Have thighs, will travel

We have just completed our first foray into the Alps. Since the last update we have covered so much interesting territory that only a very cursory rundown will leave this page below book length.

Our warm up for the Alps was a 1200m pass over the Appenines. From there we descended into Modena, the home of balsamic vinegar. We are now the proud owners of a bottle of 12-year-old, farm house attic matured, Aceto Balsamico di Modena.

Next was the Po River flats - 3 days of boring and blistering hot biking. But it was all worth it as Venice was the reward. Upon arrival Claudia was too excited to swallow her pizza and was sweating so much (from the heat rather than excitement) she declared herself capable of being a salt lick for a deer herd. We spent 3 days here walking mile upon mile through the labyrinth of alleyways that make up the city. Every turn was a picture perfect scene of little bridges spanning canals, gondoliers in stripey shirts punting their way between crumbling yet still regal looking buildings, or a square full of tourists literally covered in pigeons.

We headed up the St Marks Basilica Bell Tower for the only view of the 117 islands that the city covers. Orange rooves crammed onto every available space and surprisingly no canals visible from up here. We were rather taken aback when the bells hanging 5 feet above our heads started slamming their way deafeningly through some 6.30pm Ode to Brass and stood with fingers in our ears as the world shook around us. Thoughts of how this tower spontaneously collapsed in 1902 and had to be rebuit brick by brick were never far away.

We also took a boat trip (9 actually) out to the lagoon islands of Murano (famous for its glass), Burano (lace), and Torcello (mosquitos). Burano was the favourite with tiny canals lined by multi-coloured houses of bright yellow, green, blue, pink etc.

Then it was time to hit the hills and we headed north into the Dolomites. The first pass was only 700m and was the most bizarre and amazing bit of road we've seen. It took 18 hairpins to curl up a cliff lined cirque in the pouring rain and thunder that has accompanied us since Venice. The top 7 corners were hewn straight into the rock face with each corner in a small tunnel connecting the ramps of road between. As we came out of the cloud on the other side the Dolomites proper reared up in front of us. Adjectives have not been penned to adequately describe these mountains. Not much on this trip has rivalled NZ scenery but these go beyond. So for 2 days we have been marvelling at massive spires of rock (and Claudia's muscley thighs) towering in all directions around us.

We had to work for it though. The Passo di San Pellegrino took us up to 1918m (remembering Venice is on the sea!), with the steepest sections at 18%. The pros in the Giro di Italia flit up here on their 6.7kg racing bikes, but with 12kg of pannier alone clinging to your rear it was brutual. Immediately after this was a 1750m pass where the thunder and hail rolled in. We got a respite of sorts with 3km of underground through tunnels before bursting out into the heat again back at 200m in Bolzano.

Here it is like another country and you're more likely to hear a 'Gutten Tag' than a 'Ciao'. Signs are in German and a yodel seems dangerously imminent at all times. Last night we were pounded in our tent by another huge thunder storm, with puddles forming inside our vestibule. Now we are having a day off to let the legs recover and the gear dry out before a last push across the top of Italy into France.

Auf Weider-derci

C&D

All roads lead to Roma

Ave!

Here we are on the Italian Riveria, sipping wine from Orvieto and baking in the sunshine. Although don't feel too jealous - I (Claudia) got sunburnt through my top while biking, I've got 1001 itchy bites and we've got to put up with hairy near-nude Europeans who insist on ditching all but their speedos the second their feet hit the campsite. But these are our crosses to bear, just as work is yours.

Rome was a gluttony of sightseeing with all the usual suspects spotted - the Fountain of Trevi (had to settle for throwing our English pennies in as couldn't find our sesterti), St Peters Basilica and Square, the Roman Forum, Colosseum (next to Via Claudia!), various piazzas, the Vatican and Sistine Chapel, the Spanish Steps, and several gelaterias and pizzerias. Whew! George Bush Jnr even had a cameo whizzing past us twice in his excessively large motorcade (it included three helicopters).

There's probably only material enough for 3 complete buildings in Roma - the bronze ceiling of the Pantheon had to be requisitioned for an altar in St Peter's; the Colosseum marble floors have supplied various projects; and it sounds like the city has been in a revolving state of ruin for centuries.

From Rome we got back on the bikes and cycled north through Lazio, Umbria and Tuscany. The Tuscan countryside is justifiably famous although relying on our legs for propulsion we feel it's been under-reported in terms of its hills. Vineyards, olive groves and cyprus trees are the norm, interspersed with medieval hill-top towns. From a distance they resemble a castle on top of a hill, but encompass a whole town of cobbled streets, narrow alleys created by jumbled stone buildings, and the obligatory cathedral. The Gothic style came as a surprise but features large - lots of black-and-white striped zebraesque buildings with intricate facades of multicoloured marbles, mosaics and statues.

This is the paragraph on food. Our culinary tour of the world continues, and what beteter place than Italy? To this end we've learnt Italian, "Due espresso per favore!". What more do you need? Well, you need to be able to get 200g of cheese, salami, and proscuitto, and we can do that too. Our tried and trusted method of snack buying in Asia was to heft things, figuring more grams = more calories. Thus we were delighted to find you can buy pizza by the weight in Italy. Other favourites include gelati which comes in every flavour you can think of including local specialty wine varieties, and of course the wine itself. This must be the only thing that's cheaper than home, $7 NZD will buy you 5L if you're keen. A bottle of nice wine will set you back $10.

Aside from the wine Italy, in true Roman style, is plundering our coffers. A campsite here costs $40-50 NZD per night. Some tell you the showers are "free", others charge extra. At least after 5L of wine you don't really care.

Our last stop was Pisa, a seedy town with a leaning tower and zero ambience. It was a bizarre town with one main piazza filled with African touts and American tourists, and even a "native" North American Cherokee busking squad. The tower is astonishing and surrounding buildings are also amazing but its certainly not a place to linger (in fact we set our highest average speed today hightailing it out of there).

Tomorrow we're heading to Cinque Terre, five villages on the Riveria "clinging to the cliff faces or concealed in miniature inlets" (thanks tourist brochure). Then its over the Appenine mountain range (make it sound easy don't I?) which will take two days with the sun burning from the outside and lactic acid burning from within, down to Venice.

Ciao with love
C&D

2000km and Buns of Steel

We made it! 21 days of cycling, 2000km and only 2 days biking in the rain. We got to 8000km and have done over 500 hours of riding since leaving home. England was pretty, with its rural life and stone villages, but Scotland, well Scotland is where its at.

After Edinburgh we headed west to Loch Lomond which (despite the presence of millions of midges) was beautiful. Then it was through the highlands, where the scenery was highly reminiscent of parts of the South Island, and a welcome change from the rolling paddocks of England. The comparatively small mountains (highest in UK is Ben Nevis at 1300 odd meters, cf Mt Cook at 3800 ish) did a fine job of showing off some steep granite flanks and giving a general impression of grandeur, surrounded by tussock covered moors and the odd tarn, which of course here they call a Loch. On that, we have discovered that to the Scots, any body of water is ripe for the moniker Loch. Loch Linnhie is an inlet, Loch Lomond is a lake, and Loch Ba is a small alpine lake which we call a tarn. This led to a predictable renaming of our drink bottles.

Our route took us past Ben Nevis and its northern face which is not only steep but steeped in mountaineering history as its ice filled gullies have been targeted by generations of climbers. It was then onto Loch Ness (a lake, just so you know), where we did the obligatory monster impressions - no real sightings to report unfortunately. Two more days plugging up the east coast from Inverness had us arriving at John O'Groats as we had left Land's End - in the pouring rain. Very satisfying to reach the end point after being cut down just short of our last goal.

We took a guided day trip to the Orkney Islands, and were treated to stories ranging from fascinating WW1 and WW2 history based around the Scapa Flow harbour that was often used to shelter the British fleet, to very small town gossip, such as the life history of a swan the bus happened to pass, and a slow drive by of a paddock so we could all admire a lone deer that was apparently pregnant. This was clearly a woman who loved her community and loved her job. One story told of a German U Boat that managed to sneak into the harbour through a small inlet and sink a British warship. This led to 1000 or so Italian troops being shipped in from North Africa and a sidestepping of the Geneva Convention in order to put them to work building barriers that now form the causeways that link the islands. We visited the last remnant of their camp, which was a small chapel they built complete with Madonna and Child fresco that the artists stayed on after the end of the war to finish. It seemed like a far cry from the emaciated and haunted looking images of Allied prisoners we are all accustomed to. The Orkneys were also the site of the first British citizen killed in WW2 by a stray bomb during an air raid in the harbour. This despite London et al already being the subject of raids.

There are also tons of archaeological sites on Orkney. We visited some stone block houses from 3100BC (earlier than the Pyramids of Giza) and a couple of random standing stone formations that the use of is still unclear. There is much more to be discovered here with a major dig currently underway, so for a tiny wee place there is much to keep the otherwise unengaged cycle tourist interested.

Now we are in London frantically preparing for our departure to the Continent tomorrow. Rome beckons initially but from there it is still completely vague except for ensuring our presence in the French Alps mid July for the passing of the preeminent cycle Tour.

Ciao in anticipation

C&D