I remember I used to be good at this. But, this morning, I caused a scare at Gatwick when I pushed my bag under the ropes rather than carry it around their queuing system. After the security team descended on my unattended bag, they accepted that I was just lazy.
I landed in Genoa and bagged a free lift from the dude I was sat next to on the flight (Juan, I salute you). At the train station I found out that I won’t be able to get 3G in Italy – I engineered a solution using offline google maps and some Wi-Fi that I borrowed from a café.
Italy is beautiful, everyone is very friendly. I took a walk around the city to stretch my legs; I think I may be able to finish this trip eating nothing but gelato and pizza.
Back on a bike on day 2, it’s been while. The coast road down the Rivera is fantastic, the weather is perfect and there is a Gelateria every mile or so. Many of the houses have extra windows painted on.
I’m not a fan of hill biking though, so the climb into ruta pass was punishing. I’m through the tunnel and it’s all downhill to Rapallo, to a well earned panini and a train ride.
I reach my hostel in Levanto, the rail tunnels here have been tarmac’ed into bike paths. They really carry your voice, I can hear a conversation a hundred meters ahead. I try a ‘vampiro’ pizza (hold the garlic) and hit the hay at half ten, it’s a big day tomorrow.
My job on day 3 is to navigate five famous fishing villages spread down the coast. The cliffs here are, at best, a 45 degree angle (someone told me once that was ‘flat’ in Nepali).
I hear there is a great photo point in a derelict monastery on the cliff side path to the first village. I grab my bike and bag and set off. I meet three German guys packing up their bikes who tell me that I’ve got a challenge ahead.
They weren’t joking, I spend most of the trail lifting my bike on my shoulder. It’s not useful here, just a dead weight. A man coming the other way eyeballs me and says ‘Bicicleta! Heroico!’.
I slug it out to the top, everyone else on the path asks my name and wants to offer me water. The view is spectacular, and I head down the cliffs into the first village for a drink.
Where the path meets an access road, I emerge and fifty hikers waiting for the bus give me a round of applause! A great ego boost. Pride comes before the fall.
As I wave and bike off down the world’s steepest road, I’m feeling great. I’m slowing down now as the road corners. My rear brake fails and I have to pull an emergency stop with my feet. I reach behind me to touch my block breaks and burn my hand, my fingers are covered in black tar. My entire rear brake has melted under the friction of gravity. Shit, that could have been serious.
So now I’m pushing my bike to Pisa until I can get it fixed.
On the plus side, the boats and trains here are regular and I found a great fish and chip shop. They make wine and lemons here, a local snack is a frozen lemon stuffed with sorbet.
A Gentleman's World 