her, must seem rather odd. Her goal for the trip? Keeping the bonkasaurus at bay...
Oh, and the pizza's really good in Rome.
Chiusi - Montepulciano
We have photos, so many photos. We promise to upload them as soon as someone unlocks their wireless connection... maybe Friday in Siena?
So, the riding. We got to Chiusi and it was something like 31 degrees C (which is about 354 farenheit, in Nisa calculations)and, well, we hadn't a clue how to get out of town. Problem with Google Maps is that it likes to name all the streets. Problem with Italy is that it doesn't. Anyway, some mediocre Italian later we had witnessed a man make a 'bumpy bumpy' gesture with his hand and look at us like we were bonkers, and we were on our way to Sarteano. Sorry, on our way UP.
It's hilly round these parts. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise. Day One was only 20 miles, as we didn't actually start riding til four in the afternoon, but we climbed 3230 ft just.like.that.
You come to resent the downhills round here, too. They're too twisty-curvy to be all-out fun fests, and all you can think about on the way down is the fact that all the towns here are up, up, up. We both considered telling Tuscany that we'd be happier with simpler flats, but decided not to. Watching each other suffer is one of the joys of marriage, right?
Oh, and it's beautiful. Bright scarlet poppies everywhere, green and yellow fields, those crazy Tuscan trees... and the farmhouses! It feels so cliched to say it, but we probably wouldn't object to retiring here.
So, the riding. We got to Chiusi and it was something like 31 degrees C (which is about 354 farenheit, in Nisa calculations)and, well, we hadn't a clue how to get out of town. Problem with Google Maps is that it likes to name all the streets. Problem with Italy is that it doesn't. Anyway, some mediocre Italian later we had witnessed a man make a 'bumpy bumpy' gesture with his hand and look at us like we were bonkers, and we were on our way to Sarteano. Sorry, on our way UP.
It's hilly round these parts. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise. Day One was only 20 miles, as we didn't actually start riding til four in the afternoon, but we climbed 3230 ft just.like.that.
You come to resent the downhills round here, too. They're too twisty-curvy to be all-out fun fests, and all you can think about on the way down is the fact that all the towns here are up, up, up. We both considered telling Tuscany that we'd be happier with simpler flats, but decided not to. Watching each other suffer is one of the joys of marriage, right?
Oh, and it's beautiful. Bright scarlet poppies everywhere, green and yellow fields, those crazy Tuscan trees... and the farmhouses! It feels so cliched to say it, but we probably wouldn't object to retiring here.
Having Left Rome...
We were stuck in an un-air conditioned bike room of the outbound train (2.5 hours after we planned to leave) with a crazy Canad. He was the campaign manager for the Green Party there. He was in week five of a seven week ride through God Knows Where on his own - and he was still running things for The Party back home (and checking his oil stocks???) after his daily ride. He liked to tell us things. We listened politely, happy to be on our way to the first bike miles of the trip.
Or so we thought.
N*R
Or so we thought.
N*R
Leaving Roma
Dear Roma,
We do not understand your one-way street system. Please explain. It makes it a little bit hard to cycle through your streets carrying 40lbs of extra weight and get to the station to catch a train on time.
And then you charged Nicky 70 cents to pee!
And where on earth did that uomo come from? The one with the sleeveless shirt and hairy shoulders? Was he one of yours, Roma dear? He wanted Nicky to come away with him, or if she couldn't do that, at least to watch youtube videos of him on the Web...
Stick to the gatti, Roma. You know what you're doing there.
Love,
Nicky & Rich
We do not understand your one-way street system. Please explain. It makes it a little bit hard to cycle through your streets carrying 40lbs of extra weight and get to the station to catch a train on time.
And then you charged Nicky 70 cents to pee!
And where on earth did that uomo come from? The one with the sleeveless shirt and hairy shoulders? Was he one of yours, Roma dear? He wanted Nicky to come away with him, or if she couldn't do that, at least to watch youtube videos of him on the Web...
Stick to the gatti, Roma. You know what you're doing there.
Love,
Nicky & Rich
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
Bici est Ici!!
For those concerned: my bike was waiting for me in our room when we got home from lunch today. It was smoking a cigarette and demanding to know what all the fuss was about.
"Nice was beautiful."
"Oh? I've never been."
"Shame."
We leave tomorrow early in the morning by train to Chiusi. From there we ride through the countryside to Montepulciano. Rumor has it there's wine in them there hills... Hopefully all the dings and loose bolts will shake free during the first few miles and we'll be cruising.
R
"Nice was beautiful."
"Oh? I've never been."
"Shame."
We leave tomorrow early in the morning by train to Chiusi. From there we ride through the countryside to Montepulciano. Rumor has it there's wine in them there hills... Hopefully all the dings and loose bolts will shake free during the first few miles and we'll be cruising.
R
I gatti della area sacra argentina
ever seen. It's a sacred area of Roman ruins, right in the middle of
the city. The cats are all vaccinated & spayed / neutered, and they
get to hang out amidst the ruins and the trees, in sun or in shade,
day and night. Of course we've visited twice already, and may well
return a third time...
N
Monday, May 26, 2008
counter blog
So we are sitting at adjacent computers somewhere in Rome, doing some kind of competitive blogging to this site. We don't have much to report in terms of biking (see Rich's entry for more on that) but as we're not due to leave for Chiuso and the hilltowns until Wednesday, we're stopping short of freaking out entirely just yet.
Will try to find a way to post pictures later. This computer won't let me upload the ones from my camera, and we can't access any of the wi-fi spots to post the ones from our phones, but we'll keep trying. Someone in Rome must have unlocked wi-fi!
This is my first trip to Rome, and I can't get over what a palimpsest it is. Scratch away at something and there's always something else underneath. I know that's true of most cities, but it seems especially true here, where centuries are like wallpaper on these old walls.
We've been mainly wandering around, in typical Agate-Nisa fashion (hi, senior!), and trying to work on our Italian, which is sub-par, even for beginners. Indeed, our first date was to see a film called Italian for Beginners... coincidence? Non lo so. We also did some major touristy things today, like visit San Pietro and the Sistine Chapel. Every so often, I remember something my Latin teacher told me about Rome and I get all excited, partly because it feels really wonderful to have those twenty-year old memories come to life, and partly because my old Latin teacher used to drink beer and smoke in class, and teach in a supine position with his feet on the desk. And that's just a good memory to have.
We're off to sample some Prosecco in a park close to our guesthouse. It's in the Trastrevere, which we both love already. Lots of random cats sitting in windows three stories up, golden retrievers wandering around on the loose, bambini screaming, old couples strolling arm in arm... good stuff. And gelato! So far we've sampled some straciatella (both of our favourite), pistachio, and a ridiculous dark chocolate thing that was very good. May go back for more of that tonight... which means we need to get on our bikes and burning calories pronto!
N
vino velo...dov'è la mia bici?
My bike took its own holiday to Nice (insert Nisa/Nice pun here). As of this writing, I am still bike-less. Thus far, no worries, as we are here in Rome until Wednesday. But I do hope it arrives soon. The woman who runs our pencione informed me that the airport can take anywhere up to 5 days...so tomorrow if it hasn't arrived, I'll start to worry. The funny thing is, when we were waiting for our flight from Dublin to Rome, we met people at our gate who were going to Nice to start their own tour from Nice through the Alps to Geneva. After they left, I thought: Boy I hope our bikes don't end up in France. Jinx. Nicky's showed up all purdy. Mine went on holiday. So when I was at the airport service counter telling them that one of the main items involved in my trip was not anywhere to be found I said, I bet it's in Nice. When she ran my baggage claim ticket through the computer she looked up at me like I was clairvoyant.
R
R
Saturday, May 24, 2008
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