I must admit that in the last year I have noticed a decline in my fitness. I know that since I have been in Milan I have not been able to ride as much as I did when I was in London. I knew that I would be a bit slower in cycle races, but I have come to realise I am just not the cyclist I used to be.
How unfit and slow I am was confirmed last weekend when I took part in a cyclosportive. It was a 100km race which included around 1600m of climbing. I finished dead last, in a time of 6 hours 10 mins. That's barely 10 miles an hour (including short stoppages for various reasons)! The rider who came second last at this race finished more than an hour ahead of me. Practically all the riders who did the longer route - 140km finished before me.
When I finished I was tired, fed up and ready to stop. I had found te hills hard work, and at one point I had had to climb off my bike for a breather.
I guess my current living situation has not helped. Back in London before coming to Italy many people, myself included, thought it would be great to live in Italy and do lots of quality cycle training and racing. I had taken part in cyclosportives on trips to Italy, enjoyed the nice weather, the friendly atmosphere and I'd even given decent performances on the bike. I had therefore thought that a season here would be great for my cycling and my performance would improve.
I am now in Milan, and have ben here for a little over a year. Living the cycling dream? Not really!
Firstly, Milan is in a plain. Any quality cycling to be done involves travelling about 30 miles out of the city to find a training loop that includes any semblance of a hill. Not having a car, I am reliant on trains so in the morning it can be quite stressful making sure I get on such and such a train to Como or Erba, knowing that if I miss one train I have to wait an hour for the next one. Once I get on the train it is a one-hour journey. Monza is a little easier to get to, but it still involves a train journey and therefore an hour's lead time from home before I begin a training ride. And of course I also need an hour to 90minutes to get home once I finish my ride.
Then to compound matters is the weather. Because I know that I will have to sit on a train for around 90minutes after a bike ride, I get uptight about being caught in the rain during a ride. For about haf the year rainfall here is frequent, relentless and torrential. With no facilities for changing into dry clothes and the prospect of sitting cold and drenched on a train means that a standard training ride becomes a logistical operation if I wish to tempt my fate at all!
This is all in stark contrast to the days in London where I could just pick up my bike, set off from the house and start my training ride right from my doorstep. Even being caught in the rain is not so bad when on roads local to where you live and you can just ride home and get into a hot bath as soon as you stop riding.
I have always commuted to work by bicycle, and that has been a kind of bread-and-butter training during the week. When I was in London my commute would be 10 miles (16km) each way with a steep hill to ride up and a fast training stretch through Hyde Park. Sometimes I could even do sprint reps at lunchtime around St James's Park. So by the time the weekend came I would have done around 80miles of cycling without even thinking about it. In Milan my commute to work is 3 miles each way on a folding bike through the flat city streets and canal path. There's no chance of doing any training reps as I cycle in my work clothes and there are no showers at the offices where I work. Also, there is no secure area to leave bikes, so riding to work on my road (racing bike) is out of the question. [I have already had one racing bike stolen from me in Milan. I would rather not lose another!!]
Basically I cannot rely on commuting miles to help my cycle training.
Group training rides in Milan start at around 6pm, so no chance of joining those groups since I often leave work around 7pm. In any case I wouldn't be able to keep up!
In a nutshell I can't get in any decent training miles on the road before the weekend, so I rely on my rollers. And given the frequent rainfall we get in Milan it is not often that I even manage to ride on both days of the weekend.
There is no nearby velodrome like what I had at Herne Hill, and don't even think about off-road trails, unless you are happy to ride up and down a short slope at Monte Stella (the only hill in Milan) at least 40 times to get in a decent off-road training ride!
I'm sure that there are parts of Italy where life is good on a bike. But I don't think Milan is the place to be. It is not surpring that I am nowhere near as fit as I used to be back in London.
When I get out to ride local routes I find that by the time I have added in stoppage time to consult maps and find my way, eat, go to the toilet, take on and off clothes etc. I end up averaging 10 miles (16km) an hour. That's hardly breakneck pace. I understand that constantly stopping will impact on my pace, but I like to think that in a competitive situation I will be quicker because I will be in a group and I won't be stopping.
However, my p1ss poor result from Sunday shows that there is a big problem with my cycling. I am just far too slow, and I don't know what to do stop the decline. When I think about what I have ridden in the past - La Marmotte three times, the Paris-Roubaix, the Tour of Flanders, stage cyclosportives, multi-day cycle touring in the mountains and a number of Italian Gran Fondo events, I find it hard to believe that these were done by me. It must have been someone else!! I feel like a completely different person! Where previously I didn't think twice about riding 70 miles (110km), nowadays the idea of riding more than 80km feels like such challenge.
Parts of me think that it may be my age. I am over 40, so probably not as sprightly as I used to be. But then again, I know of many people my age and even older who can still knock spots off 30 year-olds with their performances! Maybe there's something wrong with me - anaemia or the onset of chronic fatigue. Or maybe doing this activity is just not in my genes. Who knows?
The worst thing is that I am on a slippery slope and don't know how to stop the rot. I joined a cycling club and was looking forward to taking part in races with my team mates, but now I am very reluctant to ride with them. Firstly, most of the rides take place at 9am outside of Milan so it is a stress to get an early train just to get to these places in time. And then when I get there I become anxious about holding everyone up with my snail pace.
Frankly, I'd rather keep my embarrassingly slow performances to myself away from the full glare of everyone else, and ride on my own. Of course this is not going to help my cause as my legs will only know this 10mph (16kph) pace and nothing else. But I really don't know what to do in order to improve my performance, especially now that I have a mental block on getting out and riding competitively. Maybe it's time to retire from this competitive cycling lark.....
If anyone has any ideas I'd be very interested to hear them. Answers on a postcard (as they used to say in the 1980s!)
Friday, 26 April 2013
Thursday, 25 April 2013
Escape to a Beautiful City (well, Florence actually!)
These days the weather in Milan is quite grim and unpredictable. One day the sun shines but then for the following 3 days it rains practically non-stop. While I don't mind riding in a bit of rain it begins to get frustrating when you get drenched for hours while apparently "doing your favourite outdoor activity!" Feeling a little tired of the wet stuff and the greyness in Milan I made a snap decision to travel to the nearest place I could get to and back in a day at reasonable cost and where the sun would be shining. The answer was Florence.
So, at the crack of dawn I jumped on a Freccia high-speed train* to see Giotto's bell tower. By 9.30am I was pedalling through the old narrow streets of the "city of lillies". Already, just being in one of the most beautiful cities in Italy made me feel good. Not only had the sun come out but the temperature was also a good deal warmer than in Milan. I also realised quite quickly that Milan is not Florence! The well-kept streets were bordered by beautiful architecture and neat shutters characteristic of the local area. There was also a distinct lack of graffitti on the walls and dog poo in the streets. Furthermore the Florentine air was clearer and the sunlight was brighter than the usual haziness experienced in Milan.
Don't get me wrong - Milan is nice, but Florence is delightful!
By 10am I was coasting along the strada provinciale in the sun heading for the Tuscany hills. My route was a small loop that went east to Pontassieve and then around the hills and woodland of the Vallombrosa area, and then back to Florence while taking in a northern detour via Fiesole. I was looking forward to riding this route as I found out that parts of it would coincide with stage 9 of this year's Giro d'Italia (San Sepolcro-Firenze). My intention was not to specifically ride the exact route. For me, just getting a feel for the area and experiencing a few of the local hills on this sunny day would be good enough. From Florence to Pontassieve the road was flat and fast, and provided a good warm-up. Once past the interchange at Pontassieve East the roads become quieter, narrower and started going upwards.
My work began by tackling the long climb from Pontassieve to the summit at Passo della Consuma. For me that meant more than an hour and a half of riding uphill, with just mountains, vineyards and crickets for company! I didn't see many cyclists riding up in the same direction as me. Either they were so much slower than me and much further back down the mountain, or they were alot faster than me and had left me for dust. It was probably the latter! However, I saw so many cyclists coming down in the opposite direction that this led me to believe that people had chosen to experience the climb to La Consuma in the same direction that the pros will on May 12th. Also the way that cyclists were cheering me as I ground up the hill, and they sped down the hill suggested that they may have been impressed that I was riding up to La Consuma via the harder side. I definitely had my work cut out for me!
The distance from Pontassieve to the summit was around 10 miles with a climb of around 7% in gradient. In practice the first 7 miles were harder than 7% and it was only in the last 3 miles that the false flat gave me any respite. The terrain was initially quite open with various cute guest houses and farms producing local items like olive oil and wine. Then further up, the scenery became a little more dramatic with higher mountains coming into view. The snow on the roads made me think I was travelling to another country. In fact the summit of La Consuma was no longer in the province of Florence, but in Arezzo. Despite the presence of snow, the place still felt springlike in the March sunshine.
Near the top of the climb was the right hand turn to Vallombrosa, but I chose to pass this turning and continue to the Passo in order to admire the beautiful views of the Tuscany hills. I must say the summit itself was not anything special. It was just like alot of other summits really - a mountain top with a sign covered in stickers from a multitude of cycling clubs, a car park and a cafe nearby. I guess it's only really when all the excitement of the spectators, the media, the promotional caravan and of course the peloton comes through that the place comes alive. I imagine this place will become something special on May 12th. Next I took the descent through the most beautiful part of the route, the Vallombrosa region. This ancient forested area with lots of beech trees and fir trees interspersed with mini rivers and streams was like a cyclist's dream with roads that constantly rolled gently downhill. These descending roads meant there was no need to pedal, and the slight slopes meant braking and cornering were easy enough so I was able to admire the spectacular woodland and rock formations around me. On a summer's day this would really be a lovely place to stop for a picnic. Vallombrosa village itself is very small but quaint. Its abbey and museum provide an attraction for quite a lot of visitors judging by the number of people stopping there. The main square is also big enough to welcome lots of spectators on the big day as the riders (hopefully) do a circuit around it before zooming onwards.
For the time being, my work on riding uphill was done as I continued to drop right down into the valley at Pontassieve while passing lots of pretty villages with various artisanal woodworking and furniture shops. On approaching Pontassieve the roads became a little bit busier and it was obvious that this was a big crossroads area for people going to different parts of Tuscany.
I therefore took a right hand turn through Compiobbi and asked a woman how far I was from Fiesole. "I'm not sure, she said - about 8km, but it will be all uphill. I hope you are ready!" I had to be. The first 2 miles were very tough and I had to grind hard out of the saddle. There were a few American tourists walking down through the nearby woodland area and they egged me on as I struggled my way up. Soon the road levelled off as I arrived at Montebeni. Thank God! This was probably the hardest climb of the day. It is not actually on the Giro d'Italia route. The stage 9 route would have been a road slightly to the east of where I was, but probably equally steep since it was in the same valley. I just hope the racers will enjoy the views!
After Ontignano the road became a false flat, and all along the way, my view to the left consisted of a beautiful panorama of the city of Florence below.
Finally arriving in the main piazza in front of the Duomo just as the sun was setting, I was able to enjoy my well-deserved ice cream while watching folks taking their passeggiatta.
The route I took can be found here.
*Bikes can be carried on Freccia high speed trains as long as they are in a bike bag and can be placed on a large luggage rack. Once I arrived in Florence I folded up my bike bag and put it in left luggage at the train station. Bikes can be carried on regional trains unwrapped, though you may need to buy a 24hour bike ticket.
Monday, 15 April 2013
Africans and Cycling - 2
In light of Gerald Ciolek's recent victory at the Milan-Sanremo bike race while riding for the African Team, MTN Qhubeka I thought I would revisit a subject which I previously wrote about - Africans and cycling.
Not only was Ciolek's first victory for an African professional cycling team (which only got into the Sanremo race on a wildcard), but the team actually included a black African racer, Songezo Jim. We have seen African racers like Chris Froome and Dan Craven participate in high profile professional events, but for once we saw the first ever participation of a black African guy in the Milan-Sanremo. He has documented his experience of participating in this year's epic edition of the event, which makes for quite interesting reading.
There have been black guys participate in other elite races on the UCI African Tour, and other races like the Tour of Rwanda and the Tour of Burkina Faso. At the London 2012 Olympics a number of racers from Eritrea, Morocco, Algeria and Rwanda also competed in cycle races.It seems that cycling is no longer being seen as a form of transportation for the poor, as was traditionally the case. More Africans are choosing to ride a bicycle for pleasure rather than cycling out of necessity.
Cycling can be a way of overcoming adversity, as is the case for Rwandan cyclist Adrien Niyonshuti. After losing most of his family at the age of seven in an attack on his village during the 1994 Rwandan genocide, Adrien found comfort in cycling. As a novice cyclist riding on an old steel bicycle through the Rwandan hills this gave Adrien a sense of freedom and a new focus.
Thanks to events organised in Rwanda by mountain bike pioneers Jock Boyer and Tom Ritchey, Adrien Niyonshuti took up off-road cycling more seriously and joined Team Rwanda which was set up and coached by the two Americans. The full story can now be seen in a new film, Rising From the Ashes, which shows the story behind team Rwanda and how cycling has given hope to the Rwandan genocide victims, including Adrien, who competed in the London 2012 Olympics. There have been different schemes to encourage cycling in Africa such as the Bikes 4 Africa scheme. Indeed, Team MTN Qhubeka race to raise the profile of children in African communities and donate bicycles to disadvantaged young people in South Africa who would like to take up cycling.
Where cycling was previously seen as something only done by certain classes in society, nowadays different types of people in Africa embracing this two-wheeled pleasure.As with many countries across the developed world, cycling is a great leveller. Two South African photographers and cycling aficionados Stan Engelbrecht and Nic Grobler, recently published a book entitled Bicycle Portraits, containing various photos that can be viewed on line. The book features ordinary people of all shapes, sizes and races who are bonded by the fact that they travel around by bicycle. (More on their project in this article.)
I for one, was very pleased to see the participation of Songezo Jim at the Milan-San Remo race this year. I hope that in time we will get to see more black Africans in World Tour professional races. Who knows, this could then lead to an African equivalent of the "Wiggo" effect (like what we saw in the UK after Bradley Wiggins won the Tour de France).
It seems cycling could be about to have a new image in Africa. I look forward to the time when cycling will firmly be seen as a "like to do" activity rather than a "will have to do" activity.
Tuesday, 9 April 2013
And the March Yellow Jersey goes to.....
Spartacus (aka Fabian Cancellara)
With a third podium finish in a row at this year's Milan-San Remo, a third victory on the cobbles at the E3 Harelbeke and a second victory at the Tour of Flanders (not to mention a victory in a classic track sprint in Paris-Roubaix in April) it was a no-brainer for me. I still find it amazing that someone who is known primarily as a dominant force in time-trialling can produce such results in the epic races of the Spring Classics. Oh, and he happens to be one of my favourite racers in the men's professional peloton
As a Londoner it was a great feeling to watch the professionals at the Tour de France prologue on the streets of London in 2007. Seeing Fabian Cancellara zoom up and down Constitution Hill and power to victory was so impressive. Without taking anything away from the other competitors on the day, I must say he looked so much stronger, smoother and faster than everyone else. His ride was so impressive, and it was no surprise that he finished the stage wearing the Maillot Jaune.
It was a shame he was not able to repeat his success at the London 2012 Olympics. Cancellara is known to have won almost everything that is possible to win in time-trialling. One notable absence though, is a victory in the Giro d'Italia. As I am currently in Milan it would be great to see Cancellara wear the Maglia Rosa at some point during the Corsa Rosa. I, for one would be very happy to see him do well at one of the time trials during the Italian grand tour.
Forza Spartacus!
With a third podium finish in a row at this year's Milan-San Remo, a third victory on the cobbles at the E3 Harelbeke and a second victory at the Tour of Flanders (not to mention a victory in a classic track sprint in Paris-Roubaix in April) it was a no-brainer for me. I still find it amazing that someone who is known primarily as a dominant force in time-trialling can produce such results in the epic races of the Spring Classics. Oh, and he happens to be one of my favourite racers in the men's professional peloton
As a Londoner it was a great feeling to watch the professionals at the Tour de France prologue on the streets of London in 2007. Seeing Fabian Cancellara zoom up and down Constitution Hill and power to victory was so impressive. Without taking anything away from the other competitors on the day, I must say he looked so much stronger, smoother and faster than everyone else. His ride was so impressive, and it was no surprise that he finished the stage wearing the Maillot Jaune.
It was a shame he was not able to repeat his success at the London 2012 Olympics. Cancellara is known to have won almost everything that is possible to win in time-trialling. One notable absence though, is a victory in the Giro d'Italia. As I am currently in Milan it would be great to see Cancellara wear the Maglia Rosa at some point during the Corsa Rosa. I, for one would be very happy to see him do well at one of the time trials during the Italian grand tour.
Forza Spartacus!
Monday, 25 March 2013
My moment of the week - 6
Classicisima Primavera!!
I have been to watch the Milan-Sanremo race a couple of times now. A few years ago Higg and I waited on the Cipressa climb to watch them go by. That was quite an experience, especially as it was the year that Mark Cavendish won.
Last year, shortly after I arrived in Milan I went to watch the riders at the start of the race. On both of these occasions the weather was generally spring-like.
Last Sunday week, once again, I went to watch the start. It's not far from my flat in Milan so I could just scoot over on my bike and be there within 10 minutes.
My colleagues' predictions were being borne out, as it was quite grim and rainy. In fact, I had made a point of doing my cycle training ride the day before, because I knew that Sunday's weather would be pants!
Despite the weather, many folks had nevertheless come out to watch. But I must say, it all looked rather grim at the Castello Sforsezco. The day was damp and grey, and the riders were all wrapped up, displaying a grave sense of foreboding on their faces.
I managed to snap a photo of one of my cycling heroes, Fabian Cancellara. Unfortunately for me, the result wasn't great - partly because I failed to instantly recognise him when he was all swaddled in a black overjacket and scarf, and partly because he shot by rather quickly in his characteristic Spartacus style!
Anyway, if people were moaning at the start of the race at the prospect of 300km in the rain, they must have been losing the will to live as they passed through Alexandria province in snow and hyperthermic conditions.
I am sure the guys must have been mighty relieved to have been told that they would be going over the Passo Turchino by bus, and they would not have to climb Le Manie either. But then getting back on the bike to resume racing after spending an hour trying to thaw yourself out and warm up must have been a mammoth task. I'm not surprised that grown men were crying on their bikes. When my colleagues had talked about bad weather is this what they really had meant?
Unsurprisingly, almost half the field dropped out of the race. Credit to Gerald Ciolek for a well deserved win. But, as 3rd placed Fabian Cancellara said at the finish line. "I may not have placed first but the fact that I have made it to Sanremo feels like a win. We were all winners today."
I felt very inspired by the guys who battled on through one of the worst conditions in a cycle race. Fair enough, they are paid to do this. But you still need to have a fighting spirit present within you to carry on when you can hardly feel your hands and your feet, or when you are shivering on your bike. I will aspire to have that spirit the next time I have a sporting challenge in apocalyptic conditions!
Back at work, my colleagues admitted that when they said bad weather, they had only meant wind and rain. Not even they could have imagined conditions as terrible as this during 104th edition of the Milan-Sanremo race!
Photos of how the day went including those incredible "spring" conditions have been captured here.
Oh, and spare a thought for the guys who did the race in 1910. Sixty three of them took the start line in pouring rain, which turned to snow. The route was not shortened and there was no bus to take the riders over the Passo del Turchino. The eventual winner, Eugene Christophe got so cold that he had to stop at a hotel to thaw himself out for some time before continuing. Only seven riders managed to complete the race, but unfortunately three of them were disqualified at the finish line! One guy missed the time cut-off. As for the other two, Luigi Ganna had done a few kilometres by car, and Piero Lampaggi was caught getting on a train. Thank Goodness race organisers are kinder these days!
I have been to watch the Milan-Sanremo race a couple of times now. A few years ago Higg and I waited on the Cipressa climb to watch them go by. That was quite an experience, especially as it was the year that Mark Cavendish won.
Last year, shortly after I arrived in Milan I went to watch the riders at the start of the race. On both of these occasions the weather was generally spring-like.
However, talking to my Italian colleagues at work they claimed that for them the Milan-Sanremo bike race was synonymous with bad weather. Even when spring is in the air and the weather is fine, you can be sure that on the day of the Sanremo race the weather turns cold and rainy.
Given my previous experiences I found it hard to believe them, but then again these people are Milanesis of a certain age so they will have witnessed more editions of this race than me.
Last Sunday week, once again, I went to watch the start. It's not far from my flat in Milan so I could just scoot over on my bike and be there within 10 minutes.
My colleagues' predictions were being borne out, as it was quite grim and rainy. In fact, I had made a point of doing my cycle training ride the day before, because I knew that Sunday's weather would be pants!
Despite the weather, many folks had nevertheless come out to watch. But I must say, it all looked rather grim at the Castello Sforsezco. The day was damp and grey, and the riders were all wrapped up, displaying a grave sense of foreboding on their faces.
I managed to snap a photo of one of my cycling heroes, Fabian Cancellara. Unfortunately for me, the result wasn't great - partly because I failed to instantly recognise him when he was all swaddled in a black overjacket and scarf, and partly because he shot by rather quickly in his characteristic Spartacus style!Anyway, if people were moaning at the start of the race at the prospect of 300km in the rain, they must have been losing the will to live as they passed through Alexandria province in snow and hyperthermic conditions.
I am sure the guys must have been mighty relieved to have been told that they would be going over the Passo Turchino by bus, and they would not have to climb Le Manie either. But then getting back on the bike to resume racing after spending an hour trying to thaw yourself out and warm up must have been a mammoth task. I'm not surprised that grown men were crying on their bikes. When my colleagues had talked about bad weather is this what they really had meant?
Unsurprisingly, almost half the field dropped out of the race. Credit to Gerald Ciolek for a well deserved win. But, as 3rd placed Fabian Cancellara said at the finish line. "I may not have placed first but the fact that I have made it to Sanremo feels like a win. We were all winners today."
I felt very inspired by the guys who battled on through one of the worst conditions in a cycle race. Fair enough, they are paid to do this. But you still need to have a fighting spirit present within you to carry on when you can hardly feel your hands and your feet, or when you are shivering on your bike. I will aspire to have that spirit the next time I have a sporting challenge in apocalyptic conditions!
Back at work, my colleagues admitted that when they said bad weather, they had only meant wind and rain. Not even they could have imagined conditions as terrible as this during 104th edition of the Milan-Sanremo race!
Photos of how the day went including those incredible "spring" conditions have been captured here.
Oh, and spare a thought for the guys who did the race in 1910. Sixty three of them took the start line in pouring rain, which turned to snow. The route was not shortened and there was no bus to take the riders over the Passo del Turchino. The eventual winner, Eugene Christophe got so cold that he had to stop at a hotel to thaw himself out for some time before continuing. Only seven riders managed to complete the race, but unfortunately three of them were disqualified at the finish line! One guy missed the time cut-off. As for the other two, Luigi Ganna had done a few kilometres by car, and Piero Lampaggi was caught getting on a train. Thank Goodness race organisers are kinder these days!
Sunday, 24 March 2013
Milan to Rapallo - The Long Saturday - Part 4 & Conclusion
After more twists and turns and drops I reached a T-junction with a main road. At this point there were streetlights and even a few cars. Not being entirely sure where I was, I consulted the map and found that I was in Cicagna. On the map it did not look far from the coast, but talking to the locals I realised I still had some way to go. And, guess what? More climbing!!
I popped into a bar where there were alot of people singing, dancing and merrymaking. It looked like the folks were having a salsa evening and people were speaking in Spanish. They were a little bemused to see a cycle tourist walking into their joint! "You want to go to Rapallo? Seriously, my friend. It's too far for you to travel. You've got a 10km climb up a steep hill and at this time of night going up that steep twisty road with no proper lights would be dangerous! Stay here, have a party. We have a spare room."
I still felt keen to stick to the plan. Anyway, my legs were too tired to do any salsa dancing and dancing in cycle racing shoes would look ridiculous, and may even be more dangerous! The woman then ended up having a debate with another reveller who seemed a bit drunk, but was suggesting that I ride 20km down to Chiavari and then ride up a shorter easier climb to Rapallo. I didn't really know who I should believe, but in any case I was fed up of cycling. It was after midnight. If I could find a taxi that would be the best solution for me.
The folks were friendly and they offered me a mojito, which made a change from the energy drinks I'd gotten a bit sick of. The guys were from Colombia and they were having an end of summer party. They were impressed at my cycling challenge, though the woman seemed worried about me. She probably thought I was half crazy! Maybe I was! The revellers wished me a safe journey, but not without warning me again not to take the direct road to Rapallo.
A few streets away I found an old man's local bar, and asked them about taxi ranks. Initially they said there was no firm in Cicagna, but if I headed 18km down the main road to Chiavari I would find taxi companies there and they could take me to Rapallo. I really wasn't in the mood to do any cycling. I had had enough of turning pedals. I asked if they had a telephone number of a firm but no one did.
The guys must have read the pained expression on my face when I realised I may have to do more riding. In the end, they called over another man who was a taxi driver but was not on duty that night. He agreed to take me to Rapallo. His usual catchment area was Genoa, but he would be able to take me to Rapallo. At that point Higg rang me, hoping to ask me how my ride had been. "You haven't arrived there yet??" He said, shocked. "But it must be going to 1 o'clock in the morning over there!"
"Er, yeah. But it's ok, I've found a guy who is going to give me a lift to the hotel." I explained to him.
He was mystified. "But what are you doing out riding at this time of the night, and who is this man?"
I was trying to talk to him but the taxi driver was asking me what time I wanted to leave. He was having a coffee and wanted to finish that before leaving. The bar man was also asking if I wanted a coffee, and the pals of the taxi driver were curiously asking about where I was from, how far I'd ridden etc. I couldn't properly answer Higg's questions while trying to make pleasantries in Italian with the blokes in the bar. Higg was a little annoyed at not being able to get proper answers from me, and being in London, powerless to help me out. The the last thing he heard from me, was when I told him I had to go, as I needed to load my bike into the taxi man's car.
The sight of a bona fide taxi cab gave me reassurance that this guy was not a crazy or a pervert, so I was happy to get in.
Rapallo was not far away - about 13km. However, it was quite a climb to get there. The taxi driver, who was called Giovanni, agreed that this would have been a pretty tough and dangerous climb to do at that time of night. It was different to the previous climb I had done from Montebruno. This climb to Rapallo was steeper to climb and to descend. It was narrower, twistier and the road surface was poor. I was quite relieved to be now sailing up this climb effortlessly!
We talked about different elite bike races in the area, and Giovanni mentioned the Milan-Rapallo cycle race that takes place in late September - a race I hadn't realised existed. Apparently it is roughly 210km, so not quite as long as the Milan-Sanremo but equally challenging. Again, the riders face a few climbs near the finish though they are tougher than the Poggio and Cipressa ascents of the Classica di Primavera.
I am sure that riding this section over to Rapallo during the day would have given some beautiful views of the sea below. The area looked quite dramatic, with lots of rocky outcrops mixed with palm trees and other interesting vegetation - at least that's what I could only vaguely make out at 1.30am!
Finally, I arrived at my hotel in Rapallo, forever grateful to Giovanni, who made sure I got there safely. The receptionist at the hotel was pleased and quite relieved to see me. "We knew you would arrive." (which probably meant they'd privately been worried about what had happened to me!)
I was pleased to see my bed, and the room looked very comfortable - exactly what I needed. From what I saw of Rapallo at almost 2 o'clock in the morning the place had a Riviera feel about it. I went to bed, looking forward to what I would see in the morning - but not without texting Higg to let him know I had reached my destination safely. My long Saturday was finally over!
Conclusion
Overall, I enjoyed my ride, but as you have probably gathered, it was a little bit long! I made a few mistakes in the mapping out of my ride. I did not have a GPS and I had not researched the route properly beforehand. I completely miscalculated the distance - which was almost 210km - and the amount of climbing, which was God knows how many metres! My lack of fitness had not helped either.
Thankfully, I had set out with a back-up pack in case of the unexpected (as I usually do). The fact that I did this ride on a sunny day in September when the days were still reasonably long meant that conditions were not too miserable!
Finally, the people I talked to along the way were very helpful, friendly and kind. That made all the difference to this trip.
I would not set out to go through these inconveniences again, and maybe I should put a "don't try this at home label". However, when I look back at it I think it was quite an interesting and somewhat fulfilling adventure. It doesn't do much harm to test yourself sometimes. And I did not come out too badly in the end. Though next time, I think I will do some Salsa dancing in Cicagna!
Related posts
Milan to Rapallo - The Long Saturday - Part 1
Milan to Rapallo - The Long Saturdaay - Part 2
Milan to Rapallo - The Long Saturday - Part 3
I popped into a bar where there were alot of people singing, dancing and merrymaking. It looked like the folks were having a salsa evening and people were speaking in Spanish. They were a little bemused to see a cycle tourist walking into their joint! "You want to go to Rapallo? Seriously, my friend. It's too far for you to travel. You've got a 10km climb up a steep hill and at this time of night going up that steep twisty road with no proper lights would be dangerous! Stay here, have a party. We have a spare room."
I still felt keen to stick to the plan. Anyway, my legs were too tired to do any salsa dancing and dancing in cycle racing shoes would look ridiculous, and may even be more dangerous! The woman then ended up having a debate with another reveller who seemed a bit drunk, but was suggesting that I ride 20km down to Chiavari and then ride up a shorter easier climb to Rapallo. I didn't really know who I should believe, but in any case I was fed up of cycling. It was after midnight. If I could find a taxi that would be the best solution for me.
The folks were friendly and they offered me a mojito, which made a change from the energy drinks I'd gotten a bit sick of. The guys were from Colombia and they were having an end of summer party. They were impressed at my cycling challenge, though the woman seemed worried about me. She probably thought I was half crazy! Maybe I was! The revellers wished me a safe journey, but not without warning me again not to take the direct road to Rapallo.
A few streets away I found an old man's local bar, and asked them about taxi ranks. Initially they said there was no firm in Cicagna, but if I headed 18km down the main road to Chiavari I would find taxi companies there and they could take me to Rapallo. I really wasn't in the mood to do any cycling. I had had enough of turning pedals. I asked if they had a telephone number of a firm but no one did.
The guys must have read the pained expression on my face when I realised I may have to do more riding. In the end, they called over another man who was a taxi driver but was not on duty that night. He agreed to take me to Rapallo. His usual catchment area was Genoa, but he would be able to take me to Rapallo. At that point Higg rang me, hoping to ask me how my ride had been. "You haven't arrived there yet??" He said, shocked. "But it must be going to 1 o'clock in the morning over there!"
"Er, yeah. But it's ok, I've found a guy who is going to give me a lift to the hotel." I explained to him.
He was mystified. "But what are you doing out riding at this time of the night, and who is this man?"
I was trying to talk to him but the taxi driver was asking me what time I wanted to leave. He was having a coffee and wanted to finish that before leaving. The bar man was also asking if I wanted a coffee, and the pals of the taxi driver were curiously asking about where I was from, how far I'd ridden etc. I couldn't properly answer Higg's questions while trying to make pleasantries in Italian with the blokes in the bar. Higg was a little annoyed at not being able to get proper answers from me, and being in London, powerless to help me out. The the last thing he heard from me, was when I told him I had to go, as I needed to load my bike into the taxi man's car.
The sight of a bona fide taxi cab gave me reassurance that this guy was not a crazy or a pervert, so I was happy to get in.
Rapallo was not far away - about 13km. However, it was quite a climb to get there. The taxi driver, who was called Giovanni, agreed that this would have been a pretty tough and dangerous climb to do at that time of night. It was different to the previous climb I had done from Montebruno. This climb to Rapallo was steeper to climb and to descend. It was narrower, twistier and the road surface was poor. I was quite relieved to be now sailing up this climb effortlessly!
 |
| Rapallo - not a bad view to wake up to |
I am sure that riding this section over to Rapallo during the day would have given some beautiful views of the sea below. The area looked quite dramatic, with lots of rocky outcrops mixed with palm trees and other interesting vegetation - at least that's what I could only vaguely make out at 1.30am!
Finally, I arrived at my hotel in Rapallo, forever grateful to Giovanni, who made sure I got there safely. The receptionist at the hotel was pleased and quite relieved to see me. "We knew you would arrive." (which probably meant they'd privately been worried about what had happened to me!)
I was pleased to see my bed, and the room looked very comfortable - exactly what I needed. From what I saw of Rapallo at almost 2 o'clock in the morning the place had a Riviera feel about it. I went to bed, looking forward to what I would see in the morning - but not without texting Higg to let him know I had reached my destination safely. My long Saturday was finally over!
Conclusion
Overall, I enjoyed my ride, but as you have probably gathered, it was a little bit long! I made a few mistakes in the mapping out of my ride. I did not have a GPS and I had not researched the route properly beforehand. I completely miscalculated the distance - which was almost 210km - and the amount of climbing, which was God knows how many metres! My lack of fitness had not helped either.
Thankfully, I had set out with a back-up pack in case of the unexpected (as I usually do). The fact that I did this ride on a sunny day in September when the days were still reasonably long meant that conditions were not too miserable!
Finally, the people I talked to along the way were very helpful, friendly and kind. That made all the difference to this trip.
I would not set out to go through these inconveniences again, and maybe I should put a "don't try this at home label". However, when I look back at it I think it was quite an interesting and somewhat fulfilling adventure. It doesn't do much harm to test yourself sometimes. And I did not come out too badly in the end. Though next time, I think I will do some Salsa dancing in Cicagna!
Related posts
Milan to Rapallo - The Long Saturday - Part 1
Milan to Rapallo - The Long Saturdaay - Part 2
Milan to Rapallo - The Long Saturday - Part 3
Friday, 22 March 2013
Milan to Rapallo - The Long Saturday - Part 3
Not wanting to dwell too much on the fact that my day of climbing was still not over, I set about riding uphill. The gradient was steep and very quickly the Saturday night revellers in Montebruno became a small detail a long way below me. The road went into woodland and there were no longer any streetlights. It was scary. No way would I be able to ride through that!
So I dropped back down to return to the village and ask the locals about taxi firms. The old boys in the bar gave me very intriguing looks as I walked in. To them, I might as well have been a martian. I guess cycling Lycra can hardly be described as typical Saturday night glad rags!
When I told the folks where I was headed they immediately told me not to bother. At this rate I wouldn't get to Rapallo until the following day! There was no taxi firm in the village, so I would have to contact a company in Rapallo or Genoa and it would cost me a fortune. I should stop giving myself a hard time and just stay in Montebruno. They knew a lady who ran a B&B - I could stay there.
I was duly pointed in the direction of the hostellerie, and knocked at their door - silence. I rang the bell, and asked a few locals if they knew of any other B&Bs in Montebruno, but this was the only one. There had been a village festival that day so many people, including the proprietor of the B&B had gone out for the night.
When I rang the taxi firm they confirmed what the locals had said. The fare would cost a fortune - 200euros!
So, there was only one thing for it - ride over the hill. By this time it was around 10.30pm. I rang the hotel in Rapallo to say I was still on my way. The man I spoke to didn't seem phased at all, even though I said I was on my bike in Montebruno. It was probably the night porter who answered the phone and he may have just thought that Montebruno was a suburb of Rapallo!
It's a good job I had remembered my motto from the Scouts - "be prepared". I put on my flourescent jacket, some city lights and wolfed down some cereal bars had a swig of energy drink and set off. Even though I had taken precautions in case of unexpected events, I still felt pretty scared.
Every sound through the trees gave me the jitters. I suddenly kept thinking some strange creatures might leap out and bite me. Even a bogey man might grab me and drag me away somewhere. Sometimes I'd jump at the sight of my shadow when I suddenly passed a farm with its lights on.
The road twisted and turned and my lights were not bright enough to show the the road surface in detail. The only sure thing I knew was that the road was going up! I needed to watch out for where there might be potholes or ruts or gravel in the road. At one point the bike went over a big rut, and I was sure I'd got a puncture. Thankfully, the bike was fine.
About two thirds up the climb I stopped for another snack as I passed through a hamlet. A little dog came up to me and sniffed around curiously. I thought it might have barked at the sight of a stranger in his manor, but he was friendly. Some people who were returning to their home after dining in another house across the street saw me and bid me good evening, like it was the most natural thing in the world to see a cyclist sitting at the side of the street in their village at 11.30 on a Saturday night. Maybe it was normal, and I was just making a fuss over nothing! Afterall, I had never been on these country roads late at night before. How would I know what was customary practice in these strange parts?!
Eventually, the road plunged downhill. Thank God. Sadly, I couldn't enjoy it since my eyes were peeled, focused solidly on every hairpin as the road girated through the pitch black. It was quite cold and an autumn fog had now descended. I was glad I had high vis clothing, and also an extra coat. Although I was going downhill for over half an hour, I had no idea which way I was facing. I had expected to see something glistening in the distance that looked like the sea. But all I saw were trees.
In fact, it looked as though I was even going further inland and away from the coast. It was pitch black so there was no chance of reading a map. I had come up to a few junctions and not been entirely sure which way to go so I had plumped for a right turn on a hunch that this road led towards the sea. Could I have missed a turn? Might I be heading back towards Montebruno? I wanted to panic, but realised I really needed to keep myself together. There was no one around, and I had to somehow make sure I arrived somewhere that had warm, indoor accommodation!
Related posts
Milan to Rapallo - The Long Saturday - Part 1
Milan to Rapallo - The Long Saturday - Part 2
Milan to Rapallo - The Long Saturday - Part 4 & Conclusion
So I dropped back down to return to the village and ask the locals about taxi firms. The old boys in the bar gave me very intriguing looks as I walked in. To them, I might as well have been a martian. I guess cycling Lycra can hardly be described as typical Saturday night glad rags!
When I told the folks where I was headed they immediately told me not to bother. At this rate I wouldn't get to Rapallo until the following day! There was no taxi firm in the village, so I would have to contact a company in Rapallo or Genoa and it would cost me a fortune. I should stop giving myself a hard time and just stay in Montebruno. They knew a lady who ran a B&B - I could stay there.
I was duly pointed in the direction of the hostellerie, and knocked at their door - silence. I rang the bell, and asked a few locals if they knew of any other B&Bs in Montebruno, but this was the only one. There had been a village festival that day so many people, including the proprietor of the B&B had gone out for the night.
When I rang the taxi firm they confirmed what the locals had said. The fare would cost a fortune - 200euros!
So, there was only one thing for it - ride over the hill. By this time it was around 10.30pm. I rang the hotel in Rapallo to say I was still on my way. The man I spoke to didn't seem phased at all, even though I said I was on my bike in Montebruno. It was probably the night porter who answered the phone and he may have just thought that Montebruno was a suburb of Rapallo!
It's a good job I had remembered my motto from the Scouts - "be prepared". I put on my flourescent jacket, some city lights and wolfed down some cereal bars had a swig of energy drink and set off. Even though I had taken precautions in case of unexpected events, I still felt pretty scared.
Every sound through the trees gave me the jitters. I suddenly kept thinking some strange creatures might leap out and bite me. Even a bogey man might grab me and drag me away somewhere. Sometimes I'd jump at the sight of my shadow when I suddenly passed a farm with its lights on.
The road twisted and turned and my lights were not bright enough to show the the road surface in detail. The only sure thing I knew was that the road was going up! I needed to watch out for where there might be potholes or ruts or gravel in the road. At one point the bike went over a big rut, and I was sure I'd got a puncture. Thankfully, the bike was fine.
About two thirds up the climb I stopped for another snack as I passed through a hamlet. A little dog came up to me and sniffed around curiously. I thought it might have barked at the sight of a stranger in his manor, but he was friendly. Some people who were returning to their home after dining in another house across the street saw me and bid me good evening, like it was the most natural thing in the world to see a cyclist sitting at the side of the street in their village at 11.30 on a Saturday night. Maybe it was normal, and I was just making a fuss over nothing! Afterall, I had never been on these country roads late at night before. How would I know what was customary practice in these strange parts?!
Eventually, the road plunged downhill. Thank God. Sadly, I couldn't enjoy it since my eyes were peeled, focused solidly on every hairpin as the road girated through the pitch black. It was quite cold and an autumn fog had now descended. I was glad I had high vis clothing, and also an extra coat. Although I was going downhill for over half an hour, I had no idea which way I was facing. I had expected to see something glistening in the distance that looked like the sea. But all I saw were trees.
In fact, it looked as though I was even going further inland and away from the coast. It was pitch black so there was no chance of reading a map. I had come up to a few junctions and not been entirely sure which way to go so I had plumped for a right turn on a hunch that this road led towards the sea. Could I have missed a turn? Might I be heading back towards Montebruno? I wanted to panic, but realised I really needed to keep myself together. There was no one around, and I had to somehow make sure I arrived somewhere that had warm, indoor accommodation!
Related posts
Milan to Rapallo - The Long Saturday - Part 1
Milan to Rapallo - The Long Saturday - Part 2
Milan to Rapallo - The Long Saturday - Part 4 & Conclusion
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