Back by popular demand, and for one post only – here goes with the promised ‘Welcome Home’ summary of our adventures in Italy.

It’s almost 3 months now since we got back, and for the most part, our bikes have been resting.

Hats off to Andy for riding from Chesterfield to Skegness and back in August – I think he got a little lost en route and ended up cycling further than he needed – something about riding off ahead – sound familiar?

So far Mark and I have only managed a tootle to the reservoir for a picnic. Given that we run up there most weeks, I won’t pretend to call it a ride, more like a stretch!

With Mark about to cycle part of the Tour de France (Yorkshire) route at the weekend, now seems to be a good opportunity to reflect on our amazing trip. I have just been flicking back through the blog. I have to say that I have enjoyed reading it back as much as you guys all appear to have enjoyed reading it while we were there. It’s a diary of the trip, which I will look back on long after the memories fade. And talking of fading, the tan lines, which were the subject of much mocking when we got back, are only just visible now, on my hands at least – I still have white ‘shorts’.

We celebrated our finishing night at a fabulous Mexican restaurant in Catania. I think it was particularly welcome simply for not being more Italian food. I never thought it would be possible to eat too much pizza and pasta, but everyone has a fill line, and I certainly found mine. When we arrived at the restaurant, the area around our final apartment was experiencing a power cut. With the offer of margaritas and a supply of corn chips to munch on while we waited for the electricity (and a restaurant with a pizza oven next door, just in case) we were more than happy to perch at a table outside.

The evening was one of those unplanned occasions that turns out to be fantastic. With Tequila flowing, the power returning, delicious food, new found friends…

…and sombreros (from who knows where), we were properly able to let our hair down, safe in the knowledge that the legs would not be needed for cycling in the morning.

It may not come as much of a surprise that we decided against cycling up Etna. It would have been possible but it was so far from where we were staying that it would have taken all day to get there. It may come as less of a surprise, that not all of us made it up the volcano. Actually, Tequila was not to blame – Andy, Ian and Christine decided they would sight see round Catania instead of getting up early for the tour.

When Mark and I got back, having experienced amazing scenery and an informative trip, the guys were sprawled out in the apartment. Apparently they had made it out for lunch and a wander round the fish market, but that’s about all.

We whiled away the rest of the afternoon in Catania’s town square, watching the world go by (and when I say the world – everyone we had met in Catania passed us and stopped to say Hello), sipping coffee, and of course, prosecco.

Our last evening wasn’t much to speak of, maybe not surprising after the events of the night before. In summary – what goes on tour, stays on tour!

Christine had the first flight home so Mark cycled with her to the airport on Sunday morning. The Italian check-in staff were much less obliging than they had been in Manchester and wanted us to take the pedals, front wheels, and handlebars off our bikes. With calls back from Mark for more tape to seal the bike bags, and at one point, an urgent request to try and locate more tools after the cleaner had done his job a little too thoroughly, Ian, Andy and I were not long after in setting off for our final ride. Luckily, the one shop that was open on Sunday morning sold tape, and Mark had managed to locate said cleaner and recover his tools. Cunningly turning our handlebars ended up being enough to persuade the check-in lady to take our bikes without removing them (for all the space that would have saved) but she did have to come round the desk to make sure that we had actually taken the wheels and pedals off – she had evidently never ridden a bike.

With an easy flight and just enough space in a black cab for our bikes when we were down to just 2…

…we made it home – for a rest.

So, to summarise

3000 feet high
1000 miles travelled
841 miles ridden
96 miles – longest day
47 degrees hot

47 mph – fastest downhill
13 full days on the bike
8 bike repairs – and a new bike for Andy before we even started

2 rivers crossed

1 ravine…

…canine incidents, haribo, gelato, beer and prosecco – too many to count,

and finally, a song to sum up the experience – Miley Cyrus’ “The Climb”. You will have to trust me on this. Listen carefully to the words and you will understand.

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Day 13 – Pizzo to Catania (Sicily)

With 841 miles cycled we have made up the rest of our 1000 miles by transporting our cycles to Sicily in something akin to a military operation; although maybe not quite as slick.

I clearly recall my A level history teacher (Mr Griggs for those Waltonians reading this) telling us, although the details are hazy, that between the wars, when they were constructed, “the railways provided the stitching for the Italian boot”. I can still see him tapping his foot as he said it.

The Lonely Planet guide to cycling in Italy suggested something more complicated and indicated that not all trains let you on with bikes, that the bike car might be one end or the other, that the trains did not wait more than a minute in the station, and that if you were needed to persuade the train guards to let you on you would have a better chance if you were a girl- and cried. Ready to practice our best tears on demand, Christine and I have been almost disappointed that the last snippet of information has not been called in to use.

It’s not been easy though.

We pedalled 3 miles to Pizzo station where our final adventure began when we arrived at a very closed looking station, which had weeds growing through the train tracks. It doesn’t look like it’s been used in years.

Luckily there were 2 men playing cards who seemed to know what was going on and an electronic sign confirming our train was leaving about half an hour late. There was no information to direct us to a platform but it was clear that the middle line of the 3 is the only one that is used. We caused a nuisance getting on the train and completely blocking the entrance/exit, until the guard helped us manhandle the bikes in to a small compartment at the end.

The train took us to Rosarno, where we had to wait an hour due to missing our connection to the ferry terminal. It was kind of lucky because we had to sneakily cross the train track when the guard from our train (who had crossed it himself and then told us not to) wasn’t looking, to avoid a long flight of stairs.

So, train 2, this time with a bicycle car at each end, and we arrived at the edge of the sea once again, with Sicily in our midst.

We’ve crossed rivers and ravines but the solution for the sea was much simpler. A short ferry ride and we had made it to Sicily. Then for another train ride to Catania. And that’s it.

Venice to Sicily. An adventure that will stay in the memory long after the ridiculous cycling tan lines fade.

No doubt getting the bikes back home will provide it’s own challenge so I shall save a final post for when we return to Blighty and Basel.

But for now, we are on holiday. Mount Etna tomorrow, and the question remains: to ride or not to ride?

We have arrived. Our last proper day of cycling is over and our b&b tonight is over a gelato shop – heaven. According to the research we did before we came, Pizzo is the home of Italian ice cream, so we were expecting an array of flavours and we have not been disappointed.

The ride was pretty uneventful as rides for us go. We avoided the big hill, which was a town that the main road took us around, and enjoyed a reasonably flat road for the last 66 miles along the coast.

We only had a brief lunch stop with the intention of having 1 course and getting back on the road but the restaurant provided us a 3 course meal, for the price of 1.

The last miles passed at a reasonable 17mph average and then, that was it. At the moment it feels something of an anticlimax but I guess that’s because we have not quite finished.

Tomorrow is all about the train to take us the last leg to Sicily, but for tonight we are chilling: we’ve enjoyed a swim in the sea, Ian and Mark helped a lady push her car out of the beach, Christine broke a plastic chair in the seaside cafe, and now we eat.

Day 11 – Sala Consilina to Cetaro

An 80 mile day today and we were all running on empty after yesterday’s adventure. Roberto and his family made us an amazing breakfast, including a cake baked specially that morning. We were overwhelmed by the service given that we were unexpected.

The biggest hills were in the morning and we reached our highest height of 3000 feet. This lead to lots of long, gentle downhills. Then we came to a turning that was flagged on the garmin. One way was 12 miles up on the main road. The other, was more interesting. 2 miles in to the unknown, which started with Tarmac. That didn’t last long and we were off roading again. Then came some really steep hills which saw all of us pushing our bikes at some point. I’m sure it did save time and the road was pretty but in the muggy heat it was not fun, and you couldn’t call it cycling.

Tired as we tried to find somewhere to eat lunch we travelled alongside a turquoise sea and had to stop at a petrol station bar to put some fuel in to keep us going. Even when we found a town the restaurants were all closed at 4:40 pm so we had paninis in another bar. Not quite enough to perk us up for the afternoon.

Andy earned the good boy badge today for getting us through the 35 miles we still had to go after ‘lunch’ in record time, meaning we arrived at our hotel by 7:30 pm.

We are now enjoying a pizza and pasta free meal of pork schnitzel and salad (chips for boys), and for Ian and I at least, our 4th ice cream of the day. Callippo in the bar at the end of a big climb, magnum at the petrol station, gelato at lunch, and local gelato for pudding.

Last day on the bike tomorrow. My legs cannot wait.

Day 10 – Salerno to Sala Consilina

Our 57 mile (shortest) day started with the wheel fitting back on my bike, only minor issue with the gears not sitting quite right but I can live with that. Having realised in the process that Mark had been carrying the wrong inner tube for mine and Ian’s bikes we stopped at a bike shop on the way to replace the useless one. Before Mark and I caught up the rest of the guys, as misfortune would have it, Andy got a puncture. I’m amazed that he lasted that long without marathon tyres and with all the off roading we have been doing.

The upside was that we were opposite a roadside cafe so we sampled the chocolate treats as the temperature registering on the garmin reached 47 degrees.

Bike fixed, we pressed on for some inevitable off roading. Frustratingly, Andy had more bike issues, which Mark had to sort out before we headed in to the hills in a steaming 40 degrees. The reward for all the up was the most amazing, clear downhill on which, even I managed 37 mph. Mark reached the top speed – ever; 47 mph and then freaked out and slowed down. I should mention that the speed limit on the road was 50 kph!

All this was before lunch at a truck stop in the middle of nowhere which caused Ian to tell us that he ‘would have been a great cowboy’ in the atmosphere of a spaghetti western. Christine was served a dubious looking mint tea. This must be lost in translation as it’s the second time that’s happened.

All day we has to contend with dogs yapping at our heels, including some particularly scabby, rabid looking things as we headed uphill. That always makes for some fast peddling.

Once in the hills, having ignored a road closure sign, and passed a pack of dogs armed with a large stick, we pressed on to avoid the official detour on the motorway (bikes not allowed). This turned in to our second Top Gear esq adventure.

What do you do when the road bridge has collapsed and your options are to press on anyway or take an obscene detour? Press on of course. We had to cross the ravine on foot. It was akin to crossing the Grand Canyon with the bikes.

We made it across though, with lots of time chewed up, and pressed on.

Being acutely aware that the biggest hill of the day, and possibly the trip, was still to come, and with our water supply running low, we took a slight detour to find a bar and talked nicely to the owner who opened for us and provided drinks and filled our bottles. We got chatting to a few locals who were milling about and told them what we were about to do. One man offered up a prayer, which should give you some idea of what we were facing – 5k of up and up and up. Several people tooted their horns in support and one man pulled over and offered us water.

At the top, Ian earned the ouch badge for a less than graceful fall after Mark turned in front of him. He had time to swear but forgot to un clip his feet.

As we continued with the last up to the hotel the garmin tried to take us up steps- yeah right. We struggled to locate the hotel and sought assistance from a man who appeared to know everything that was going on in the town. He told us that there were no reservations in the hotel that night. Somehow that turned out to be true when we eventually got hold of the proprietor. With the help of google translate the lovely Roberto told us that the b&b was closed and that there had been a mix up with the dates, which left them waiting for us last month. However he was going to get the cleaning lady to come and prepare the rooms and then he provided us with juice. The b&b itself, St Peter’s tower, was amazing, and enjoyed stunning views over the countryside.

Not wanting to be in the way we went out for dinner in our Lycra. We caused a bit of a stir in the town just after Italy went out of the World Cup. Luckily the locals soon realised we weren’t German and joined the boys in commiserating.

The only restaurant we could find in an otherwise bustling town, was down a steep hill and provided more pizza, more meat, more bread, and more mozzarella. We got told off by the waitress for not finishing our food and at one point I thought she was going to make us stay until we had finished.

We headed back to the hotel for showers and bed, and to use the washing machine. As we were sorting ourselves out the lights went out and we were plunged in to darkness. After checking out 3 fuse boxes without success we tried to call Roberto. He didn’t get our messages but Andy caught him walking past outside and he sorted us out, just as we were thinking we would have to go to bed in the dark, with the garmins not charged, and our clothes held hostage in the washing machine.

Finally to bed, exhausted. Hence the lack of post yesterday.

Day 9 – Caserta to Salerno

Today’s ride has been interesting, not for the scenery or the hills but for the drama of cycling on the outskirts of Naples. We had heard before leaving home that Naples was a nightmare for driving but nothing could have prepared us for the terrifying and exhilarating ride through the poorest city in the country. There were cars coming from every direction but you start to learn to keep on going at a steady pace and pretend to ignore everyone else on the road, while at the same time keeping a close eye on the next car coming out from the kerb or side road. To make things even more entertaining the road was cobbled; small cobbles and then massive cobbles, all of which made for a very very bumpy ride.

On route and whilst on a slip road we passed the most disturbing road kill of the trip. So far we have seen the usual small animals, several dogs and foxes. Today was a, not so long squished, snake – gross.

Lunch was takeaway again just outside Pompeii, where we managed a 2 hour sightseeing mission around the remains of Vesuvius’ destruction.

The afternoon ride was equally difficult but concentrating on staying alive made the miles pass quickly and we finished at a very reasonable 7pm. Somehow the afternoon route was made easier by avoiding the big hill and we still had the reward of the sweeping downhill towards the sea. Our last few miles were along the sea front, nice and chilled.

Of course we did not manage the day without a bike event. I noticed an issue this morning with my feet not quite getting traction and the bike cluncking every so often but throughout the day the problem got worse, to the point where I was unable to push off when I stopped. When we arrived at the hotel Mark diagnosed the problem as the hub in my back wheel being wrecked. He can fix it, but he didn’t bring the tools due to the weight. Luckily I had spotted a decathlon sign on the way in to Salerno so I was hopeful that the problem could be resolved. Although we have seen many decathlon signs but not yet seen the store.

The hotel receptionist was able to order me and Mark a taxi and negotiate with the driver to wait for us and bring us back to the hotel (the shop was about 20 minutes drive). We were able to communicate the problem to the staff at decathlon and we were told that they didn’t do that operation on site, that they would need to send the wheel to the lab, and it would take about a week. We explained that was not an option and asked for a new wheel. Luckily they had the right size in stock – the benefits of having a Btwin (decathlon) bike, and the guys said they could attach my cassette to the new wheel. Frustratingly the guys, who put the wheel in the vice to loosen the nut, managed to tighten it so much they had to call a colleague with some upper body strength to loosen it with the correct tools. The guys were extremely helpful though and managed to fit my cassette to the new wheel, while Mark could only look on, biting his lip when he tried to help and they wouldn’t let him. We haven’t tried to put the wheel back on the bike yet but all I can say is that decathlon saved me today. The service was above and beyond our expectations and we came away with problem solved in about 30 minutes.

Meanwhile the rest of the group found a bar/restaurant beside the sea. When Mark and I caught up with them they were tucking in to gorgeous steak and presented us with beer and prosseco – perfect.

Day 8 – Ceprano – Caserta

The route was unknown until we hit the road today because Mark had to do some interesting plotting to cope with the ridiculous garmin technology that did not want to find the roads. When we got an accurate plot we have actually ridden 65.

We started out with the now to be expected off roading. What we did not expect was the river blocking our path. Mark says he checked all the route on google earth but I think he sneezed at that point. Anyway, it was a test in teamwork. Ian found a way to cross and with shoes off we carried the bikes and kit separately and made it across without incident.

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It did chew up some time though so we had only hit 25 miles at lunchtime.

We had lunch in a restaurant that looked us up and down and were very happy that we asked to sit outside. 5 smelly, Lycra clad people were clearly not their usually clientele. As is always the issue in a nice restaurant, there is no sense of urgency about eating so it was almost 2 hours before we were able to crack on.

The road after lunch was hot and bumpy but we managed to make really good time and complete the last 40 miles in 3 hours.

Our hotel tonight is a friendly b&b, who provided us with water and sweets as soon as we arrived, have just done our washing, and given us a bowl of delicious plums they picked from the tree this morning.

Here there is a washing line to hang out the clothes so we have avoided lowering the tone by hanging it out of the windows, which is what happened last night.

Day 7 – Rome to Ceprano

Today started with a mad rush to get the 5 of us up and out of the apartment in time for breakfast and an hour of sight seeing in Rome. We took in the Colosseum, Spanish steps and the Trevi Fountain. Somewhat disappointingly the sights of Rome appear to be undergoing refurbishments and all have had some sort of scaffolding. The fountain was dry and surrounded by plastic panels. Still, we did it. Then we set off for a 68 miler, in 36 degree heat, primarily along the SS6, and with the biggest hill before lunch.

Lunch was a takeaway pizza followed by 3 scoops of amazing gelato. The terrain evened out for a while and we made good time this afternoon.

The day has had it’s events but no dramas. No one has fallen and we have been dry all day. We did have to stop to let some sheep pass as we rode through some farmland and Mark had to tinker with Andy’s bike some more but that just proved to be an entertaining break. Ian, Christine and I decided that we would wait with our feet in the cool gushing stream by the road until a lady came out from the house next to it and told us that it was infected, or something that sounded like that. She then disappeared and returned a short while later with a hose pipe, which we obligingly used to wash our feet. As we did so 2 gorgeous little kittens came to say hello so I was somewhat distracted with cat cuddles until well after the bikes were ready – happy days.

We carried on and with 15 miles to go stopped to rehydrate at a rather shady looking bar just off a roundabout with nothing else around. The bar lady was lovely though and filled our bottles, and added ice!

The last 15 miles included a few spikes, which were exhausting and fun all at once. Spinning is really paying off.

We have reached our hotel in 1 piece and we are shortly off to find dinner.

When in Rome with a bicycle you have to have eyes in the back of your head, the side of your head, and everywhere else as well. The drivers here are crazy, as are the moped drivers, and the pedestrians. Makes for some scary miles, where concentration is everything.

Today started out with a gorgeous downhill towards the sea as we left Tarquina. The road was easy going and the sun quickly dried the damp shoes leftover from yesterday. We managed a fantastic pace this morning and had time for an ice cream by the sea.

The speedy start continued and we made it to an early lunch about 12, beside the seaside, with 36 miles ridden and the half way point crossed. I have to say that we enjoyed the best food that we’ve ever eaten in a beach cafe.

After lunch things continued to go well. No rain and no falls. The terrain as we got closer to Rome became undulating but we were on the outskirts of the city before today’s adventure began. Mark’s chain snapped and in trying to fix it, so did the tool. I understand it sparked.

Andy was kind enough to wait for him (good boy badge for him) and they ended up pushing/ free wheeling for the 6 miles to our apartment. The rest of us continued on Mark’s well planned sight seeing tour of the city, which took us past the Vatican and the Colosseum. Unfortunately we were not quite in the right frame of mind by that point and, with the detour and hustle and bustle / chaos of tourists, locals, and football fans (including an old man in an Italy shirt trying to header a ball across a zebra crossing) we arrived at the apartment only a short time before Mark and Andy. We did manage a quick tourist snap with the bikes though.

Luckily the guy who owns the apartment was able to point us in the direction of a bike shop and Mark fixed his chain in about 5 minutes. Andy’s bike, which has had gear issues today, took a bit longer. (Good boy nomination for Mark)

We headed out for a late dinner to the recommended restaurant, which was lovely, but they were clearly having staffing issues due to the football and dinner took forever. Apparently they usually only have reservations at the weekend so not really sure why they let us in. When we tried to ask for the bill the chef, who was also waiting tables, offered us some grappe as an apology, which was very sweet but meant we had to wait even longer before we could escape. Unfortunately the delays have put to bed all plans of sight seeing today. We have decided to get up early and see what we can tomorrow, because, when in Rome, there are places you just have to visit.

As England crash out of the World Cup I shall close with a pic from last night’s bar.

And now to bed – we have a tourist hour in the early a.m.

Day 5 – Grosseto to Tarquina

As I write today’s post I am sipping prosecco in a bar that has a whole rack of haribo and the England match on a big screen. It looks more like a kebab shop but when all your needs are met, who cares.

As per usual the ride has been eventful. We set off after a lie in which has perked us all up and then enjoyed miles and miles of beautiful sunshine and a relatively flat road. Happy days; until…

Andy, giving Christine a push up a hill, misjudged the push off and ended up sending Christine in to the grass verge and hitting the ground with a thud. The rest of us heard the scream and looked back to find them picking themselves up. Unfortunately Andy landed on the same arm as his previous fall and is now somewhat achy. Ian was quick to hand over the ouch badge. Luckily both are ok, although I suspect Andy will hurt in the morning.

Fortunately we stopped for a drink and supplies around midday. After that, with the aim of riding for another hour and finding lunch, we set off in to the countryside and it has been beautiful and barren. Nowhere to stop until we reached our destination. Off road again and this time down a dirt track that saw me and Ian pushing our bikes for about a mile. We had to ford a river at the beginning then, at the end, Ian earned the good boy badge by saving me from a wolf. Well it was a really really big dog that was disturbed by us riding past. It chased me and tried to take a bite out of my back wheel. A grunt and a kick from Ian saved my bacon but it was a close call.

We pootled on for a few more miles, then, 10 miles from our destination we got caught in the heaviest downpour I’ve ever experienced on the road – hail, thunder and lightning, and streams of water running down the hills towards us. So, we have finished another day absolutely wet through. The hotel owners did not looked pleased as we dripped all over the floor.

We knew this morning that the gradient finished with an unexplained spike at the end. A few miles from the hotel the cause of the spike became apparent – Tarquina is a walled town on top of a hill. A lowest gear climb at the end of the day is hard enough but add to that, crossing the river that was flowing down the road and avoiding the cars on the sharp bends, then you can imagine how glad we were to reach out hotel. A launderette has saved the day for washing and drying the kit but I suspect we will all be donning wet shoes in the morning.

We found a medieval restaurant to refuel for our first proper meal of the day since breakfast and then Mark and I wandered round the town and realised that from here, we can see the sea.

And so, at 1-0 Uruguay I shall conclude. Whatever happens in the football, for us, tomorrow to Rome.