Adige Bike Route – lonely no more

Heading towards the mountains along the Adige bike trail

What a contrast! After writing about the loneliness of the long distance cyclist along the Po river in Italy, things changed. But for the better? That’s the question. 

 

Crossing the Adige river  in Verona

Heading northwards. Leaving the flat Po plains and heading for the mountains. Riding up the Adige river from Verona. The cycle trail is excellent. Smooth, clearly signposted, free of traffic and rising so gently you’d hardly notice it – apart from one nasty hill.

It is so good, it is attracting business. Tour companies who provide bikes, helmets, guide, book hotels and arrange just about everything, are attracting cyclists who like having all but the pedalling done for them. Some hardly need to pedal as they have hired e-bikes.

 

Cooling spray for the apple orchards - a bit of a shower would be welcome on a hot ride

They ride downstream and we are riding up. It’s like swimming against the tide. Groups of 20 or more on rattly bikes but with little “road sense“ are riding two abreast, concentrating on pedalling and focussed on the wheel of the guy in front. Never mind the idiot going in the opposite direction. 

It is good to see so many people experiencing the pleasure of bike touring. It is, as I say, bringing business. Hotels are full, group organisers are busy, delivery drivers are buzzing from hotel to hotel with the luggage, bike sales must be booming. Cynics might say this has nothing to do with adventure but is creating the illusion without the joy of chance encounters.

 

Neumarkt, one of the attractive towns along the Adige

Meanwhile, approaching Bolzano, the traffic thickens. It's Saturday and the local racing clubs are out in force. And moving fast. The locals are out for a gentle spin, riding to the shops, taking the children for a ride. Occasionally old school bike tourists thread their way through the stream. 

 

Old school bike tourist?
Who is this guy, seen riding along the Pustertal in June?

The old school are the purists. Simple bikes, modest load of luggage. No fixed plan, flexible. Quietly cruising along. Free as a bird.  A nod towards like–minded on-comers. It’s regrettable that with the greatly increased traffic, the spirit of cameraderie decreases and mutual co-operation wanes. In 1000km covered, we had few discussions with on-comers about what lies ahead for each of us. Far fewer than in the past.

There are plenty of castles along the way 

Contrast these with the juggernaut drivers. Huge upright black e–bikes. The command centre fitted with Garmin gear preloaded with the detailed route which must be followed. Mobile phone and maps attached to the handlebar along with the e-bike controller to monitor progress. Then, as well as the battery, there is a backup, a supplementary power source for the Garmin and phone etc. On the back is half a ton of essential luggage. Cynics might say this has nothing to do with adventure but a work out for gadget geeks.

Breakfast conversation in German in the hotel:

Him: do you speak German?

Me: yes

Him: are you German?

Me: no

Him: where are you going?

Me: North. You?

Him: South. We rode 125km yesterday

Me: mmmm... (thinks: on an e-bike, downhill, no big deal)

I think he only struck up the conversation to tell me this.

The handlebars on this guy's bike came up to my chest. The „cockpit“ looked like something from star wars. Our simple, steel Roberts touring bikes looked like toys beside it.

 

Riding on former rail tracks is a treat - even up hill.
This is heading north towards the Brenner Pass from Bolzano

Bolzano is a maelstrom of two wheel traffic going at very different speeds, with different objectives on bikes as different as Italy’s plains behind us are from the Alps ahead.  But it works. Sadly, amid so much activity there is no time or inclination for greetings. Whereas once a raised hand, a „hi“ or even a smile was the norm, here not a twitch or a grunt of recognition.

Riding towards the Brenner Pass

 At least, when we were riding along the Po almost every rider had a greeting: salve, buon giorno, even a forza!

Once past Bolzano, heading towards the Brenner Pass, the traffic thins to a trickle. Racers out training. A few tourists heading south. Maybe loneliness is not so bad after all. 

Counting the cycle traffic -
here, near Brixen, only 17 had passed by 9am and 25,425 in the year to date

Po Bike Route 3 – reflections

Even small towns have lovely piazzas

The ink was hardly dry on the new edition of Bikeline’s Po river cycling guide as we set off. Perversely we rode upriver from Venice rather than down from the Turin end. Reckoning on it being exceedingly flat, it didn’t matter which way we went. The guide, however, is written for downriver riders.

Once we found the raised dike which keeps the river from flooding too large an area, navigation was easy. Keep riding along the raised dam – asphalt surface, not a hill in sight.

 

Easy riding, not a hill in sight

Not much else in sight either. After an hour you have seen it all. Fields of corn and wheat. A few houses. The river, fat, dark and seemingly motionless. This is how it will be for the next few days. Tomato and rice fields come later as a welcome diversion.

 

Tomatoes - a welcome change from the maize fields

It’s rare to find a village without a bar. A good espresso costs just €1 everywhere. The bar serves as the meeting point for the village men loudly discussing politics. Their bikes are parked around the bar. Ours come in for scrutiny. “How do you change the gears?” “Campagnolo!  Bene!” “Questo?” What’s this for? One guy explains that on his first bike, the gear changer was located down near the back axle on the seat stay – it must have been a long time ago.

 

Detailed examination of our bikes at a bar:
"Questo?" "Campagnolo, Bene"

For a week the scenery hardly changes. Days go by, each with just 50 vertical meters of climbing. More bars, more coffee. Reasonable prices in hotels. Good food. Hardly a touring cyclist to be seen. Just the local racers who, at least, give a welcome call, “Salve, Forza!”.

 

Every village has a bar. Every bar has good coffee,
Every bar is the place for political discussion

So why ride the length of the river Po?  You will know the answer as you arrive in one of the historic cities along its length. Ferrara, Cremona, Piacenza, Pavia, Casale Monferrato. Bumping along terrible cobbled streets you are riding back into another age.

Beautiful classical buildings, narrow lanes you just have to stroll down, tall houses in warm earthy colours hiding the gardens and courtyards glimpsed through gateways. Cathedrals, castles and civic buildings in a grand and opulent scale face huge piazzas of perfect proportions.

 

Cremona, beautiful buildings, large piazzas, relaxed atmosphere

And the piazzas are lined with bars and cafes offering classic surroundings for people-watching, relaxing and nibbling on the extras that come with the drinks.

 

Cremona, the piazzas are lined with bars and cafés

Even in the smaller towns there are delights to savour. In Ostiglia is a b&b in a magnificent, recently restored fifteenth century palace, right in the town centre. Elsewhere, even in small villages, there are huge, perfectly proportioned piazzas…and of course a bar.

 

Ostiglia, the breakfast room in a fifteenth century palace

The river rolls along like molten sticky toffee. There’s not much activity. Few boats or landing stages. The countryside sweats under a hot sun and villages and towns are linked by some shocking roads and, sometimes, bike routes which are surprisingly smooth. 

 

Cremona is the home of the violin makers

The Po Bike trail, part of Eurovelo 8 crossing Europe from Spain to Greece, is a work in progress. Signage is sometimes good but often patchy, the trail is sometimes hard to lose and at others hard to find. Ride the Po? Yes, you won’t gather many altitude meters but you will have a cultural feast.

Casale Monferrato, narrow lanes, warm colours, bumpy cobbles

Po Bike Route 2 - headgear

Riding on the pavement - anything to avoid those cobbles - and nothing seems to be against the rules

Are we getting soft in the head? These days we hardly push the bike out of the shed without putting on a helmet.

Spend a couple of days in the north Italian city of Ferrara and you will see bikes buzzing in all directions like swarming bees. There are no rules. No bike lanes. And you won’t see a single helmet among them.

The ancient town with is huge castle and classic piazzas has some terrible cobbled streets. Stones are spread out but without any attempt at smoothing them to a single height. It’s like riding a bike on a pebble beach.

So the bikes whizzing about the town aren’t only buzzing but they are rattling. Most are old boneshakers and if they aren’t already they soon will be.

Aboard is every variant of mankind. Young, old and ancient, fat, thin, tall and short. Businessmen in suits and ties, furled umbrellas attached to the crossbar, women speeding about their daily tasks with aplomb with a basket attached to the handlebars, mothers with a child in front and another behind, police patrolling on official cycles, teenage girls in cut off cut-offs chatting on their phones as they weave among the crowds, students, schoolchildren, young dudes withe reversed baseball caps...and not a helmet to be seen.

Sweltering along in 30C heat we had already removed ours. It was like riding in the days when even the Tour de France racers wore nothing more than a cap. Wind in the hair. What a difference! Feel the freedom.

Pundits say wearing a helmet encourages risk taking, discourages bike use, makes car drivers give less clearance when passing.  

So what is the death rate among cyclists in Ferrara compared with, say, Sydney where helmets are compulsory? And how does the use of bikes for short journeys compare? It isn’t easy to find comparable results but according to Forbes Business, the more cyclists there are, the fewer the proportional number of fatalities. As Australia has demonstrated, helmet wearing discourages cycling. So…work it out from there.

One thing for sure is that everyone in the Italian town uses a bike for every local trip. Hop on in everyday clothes, high heels, evening dress, whatever, hop off at the destination. No parking worries. No unnecessary protective clothing. Just the simplest, most convenient method of transport.

It’s not surprising there aren't many cars about.

Po Bike Route 1 – loneliness

Perfect for riding but where are the cyclists?

 The 1960s classic Tom Courtney film The Loneliness of the Long Distance Runner keeps coming to mind. Not because I'm running. But I’m thinking more along the lines of The Loneliness of the Long Distance Cyclist.

Let’s get things straight. I'm not alone. I'm travelling with my wife. So we have each other for company. But in the last 500km, we’ve only seen a tiny handful of cycle tourists.

The River Po flows right across the north of Italy. It begins in the Alps , passes Turin and flows into the Adriatic just south of Venice. Between Turin and Venice, some 650km, the Po creeps like a slow, fat slug reluctant to mingle with its salty relative. So the cycle trail that follows its progress is flat. Extremely flat.

 

Navigation is easy along the dike

A lot of the route is along the dike that keeps the Po from flooding too far from its usual path. It is exposed. It’s not very exciting. Corn and wheat fields stretch to the distant horizon. The gems of this trail lie in the cities neatly dotted about a hard day’s ride apart along the banks...and in the restaurants and coffee bars. More on this later.

Italy enjoys plenty of good weather. Spring, early summer and autumn should have perfect weather for long distance cyclists. So where are they?

To ride along a marked, dedicated bike route for hours and not see more than a dog walker or a local guy grinding his old bike down to the bar is unusual. For this to be the case for days on end is totally peculiar.

 

The Po, slowly creeping across Italy

There was a lone Swiss. Free as a bird. Had come over the Gotthard Pass. Making his way east but contemplating turning north and heading for Austria. We exchanged warnings about badlands ahead for each of us. 

An international group on a guided and brief (baggage sent ahead) tour came puffing up on to the dike and stopped for a group photo. 

 

Wide open spaces, and not much sign of life

But that's it. Seven days and we feel as if we are the only ones here. Bikeline just published a new edition of their guide for the Po route, so maybe there will be more.

Meanwhile we have the pleasure of having it all to ourselves. No time to feel lonely, just lucky.

Update: overtaken by two young women well loaded with camping gear, heading for Torino. 

Coffee: Espresso is the standard coffee but the Americano is also known. It comes as an espresso plus a jug of hot water. It works well and still only costs €1

Anxious hours before the start

The dead hours before setting off on another bike adventure. Starting with a train journey, means leaving home at a fixed time.  Waiting time.

The mind is in turmoil. Have we remembered everything? Will it all fit in the panniers? Will I manage this load for three weeks? 

Although the Austrian train service is organised for cyclists, we will have to find the right carriage. Unload the bags. Heave the bikes into the train – with luggage mine weighs nearly 30 kg. Hang them in the allotted spaces. Find seats nearby. The trains only stop for one minute.

Why take a train? It would take us five-days to ride this section, most of which we've covered before, some of it many times. More time to cover new territory.

As for the journey ahead: we start from a city station in Italy – how on earth will we find our way out of town? The weather isn’t looking too good. Is it going to be exciting or tedious? It is, after all, generally flat. Are we going to find good places to stay? Is it really going to be an adventure?

It’s nearly time to go. Load the bikes, water bottles, panniers. Maps, tickets, money, camera. Final checks.

Leg over, into the saddle and the turmoil clears. It’s just us, the bikes and the road ahead. No commitments, no worries – they’re all behind us. Adventure ahead. Watch this space.

No need to worry about hills on the route from Venice Mestre station to Jesolo

Bavaria – don’t plan for surprises

Klosterburg St Peter at Höglwörth - an unplanned surprise

A week ago we were losing our way following a mapped trail in Croatia. Seven days later and we are riding without a plan in Bavaria. No planned route, so can’t get lost!

Drifting along with no fixed plan has its moments. Some good. A few, not so good. But either way, the surprises are a bonus, sometimes a challenge, often a new experience. 

Germans are supremely organised. For them planning is the key. Cycle touring magazines are full of GPS planning aids and articles about how to use them. Uploads, downloads, extra gadgets, supplementary power, solar panels, chargers, phone brackets. Everything to keep the GPS devices attached to the handlebars with tiny maps keeping the rider from straying off the intended route. 

Bavarian farmhouses are surprisingly large

Too much planning reduces the opportunity for surprises. Maybe that’s what some people want. Not us.

Non-planning included:

·      Deciding left or right on the fly. 

·      Rounding a bend to come across a beautiful monastery beside a placid lake

·      Asking locals for directions. 

·      Following along a “beer trail” through woodland to the Weininger brewery in Teisendorf. Signs told us the history (the mayor declared “no defecating in the river after midday on Tuesday as the beer is made on Wednesday).

·      Failing to find a single café in 70km, 

·      Choosing a country lane because it looked interesting

·      Never getting lost because there’s no fixed plan

·      Not knowing what’s around the next bend or just over the hill

·      Consulting a (paper) map to find the way back to the start. 

Bavaria is huge, largely agricultural, undulating but not too hilly and incredibly well supplied with marked bike trails, local and long distance. Lots of good signposting. Plenty of good beer (even if coffee is hard to find). All add up to an ideal place to ride a bike, with or without a plan.

Along the beer trail to Teisendorf

Istria: still learning after 30 years

After more than 30 years of cycle touring around Europe and beyond, it would be reasonable to imagine we had ironed out all the wrinkles. But our first two day trips over a long weekend in Croatian Istria soon proved us wrong.

We have a stack of well-used Bikeline books of long distance routes. Indeed spotting the Istrian edition in a bookshop prompted the long-weekend trip. So we know how to find our way using these guides.

After the initial long and arduous climb on our first outing from Buzet, we missed the first turning and climbed a lot further than necessary.

Finally, realising our mistake, we rolled back to the intended turning and resumed the route. Before long we were lost and from there things, literally and figuratively, went downhill. We found our way back in the end but found the Bikeline route descriptions lacking in useful guidance - like mentioning the signposts.

Rovinj - lunch on board and ready for the start but unprepared for the rough track

Day two and things started well heading out of Rovinj. But when we came to the indicated “gravel” stretch found it almost impossible for anything but a mountain bike. Our touring bikes were floundering in deep hollows of loose stones the size of Oxo cubes. Again we opted out and found an alternative asphalt route.

Route 502 - if you aren't climbing, then you are on a precipitous descent

Twice bitten, day three was going to go smoothly. Route 502 set by Istriabike, the local tourist organisation, is all asphalt. We also had a profile and know there is over 600m of climbing. And what a lovely ride! Through small vineyards, olive groves, woods and tiny, ancient villages. Well signposted and with a map clearly illustrating distance between junctions and simple rally- style images for each turn - nothing could go wrong. And it didn't. 

Some of the ups and downs of route 502 

The great gate into Buzet

However, getting to the official start at Sovinjak was interesting. Just 8km. 5km along the Mirna valley, turn left and....250 vertical metres at 10% a bit more than we had bargained for. And along route 502, it was non stop climbing and descending, sometimes steeper than 10%. Even going down was slow as it was so steep.

Day 4 and we took our chances with the Bikeline book and managed a modest circular route on good asphalt from Groznjan with only one slip up. 

There's quite a network of surfaced roads in Istria and many of them are very quiet. All you need to find them is a really good map and some suggestions from the local tourist offices who have good information and guides available free, 

Istria has invested a lot of effort in setting up bike routes and making them easily accessible with good printed material. But many of these are unsurfaced tracks and if you are sticking to the asphalt, be ready to ride with traffic on some busy through routes. Either way, there is plenty of good, healthy climbing ahead in beautiful rural surroundings.

D_I_Y bike service facility in Groznjan
including pump, Allen keys etc

Rovinj from across the bay

Coffee: Croatia has excellent coffee if you like it strong. Highly recommended is the cafe at the foot of the hill to the Buzet old town (Stari Grad). A double espresso macchiato will get you up the steep and winding climb, and even over the horrendous cobbles, as you pass through the gate. An it costs just 12 Kuna. (less than €2)