On Italian cycling culture, banter, and being overtaken

Wow, I have just experienced the very heart of Italian cycling culture, I think. The Dolomites and the Groupo di Sella (group of saddles) in particular were rammed today (Saturday) with thousands of cyclists climbing and descending the various spectacular mountain passes in the area. Sometimes I like my cycling to be out in the (seeming) wilderness, all alone. Today I was happy to be a part of something quite Italian, and perhaps unique.

There was endless lycra and carbon on show. Most were riding as part of a team or club, out training in team colours, often with a support van waiting at the top of the pass for refueling and encouragement.

I think I got over excited by it all. After a 'journee sans' yesterday (a day without any energy) and only 60ks or so, I was fully rested this morning and feeling good as I hit the first climb. Within half a k, I was overtaken for the first of many times. (Since Dubrovnik I had only been overtaken twice before). Being a competitive chap, at the start I would hold onto the wheel as someone came past. But as I got used to it, I learned to hold my own pace. Instead I indulged in my usual gooning around and banter in such situations, trying to engage the overtaker with a simple 'ciao' or 'race you' or even 'can you carry my bags for me'. The language barrier seemed to get in the way and I mostly got a polite nod in response. I guess I was also breaking several of the unwritten rules of Italian cycling coolness, both with my attempted banter and 4 heavyweight panniers.

I have to say I love the fact that I am carrying an unknown handicap on these climbs. People always look at me a bit stangely, sometimes they say 'bravo' in recognition. As people pass I like to imagine they are calculating how much weight I am carrying, and whether my weight corrected effort is more or less. I know I do. Whereas everyone else is using pretty much the same equipment, and performance can be compared, with me and my weight handicap, no one can tell how well, or badly, I am doing. It is the perfect cloak of (performance) secrecy.

Special mention to Italian 'Raymond' who, at the end of a long day, without prompting from my ridiculous banter (too tired), overtook me, then slowed for me to sit on his wheel (in his slipstream) into a headwind for about 20ks. Bizarrely we conversed in German, a very poor alternative language for both of us. Now I am in Sud Tirol, I think I will be sprechening Deutsche a little more. German banter, now there's a challenge.

Great day overall. The Dolomites are spectacular, climbing has become fun, descending is a joy on perfectly surfaced switchbacks, my humour is making me laugh if no one else, and I've got more tomorrow...

Mit freundlichen gruchen, James

Zoncolan, La Portal Per L'Inferno

Today I rode the Monte Zoncolan with panniers, one, if not the, hardest climbs in the Giro d'Italia. I think it averages 15% for about 10km. Luckily I went down that side, and up the other. Still I climbed 1200m in 13km, and 500m of that was in the last 3.5km through ski fields. It felt, and actually was, like cycling up a black run.  Great fun, in rose tinted, beer stained, spectacles. Like riding in the wheel tracks of all the greats, with panniers.

Ciao, James

Slovenia big tick

What a day: 170 kms from sea level to 1200m and back to around 250m; 2 mountain passes; endless low Alpine valleys; a bar owner who loved cycling and whose cousin won the Race Across America 5 times; strong legs - no cramp; great food including lovely salty anchoivies on a pizza Romana; and now, free camping in Italy, albeit without a shower - it was getting dark, that's what I'll tell the Carabinieri.

I've really enjoyed my day in Slovenia - well about 6 hours of the day.  I'd like to return one day.

Ciao, James

Croatia, tick

Ok, I've just been stopped by a Croatian campsite security guard. I suspect he took me for a vagrant - not surprising given the evidence facing him: long beard; sat on the floor round the back of the laundry; plastic bags, maps, other paraphernalia strewn around me; bread crumbs all over my shirt, etc etc. I have now found a chair, cleared up a bit, and am now feeling a more 'legitimate' member of this campsite, if not yet society.

Today is my last day in Croatia. To celebrate, I am doing my laundry, writing this post and downsizing my travelling clobber. Despite trying to travel lighter than California, I ended up at much the same weight. After meeting a lovely Italian-Spanish couple on a tandem carrying less than me, and realising over the last 8 days that I was only using items from the upper 50% of my panniers, I am going to send some excess baggage home.

So what of Croatia? Well, it's hot, but then again so is the UK this week! Cycling in this heat however, over big hills (no mountains) has really been tricky. On one particular hill, I stopped near the top, feeling a little dizzy, and my heart didn't slow a beat for about 10 minutes. I guess my body was still trying desperately to cool down, like a fan on a car running on at the traffic lights on a hot day, but more scary.  Anyway, my body seems to be adjusting slowly to the heat, but suffice to say I am still sweating buckets, as anyone who has seen me exercise can well imagine. The good news is that fresh water is pretty plentiful and I am consuming more than 6 or 7 litres on the road each day. As for my drink to urine ratio.... enough.

Croatia is a pretty beautiful country. The landscape itself is pretty barren on the islands and coast, but the dramatic coastline, clear warm sea and plentiful historic buildings make it very attractive. By the way, I think I've been a little spoilt by the time I spent in the amazing variety of scenery of California.

The locals here are pretty friendly and relaxed, especially in the more off the beaten track places. I seem to have mastered the critical words, hello and thank you. Spending time with the Italians and Spanish however is throwing me, and there's even some German creeping in. I will pass into Slovenia and Italy tomorrow so I'll probably adopt French.

Swimming in the sea at the end of the day had been thoroughly fantastic. If you were a keen open water swimmer like my good friend Sonja (hi), you could do some serious island hopping. I just about make it out to the bouys and back.

Having spent a few days with a couple on a tandem I've noticed a lot of differences in the performance of the tandem couple vs solo, this could even turn into a metaphor for relationships, but that would require more thought than I have time for now.

By the way, cycling in my sunglasses is definitely faster. Well it was up until I stood on them. If ever I feel tired and need a boost I simply slip my glasses on. The lenses have the effect of making me feel about 2 foot taller on the bike, around 20% faster, and exactly 8% more hip (yes it is possible). I'm gonna start wearing binoculars strapped to my helmet for an even greater performance effect, and to help with he strange looks.

By the way, I don't think I was the most prepared cycle tourist for this trip. I managed to pack only 1 spare inner tube, and when I discovered it was the wrong size (26 inch) at my first puncture I threw it away - big mistake. The next day was a bank holiday (Croatia had 3 last week) and no shops were open so I had to plod on, running my old inner tube with about 5 old patches on it. I had about 3 glueless patches with me and a nice Dutch guy cycling to Beijing (respect) lent me a couple more. At 2pm the next day, my first puncture hit, and at 6pm I managed to get going again! The problem was the glueless patches couldn't deal with the heat, and were just melting, (both old and new), the Dutch guys patches turned out to require glue, and when I walked to a petrol station and bought some patches, the tube was literally perished. When the Italian-Spanish couple caught up they kindly lent me a spare 26 inch inner tube (with a slow puncture) which I damn well made to fit - oh the irony! It only took a beautiful campsite, sunset and ice cold beer to laugh about it.  Following the punctures, my loose rear hub that had been threatening to disintegrate itself (now fixed) paled into insignificance.

Some other random observations...

Crotian history is very complicated.

Beach culture is big, speedos are small.

I took a wrong turn yesterday and ended up in a different country.

I love putting olive oil and salt on my bread, to go with the obligatory European travel food, cheese, chorizo and tomato.

I am currently bleeding from a mossie bite!

Since starting this, I've done my laundry, downsized, sent parcel with 5kg excess pants to my mum (thanks), ridden through Slovenia (not quite all of it), arrived at a great little campsite north of Trieste in Italy, enjoyed a beer, eaten a feast, and yet again been eaten by mossies. Nothing changes...

Cheerio, James