Out of season tourists in Croatia

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Slovenian bike lane

Despite its best attempts to keep diverting us back to the city centre with badly placed bike route signs, eventually we left Trieste, the most un-bike-friendly place of the trip so far and followed signs to Slovenia. The first new country for us, and although we only spent a few hours there, it wins the awards for ‘best short bike route’ and ‘cheapest Lidl lunch’ so far. Both of these are highly coveted awards for us and we do not hand them out lightly. The bike route was a combination of quiet rural lanes and a smooth, flat bike path between the road and the sea. As this mostly followed an old train line, there was even traffic-free tunnels thrown in as a bonus. A point is lost here for the fact that moped riders (helmets optional) can use the bike lane, but outside the towns these were few and far between.

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Lunch as the sun sets

All too soon we arrived at the Croatian border, showed our passports for the first time since getting off the boat in the Netherlands (and got a stamp after asking) and immediately hit a steep hill. Welcome to Croatia! With daylight hours disappearing we came off the wiggly bike route to Porec and took the main coast road instead where the importance of tourism to the area is evident every 50 metres or so. We passed huge adverts for 24 hour casinos, hotels, resorts, spas, campsites (despite these being closed), shopping malls… A combination of our odd meal times and the short days meant that we ate our lunch at a spot where the road met the sea as the sun set and then rode the last hour or so in the dark. To make this already tricky task a bit trickier we reached a point where the road was closed for resurfacing. Not wanting to do a massive detour we asked if we could go through and were waved on. What we hoped was a short stretch turned into 2 miles of rocks to ride/slide/walk through, not the easiest on loaded bikes and it was well and truly dark when we bounced out of the other side. Unbeknown to us we had arrived in Porec the weekend of a car rally, so fell asleep to the sound of engines in the distance.

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Limski canal

Despite the rally, Porec was eerily quiet. We are long past tourist season, which gives some of the resort towns a ghost-town feel. Bars and restaurants are closed and places are just devoid of people. From Porec we took an inland route in the direction of Dvigrad, an abandoned hill town (abandoned for centuries, not just for the winter, we see semi-abandoned towns all the time). It was so hot we had to seek out shade for stops rather than sun. Every other car that passed us going into Porec was a rally car which was cool until a bit later in the day we heard that familiar sound of the rally engine and realised our planned quiet scenic inland route overlapped with the rally route. Unfortunately as the small road to Dvigrad was being used for the finish it was closed to traffic so we had to abandon that plan and retrace our road back to the coast. It did mean we passed the Limski canal, a huge steep sided gorge where the sea cuts into the land. Back at the coast we stopped for an ice cream or two (they were small honestly) in Rovinj and decided to call it a day while there was still daylight left to enjoy and sat sunning ourselves for a while, enjoying the sunset from a bench rather than a bike seat for once.

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The only way to truly celebrate a wedding

This was also our first experience of Croatian Wedding Drivers. It’s easy to lose track of what day it is on this trip, but this phenomenon means that we get at least a weekly reminder. Every Saturday in Croatia we have been passed on the road by processions of cars beeping their horns consistently with their hazard lights on. The front car has a huge Croatian flag flying from the passenger window; some cars will have ribbons and other decorations, and all drive in a long procession, zooming past us on the road and slowing down when they reach towns, all blasting their horns. In Rovinj they were skidding around the small roundabout on the waterfront tooting wildly. The combination of rally and wedding drivers on the same day… we were happy to be off the road.

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Pula amphitheatre

The following day Pula provided an attractive lunch stop, it has a mostly intact Roman amphitheatre overlooking the sea, some other ruins and my favourite tourist attraction, a small scale model of the city complete with fountain to provide realistic sea. Ace. Another race against the daylight, which we again lost, meant that we rode towards Plomin as the sun set. Short autumnal days are annoying in many ways but we have had some spectacular evening skies and with the coastal scenery thrown in as well, we often ride the last hour with massive grins on our faces wondering if life can get any better than this.

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Riding as the sun sets in Istria

After a day off drinking Yorkshire tea with milk (a rare treat) with our English warm showers host in Plomin, we made the decision to island hop south from the Istrian peninsula to avoid the coastal road as much as possible. We had read that the road can be busy and narrow, and who doesn’t like going on ferries?

Italy part 2: Cities and cobbles

Bergamo was the start of a ten day tour of cities and towns in north east Italy. Strange really as cities are never our first choice place to visit when travelling by bike – busy traffic, lots of people, large areas to cover – and we had not really planned on visiting any until Venice. But somehow we ended up going to several.

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2000kms!

With panniers full of clean clothes and feeling slightly refreshed (fully refreshed is just a pipe dream) after a day off, Brescia was our first stop. We had our lunch picnic by Lake Iseo in Clusane, where well dressed retired pensioners stroll (we looked very out of place and got the usual mixture of staring and intense questioning in Italian). From the lake we followed a rare and lovely Italian bike path through vineyards and small villages, which was very well signed until it wasn’t and we lost it. Ah well. With the days so short we invariably arrive places in dusk/dark, combined with rush hour traffic this isn’t too pleasant but we were happy to pass the 2000km mark in the centre of Brescia next to an impressive 11th Century duomo.

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Arriving in Verona at night (well 5.30pm…)

From Brescia the next city stop was Verona, ‘home’ of Romeo and Juliet and a Roman arena still used for summer opera. We rode via Lake Garda, usually a busy tourist hot spot but weirdly desolate in October – strange to us at it was still so warm but the holiday season is very much over now which makes touristy places very strange places to ride through. As above we arrived in Verona in the dark which at least meant we saw the centre lit up with the arena looking particularly spectacular. It also rained for the first time in a while which was a bit of a shock to the system and made the cobbled Italian streets even more frightening on a bike, especially when our host for the evening told us a story about falling off her bike and breaking both elbows after slipping on a wet cobble…

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Montagnana – you should go there…

On the look out for a small town to relax for a day before reaching Venice, we turned south and rode along flat roads (this part of Italy is particularly level so we hadn’t ridden up a hill in a while) to Montagnana, a small town with well preserved medieval walls the whole way around. Now who doesn’t love a good walled town, and as the youth hostel there had a garden for camping we had found our ideal rest stop. The Italians who ran the place thought we were mental for wanting to camp and their tone implied that we were bound to die from hypothermia, despite it hovering around 7-8 degrees at night. After assuring them that as English people we were confident of our survival we cooked a gourmet meal (it included meat and no pasta), slept warmly in the tent and had a relaxing day wandering the city walls and drinking coffee in the sunshine. It would be easy to miss Montagnana while speeding through the more famous Italian cities in the area but we would highly recommend a visit.

Made it to Venice!
Made it to Venice!

And so on to Venice, the destination we have always had in mind as the end of leg one of the trip. Yet as you can’t take bikes into the city, leg one actually ended with a train journey into the centre to explore on foot. The weather was perfect, the crowds not too busy, and strolling around St Marks square it was a strange thought that we had pedalled (almost) all the way there from Leicestershire. We also saw the most selfie sticks per square metre of the trip so far, perhaps not surprising, but the average age of a selfie stick user in Venice seems to be around 57. Took them ages to get the shots lined up. The next couple of days we rode through miles of farmland with mountains always over our left shoulder to Aquileia, a town with a lot of Roman ruins (many still unexcavated) and once the second biggest Roman city. The ruins are very impressive, well worth a closer look when you are in the area visiting Montagnana…

Our final Italian stop was Trieste, the biggest city we had ridden in yet and a place where cyclists are massively outnumbered by mopeds. It has a very fancy square with buildings on three sides and the sea on the other, but it’s not a place recommended for cycling. Somehow we escaped the city after eventually finding the bike route that would take us through Slovenia and into Croatia.

Next stop Slovenia!
Next stop Slovenia!

So after two weeks it was time to leave Italy, a country that exceeded our high expectations, bathed us in the sunshine we were desperate for during those cold days in France/Germany and re-introduced us to partially complete cycle routes that take you off busy roads only to divert you back onto them a few hundred metres later. Made us feel much less homesick, so thanks.

Huge thanks for this stretch to Aldo and family, Donatella and Luciano, Alberto Sabrina and Agata, Francesco and Elena, Francesco and Giulia, and all the retired Italians who have marvelled at our journey so far…

Italy part 1: Sunshine and staring

imageNorth of the Alps we were rarely given more then a cursory glance; travelling by bike in the Netherlands, Belgium, Germany and Switzerland is nothing to write home about. We blended in. But, welcome to Italy, the country where two girls on heavily loaded bikes with GB flags on are not the norm. When car drivers overtake us, most slow down and follow us with their stare as they pull back in (which involves them looking out of the side window behind them rather than at the road), often with open mouths. Old Italian men seem fascinated by the bikes and the luggage, often chatting away to us in Italian whilst counting the number of bags we have, unperturbed by the fact that we just smile and nod. Mouths drop open when we say we have ridden 2000 kilometres, a phrase even we can manage in Italian.

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Varenna, Lake Como

Crossing the Alps was not just a physical boundary between the ‘warm up’ ride to get there and the ‘real adventure’. Life on the road is different in many ways this side of the mountains. Italy is the first county we haven’t cycled in before, so everything is new. Bike routes are limited so we spend a long time finding routes on quiet roads, only to scrap them later in the day and stick to a bigger straight road in order to get anywhere. The language is almost unknown to us; we are learning the basics but it is hard not to be able to converse with those wide mouthed Italians who greet us in every town and fire questions at us. Road cyclists in full gear fly past all day. Campsites are closed. Also the clocks changing has made our riding day even shorter. But the sun is out (mostly). Also, we are slowing down. Our mission to get over the mountains in search of warmer climates and new places to cycle meant that we pushed on most days, whereas now we are meandering more, joining up places we want to visit, taking a day off here and there.

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Camping by Lake Maggiore

The descent from the mountains took us through Italian Swiss territory, where everyone spoke Italian and the driving became a little more crazy. Italy in everything but the name (and the prices). Our first lake stop was by Lake Maggiore, where we didn’t see George Clooney but with did meet Benardo, a cafe owner (and interestingly the designer of the first electric car) who invited us to camp on his ‘balcony of the lake’. Our tent could not have been closer to the lake shore, a perfect spot to wake up. Dennis from the Netherlands was also camping there and helping Bernardo with his work; Dennis had cycled over the Gotthard Pass too but on a Dutch shopping-style bike in bad weather. Made our ride over look easy. From Lake Maggiore we road east mostly in Switzerland, spending our last francs before staying in Como back in Italy. A sunny day was spent riding up and down the ‘inverted y’ base of Lake Como, ending up in Lecco where we actually found an open campsite on the lake. The following day we wound our way through small villages to get to Bergamo. Our route crossed a charity run/walk/bike ride several times – at one point we came across a fundraising stall selling fruit who did the usual open-mouthed gasping at our bikes and journey and then plied us with coffee and cake and filled our panniers (well actually Debs has the food pannier much to my relief) with oranges and mandarins.

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Being fed by the roadside

Bergamo has an old town, ‘citta alta’ on the top of a hill, and riding towards this we were reminded of how great it is to arrive by bike – views emerge slowly and you can appreciate the shift in terrain to get there (although maybe not during the ride up steep cobbled streets, but definitely after). The narrow streets and busy Sunday crowds were a bit of a nightmare to navigate walking the heavy bikes but it gave good opportunity for more staring. After a good look/walk/ride around we rode to the youth hostel up on another hill that had a great view of the old town. We checked in, sneaked our bikes into the room (becoming standard practice for us in hostels) to find that we had our own balcony and amazing view. Drinking €2 a bottle (this is not the cheapest) red wine from plastic beakers and watching the sky turn red over the old town, life in Italy was not bad at all.

Thanks to Bernardo and Dennis, the Italian road cyclists who encouraged us up the hills and the volunteers for ‘friends of Africa’ who fed us…

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‘Are you crazy?’ Up and over the Swiss Alps

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There’s mountains behind the fog…

Spurred on by temperatures of 20 degrees plus in Northern Italy it was time to head directly south through Switzerland, a country we have cycled across before so had not planned to include this time. But it is a beautiful country, and well set up for the cyclist (even if they do take you up and over hills instead of on flat roads around them) so we were not too upset at this change. Other than the fact we had left our comprehensive Switzerland cycling guide, map and plug adapter at home. Lucky the routes are well signed.

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Just a small bit of the Zug display

The first day in Switzerland was spent riding through the north of the country towards Zug, supposedly the most expensive city in one of the most expensive countries in the world. Our favourite thing about it was the obsession with pumpkins – we have seen a lot in the run up to Halloween but Zug took this to another level. From Zug we rode south mostly along lake shores, though the fog meant that they were a dull grey and the snowy mountains we knew lay ahead were obscured from view. Probably for the best. We made it as far as Wassen at 900m above sea level, negotiated a deal for a hotel room and fuelled up ready to climb to 2100m the following day. (For context, the highest mountain in the UK, Ben Nevis, is around 1300m high).

imageWe woke to a beautifully clear but frosty morning, finally able to view the mountains that lay in our path and the amount of snow up there. A 4km section of the road is being upgraded and we had been told that there is a bus service to take cyclists through the roadworks. After seeing no bus and no ‘road closed to cyclists’ signs we set off through the first tunnel with temporary traffic lights. The workmen laughed and encouraged us to keep going – must be fine we thought. However at the second tunnel we were faced with a Swiss man controlling the traffic rather than lights, who (we think) explained that we can’t cycle on and we should be on a bus. After arguing that there was no bus and no sign (in English obviously) we were finally waved on, and had to pedal madly uphill to try and get out of the tunnel before the traffic coming down was let through. With only gummie bears to fuel us this was difficult and after holding up a large truck we finally made it out.

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We made it!!

Eventually we reached Andermatt at 1400m, and asked in the tourist office about the weather at the top and if it was wise to cycle over. ‘Snow, -2 degrees, are you crazy?’ was the gist of the answer. The road closes at 6pm because of the ice, our biggest worry was slipping on the way down. But it was so clear, there was no risk of snowfall, and we really wanted to ride over if possible so we continued uphill with the plan that if it started getting icy we would turn back and get a train. And we were so pleased we did. The road up was not too steep, the views were incredible with the blue sky and there was hardly any traffic. Cars that did pass beeped and waved. Apparently in the summer the road is full of motorcyclists whizzing past – not at this time of year. We saw no other cyclists either. The
road flattens out towards the summit and before we knew it we had made it!

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Debs is on the Scalectrix corner…

The snow was thigh deep at the side of the road and it was freezing cold, after a few celebratory pictures we put on several extra layers and set off on the descent, usually the reward for a tough climb but for us we had been dreading this due to the frost on the road. By the time we dropped to Airolo at 1100m through some steep switchbacks our hands and arms were more sore from being on the brakes than our legs were from the ride up. Again not wanting to camp we got a hotel room, extending our Swiss Alpine Holiday for one more night, and found we had a panoramic view of the Alps from the bedroom. Awesome! Looking up at the snow, where the road came from and how it twisted and turned we could not believe we had just cycled over the pass. All that was left was to have a celebratory dinner of pasta and tomato sauce (there are limits to our ‘holiday’) and collapse into bed very pleased with ourselves.

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The panoramic reward from the hotel window

Thanks to Ralf and Franzie and the staff at Hotel Gerig (Wassen) and Hotel Motto (Airolo) for making our Swiss Alpine Holiday just about affordable!

Is it winter already?

imageAfter a rest (eating, washing, reminding our legs how to walk, shopping for warmer coats, gloves and socks) day in Wissembourg we decided to stay longer in France, enjoying understanding a little more of what people were saying than over the border in Germany. So we turned our bikes south towards Strasbourg. Unfortunately the cold snap (or what some people call Autumn) that started with frost on the inside of the tent a couple of days previously continued, and we were in for a few days of daytime temperatures of 6-9 degrees. This was not what we were riding away from a British winter for. Food stops became shorter, unless they were inside in the warm where they became much longer.

imageThe small French town of Uberach, our short outside lunch stop for the day, was notable for two reasons. Neither of which were the brewery where we planned to have a beer but were perhaps rightly turned away for wanting to eat our sandwiches inside at the same time. For the first time in two weeks riding on the continent we rode for a period of time on the left side of the road. Debs went first and I followed, not thinking anything of it, until about 20 meters later she stopped abruptly and started shouting sorry to an oncoming driver. The elderly lady seemed a little surprised but hopefully the British flags on the bikes explained a thing or two. Back on the right side of the road we stopped, put several layers of clothing on and ate our sandwiches in a small square outside the town hall. At some point a French guy came and chatted to us, in French, about our trip. Satisfied with the answers from two cold English girls he returned to work in the town hall, only to reappear with a colleague and a camera a short while later. Much hilarity ensued as he tried (and failed) to pick my bike up and then rode it around the small square almost toppling over. I hope we made the Uberach news.

imageWe reached Strasbourg the following day, an impressive city centre encircled by water which we liked very much given our love of islands. From there we had the choice of riding down the Rhine south and then east – flat – or taking a ‘short cut’ across the Black Forest in Germany – hilly. Stubborn as we are, we chose the latter due to already having ridden a good section of the Rhine in 2012. And liking a challenge. However the challenge on a cold day with a long ride mostly steep uphill to our hosts was too much for us, and after the fog closed in and the rain made everything very unpleasant we gratefully accepted a lift the last 20km. Cold, wet and a bit miserable, we were warmed up by tea, chocolate, wine and a huge dinner. Conversations about our route and the tough weather, and the discovery that it was 25 degrees in Lake Como, led us to change plans slightly and head straight south through Switzerland – with a 2100m pass in the way – to northern Italy. Sunshine here we come?!image

Thanks in this post to Claud and colleagues at the Uberach Mairie; Martine, Dominique and Stefan (great guitar playing); Tobi; Dirk and Karo.