We knew Sunday would be a busy day out on the Valsugana cycleway but we took the bull by the horns and headed west to Lago di Caldonazzo. This was when it dawned on us that the Italians spend much more money on their cycle paths then they do on their roads, it was a joy to ride on 15 miles of smooth, traffic free roads even though it was, as expected, a tad busy in places. At the lake we took the last remaining free bench overlooking it and relaxed for a while before refreshing with some ice-cream and then heading back home. By now we really felt the heat and welcomed the brief shade offered by the wooded sections.

Back at the ranch we’d managed to grab a spot where we could sit in the shade, although all the vans in the aire were fully exposed to the heat of the sun until about 7pm. As we were relaxing during the afternoon 2 Italian couples rode up on their bikes wishing to talk about the aire, of course the only words I know in Italian are “Mi dispiace ma non so parlare Italiano” which usually breaks the ice, when one of the guys replied “Uscita” a fight nearly broke out! But I quickly realised he meant “Do we get in through the exit”? Shortly afterwards 2 campervans arrived in the aire through the ‘uscita’.

Views from the aire

Monday morning it was back in the saddle for a ride east and south along the same cycleway to Bassano del Grappa. We set off at 8.45am when the weather was t shirt and short stuff, the bike batteries hadn’t been charged from the previous ride (this was intentional so as to drain them right down before recharging), so we had to be a bit economical with their usage. We played the ride by ear and the first 15 miles was on a superb path, the best we have ridden, there were areas of landscaped gardens and deliberate curves put into the path design rather than just straight. It followed the river, darting into and out of wooded areas and we thoroughly enjoyed the views of the mountains along the valley.

One of the straighter sections

Later on the ride we came across two diversions and, as is the Italian’s way, there was very little signing. We couldn’t really go far wrong as the valley became so narrow there was very little choice, but it meant we were out on the public roads, something we preferred not to do. The good thing about this though was that all the streets were decorated in pink, as we were now on a stage of the Giro d’Italia, but that was a few days ago.

We now had 25 miles under our wheels and I was thinking it was just another six to Bassano, it turned out to be twice that! So by the time we reached the outskirts of town we’d been going over 3 hours and the day had warmed up significantly, we cycled around the historical centre stopping for lunch at a restaurant in one of the piazzas. After a couple of beers the prospect of cycling back another 37 miles had lost its appeal, so there was only one thing for it, let the train take the strain! Thankfully the two guys I had met up by the castle the other day suggested this to me, so 7€ a person and 2 for the bike was a great way to come home.

Black spaghetti and crab

Friday

We left central Italy and the regions of Tuscany, Umbria and Marche and took 100 miles of autopista north (for a mere 12€) to the village of Brentino, which is by the Aldige river, in the next valley east from Lake Garda. The temperature stayed a constant 24c throughout our drive which must have contributed to the fact that Harry returned a remarkable 30mpg! The average for the 6,000 miles of our trip so far has been 25mpg.

We learnt of an excellent cycle path which runs the 60 miles between Verona and Trento and on our drive up we kept glimpsing it, so after lunch I dived into the garage and assembled our trusty steeds for a ride in the afternoon sunshine, obviously not for the whole 60 miles! Just north of Brentino we stopped amongst the vineyards for a photo shoot and looking up we saw, clinging to the rock face, what turned out to be the religious sanctuary of Madonna della Corona, something we knew nothing about, but apparently it was originally built in 1522. I will leave the legend of it to those who wish to delve further, but what I found more interesting is the fact that to take the proper recognised pilgrimage route involves climbing the 1,540 steps from Brentino! If only we weren’t moving on tomorrow that is just the kind of challenge I love! Apparently it takes 2 hours to go up and 1 hour to come down……unless you jump.

We just knocked off 10 miles on the bikes on the cycleway which proved to be as excellent as legend would have it, following the canal and weaving between vineyards. On our way back we were into a headwind and being on ‘turbo’ caught up a group of about 12 other cyclists, but not for long, oh the joy and lack of sweat at cruising off into the distance.

Note Madonna Della Corona high up the rock face!

We are definitely more at home up here in the north, the mountains are maybe just something that make us feel more comfortable, but the air seems cleaner and the lack of those pesky insects certainly helps. As we sit in the van in the shade in the valley, we look out through the open door across vineyards to the sun on the mountain opposite, Italy, you are scoring some brownie points!

Saturday

After a night of sleep interrupted every half hour by the nearby church bell, we became aware of quite a bit of comings and goings outside the van. After making her ladyship her usual 8am cuppa, the day was already heating up, so I donned my ‘cool gear’ of sports shirt, shorts and off road trainers, and went outside to investigate further. The road just beyond our van had been barriered off and cars were filling up the remaining spaces of the aire. After some craic with a couple of rather athletic looking people, it transpired that this was the day of the annual Trail Dell’Orsa, a 50k mountain ultra marathon organised by the Verona Trail Running Club. So as I wandered around taking photographs of the setting up, I felt a certain sense of pride being in the appropriate attire, and catching the glances of my would be competitors. I could read their thoughts, “Who is this new tall skinny man, we don’t know him, he could be dangerous”. The race wasn’t due to start for 3 hours, so it was either sit it out (and get blocked in) or head where we originally intended, yet again we plumped for the latter and I felt a bit sheepish driving off, but no doubt my competitors were relieved! Ha ha.

We headed north (again) via Trento to an aire in the town of Pergine, it turned out just to be a mixed parking car park where, being a Saturday morning with a fiesta and wedding taking place, there was definitely ‘no room at the inn’. We continued for another 15 miles east along the Valsugana Valley to the town of Borgo. Now this was an official aire with all the trimmings for 10€, but as we approached we started to get a bad feeling about it. The road had one side cordoned off which just happened to be the side the entrance was on! Rachel fortunately spied a camper in there so we drove in ever decreasing circles until we eventually found a way in through the ‘out’ road. Everything turned out perfectly as the ticket machine for the aire was also cordoned off so we ended up with all services free yet again!

Our 10 euro free aire

In the hot afternoon sun I went for a spin out on the bike, not to do our planned Trento to Bassano del Grappa route, which goes right past the aire, but to visit the castle overlooking the town. When the road ran out I had to follow the hiking route which got progressively worse! By the time I caught sight of a fellow mountain biker stood with his bike a hundred metres ahead, I was indeed struggling. The remaining few hundred metres of the climb became a combination of ride and push, mainly ride thankfully. I caught the 2 guys up at the castle where, to my dismay, it was barriered off as unsafe. I must hasten to add that these guys were proper riders, no engine to help them up! After some banter with my fellow mountain bike chums, we rode together further up for a while until eventually they continued to do some more serious stuff and pointed me down the nursery slopes back home.

A rather hot and sweaty old e-mountain biker

My two fellow 'proper' mountain bikers

Tuesday morning we drove 9 miles south to another of our ‘must see’ towns. Spello is made out of the same limestone as Assisi, but apart from sharing the same construction material they are completely different. Although it has a population of only 8,500 there are over 25 small churches and religious buildings, yes St Francis was a big hitter here as well, but you wouldn’t know of the religious influence unless you looked more closely behind the immaculate flower bedecked streets. The residents obviously take a great deal of pride in the appearance of their homes as you will see from the photographs.

Of the six gateways into the town the most dramatic is Porta di Venere (Venus’ Gate) from 1^st Century, which has two dodecagonal towers, both very much restored now. It was interesting talking to a Dutch campervanner who observed that when the Italians restore their buildings, they sometimes do it too immaculately, which is absolutely true.

After a lovely walk around the town we travelled about 80 miles northeast into the Marche region. We found a free aire with electricity (of course) at another ‘different’ hilltop town called Corinaldo, close to the Adriatic coast. In addition to all the services a campervanner needs, it had the added bonus of a bar which would be showing the Uefa League Final between Ajax and United the following night, this was starting to look like a 2 night stopover.

Rachel setting off on the 100+ steps into town!
Not Rachel really but this is how she felt near the top!

Notice the pigeons hanging onto the wall behind the fountain.

Add your own caption

It was warm on Tuesday but by Wednesday things were getting seriously hot and with no breeze the 35c heat was getting to us a bit. Added to that the presence of Mustafa the Mozzie and his mates was making life a little uncomfortable. Although we hadn’t yet heard the telltale kamikaze buzz, we are sporting a few calling cards, I suppose that’s one of the joys of journeying south of Penrith. Undeterred by these events we decided to have a pre match barbeque on Wednesday, but that did mean I was outside with trousers and a shirt on in an effort not to collect more insect trophies, not the most comfortable attire in that heat.

Warning: The following script could seriously damage your mental health if you’re not interested in football.

Talking about trophies United won another!! It was a rather bizarre experience watching in a bar which had a large room at the back with a huge TV. Although there were about 8 locals in the room, 5 were sitting around a table playing cards having bought nothing at the bar, the three or so others I think bought two ice creams between them throughout the whole match, I seemed to be not only the only person drinking beer in that room, but in the whole place! Anyway, when United scored I naturally jumped up, fisted the air and shouted “YES”!! as any self respecting footy fan would. I expected some kind of response from other people in the room but to my dismay that was the moment I realised I was sharing this experience with the Corinaldo branch of the Ajax supporters club….. great! When United scored their second, the place was gathering the ambience of a dentist’s waiting room, and as soon as the full time whistle went I was so intent on watching the celebrations that I had failed to notice the mass evacuation of the Dutch/Italians, there was only one thing for it, get a celebratory drink in and wallow in the team’s success.

Thursday morning we broke with tradition and treated ourselves, if that’s the right expression, to some paid for autopista driving, hopefully the standard of the surface would be better than the usual cheesegrater-like rubbish we had become accustomed to. Thankfully it was, but we have no idea yet how much the 90 mile drive cost as the toll booth at the end gobbled our card then spat it out without any indication of charge, but that’s Italy for you!

NOT the autopista but the more common Italian cheesegrater stuff!

We arrived in time for lunch at the town of Castel San Pietro Terme, which is about 15 miles from the centre of Bologna, although it was still hot enough peel paint off cars at least there was a breeze to make it much more bearable.

Rain, and lots of it, but we had a good night’s sleep and had a choice of taking a rather tricky route into the wilderness of the mountain range or head back down the road to ‘Bedfordshire’ to pick up on our ‘must see’ places. We plumped for the latter, but being refreshed, the sleepy 31mph road back wasn’t so bad. We eventually arrived at Montefalco, yet another lovely hill top town with a stunning panoramic view of the upper Umbrian valley. The town was dressed in pink, pink ribbons, pink flowers, pink bicycles, you name it and it was pink! Then the penny dropped, the Giro d’Italia (Italy’s version of the Tour de France) came through the village last week and pink is the significant shirt of the leader of the race, as yellow is in the Tour de France. So we missed Italy’s premier cycle race by 5 days.

The largest lazy Susan we have ever seen!

The sosta is one of the best we’ve stayed in, yes it was the princely sum of 5€, but for that you get all services, including electricity powerful enough to run a small town, never mind Rachel’s hair dryer, and a lovely view en suite. The laundrette was 200 metres away and with a baking sun and decent breeze it was perfect ‘drying weather’.

Monday morning we headed north, after kicking 2 sostas into touch, the first for being unkempt but free, and the second for being unkempt at 8€, we finally pushed the boat out and paid 12€ for a superb agriturismo sosta with a beautiful view of Assisi, wifi included, hence this post.

Whether you’re religious or not, Assisi is a stunning town in its own right. Yes there are the tacky souvenir shops, which are to be expected, but the place still retains an air of class and is immaculate. The pink stone sets it apart from other places we’ve seen and despite it being a large historical town everywhere was so well presented. Assisi is one of the most beautiful towns we’ve visited.

The mile of pavement leading up to the town

Italian ice cream, well you just have to!

It was 7.30am when the alarm woke us, a massive thunderstorm, and when the thunder cracked straight after the lighting it made poor Harry tremble, and not just once! Not even Rachel could sleep through this, and although it was 15c outside, it didn’t stop the massive hailstones from peppering his roof, fingers crossed there’s no damage up there.

It was just 12 miles to our next Umbrian port of call.

  

It may surprise you that the World’s tallest man made waterfall wasn’t built in this millennium in Dubai, America or Singapore, but in 271BC by the Romans in Umbria.

The Cascata delle Marmore is in 3 sections which is a total of 183 metres high with the top section being the tallest at 83 metres. Although the Romans started it, there were all kinds of problems over the centuries with flooding, and it’s present day construction was not completed until the 18^th century. The history of it is fascinating, involving Roman senates representing the towns of Terni and Rieti, arguing in an effort to prevent their towns from flooding, and eventually centuries later various popes taking charge of the situation, until it was finally resolved in 1787!

The full read is here:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cascata_delle_Marmore

Today, if you want to see the waterfalls properly you need to pay 10€. We thought this a bit odd as we’d seen huge natural waterfalls in Norway for free, one of the few things that are free in Norway! But when you see how they have developed the walkways and access points for this man-made waterfall it starts to make a little more sense.

Have you ever heard of a waterfall being turned on for tourists? Well they do here, there’s a timetable for when it’s at ‘full flow’, preceded by a warning siren. This may seem a bit false, but in fact it’s the other way around. The natural flow from the river is actually diverted to supply electricity, which means at these times the water coming down the falls is ok, but not t shirt wettingly good.

I paid my 10€ and we nipped back to Harry for morning coffee and toast in preparation for what I expected to be a decent walk. It was about 10am when the sirens started and as I stepped out of the van, some 500 metres away, there was no doubt that somebody had opened the big tap, the spray was visible straight away. I arrived at the foot of the falls to see a stone bench with a bronze cloak and an engraved book containing a poem by British poet Lord Byron, referring to the river feeding the waterfall (Velino).

As I walked up the slopes and 600 steps to the very top, the trickle, if you pardon the pun, of tourists coming down looked remarkably fresh. I know I’m not as fit as I used to be, but I was surprised how relaxed these sightseers looked. It wasn’t until I eventually arrived at the top that I saw the sign for the shuttle bus! 

The tunnel leading to a rather 'wetting' experience!

No plastic cape for this tough northern lad which
 turned out to be much more than a t shirt wetting experience!

Back to the van for lunch and a ponder whether we stay the night in this newly constructed sosta, which had yet to have the barriers installed and was therefore free, or head off in search of other unexplored (for us) areas of Umbria. We plumped for the latter and headed off in a northeastly direction to a highly rated aire/sosta at Preci, at the foot of the Sibillini mountain range. The road up there was siesta inducing sweeping country roads with a 43/31mph speed limit! By the time we arrived we had almost forgotten which country we were in never mind which county, but despite making a very brief acquaintance with province of Marche, we were still (just) in Umbria.

The Italians may wind us up in many ways, mainly to do with driving and roads, but one thing we are extremely grateful for is their sostas. It’s a classic case of supply and demand, the places which are in high demand like the cities, coast, lakes and all the other touristy places charge, in some cases silly money, for very little. Off the beaten track you find all services including electricity completely free of charge, sometimes a great view, sometimes by a lovely village, that’s as good as it gets.

Umbria not Cumbria

Well we finally made it to our (Blog’s) destination, but not before we had uncovered a few interesting facts.

We departed Pitigliano after a surprisingly quiet night, which resulted in a rare lie in, after which we headed south west into the Lazio province, or to be more precise Alto Lazio. We had our coffee break at Capodimonte, by the shores of Lago di Bolsena. Capodimonte, as you may know, is famous for porcelain, but we didn’t go into the town to explore. The lake which it overlooks is a crater lake formed 370,000 years ago and its two islands, of which one is in the photograph, were formed by underwater eruptions. We pondered an overnight there but after seeing the aire we decided to continue towards Umbria. We hadn’t reached the border before we stumbled across the small town of Valentano, and to our surprise we saw it is twinned with Haltwhistle! This made us wonder if we were in the centre of Italy en route to an aire at Narni, so when we Googled ‘the geographical centre of Italy’ what should come up but Narni (in Latin, Narnia)! To save you the bother we Googled C.S.Lewis & all connections with Narnia and you may be interested to read this link:

http://www.italymagazine.com/italy/places/real-life-narnia-inspired-author

After a few tricky manoeuvres, and ignoring all satnav directions, we finally made it to the rather cleverly concealed aire on the side of the rock which Narni stands. For the first time ever we put the Silverscreens over the front windows in an effort to reflect some of the heat which was now being thrust upon us. With no shade at the aire we were in the full glare of the sun, which yet again made the temperature around the 30c, but today we were more sensible and didn’t brave the heat until post afternoon cuppa.

Yes, another amazing old town, apparently dating back as far as 600BC, but the Romans named it Narnia in 299BC. We certainly found it different from the other picturesque towns we have visited, the architecture definitely sets it apart from the medieval towns we saw in Tuscany and Liguria.

Approaching Narni/Narnia, somewhere up there we can park this wardrobe!

The only drive through church we've ever seen,
complete with traffic lights!

Back to the subject of the centre of Italy:

Further investigations revealed that there is a rock on the outskirts of the town signifying the exact centre, so it was a trip back to the tourist office to find out where this was. The lady in there said it was about a kilometre out of the town, I later thought ‘she has obviously never been there’! So, armed with a map I set off about 6pm on my quest for this mysterious rock. Things started well, on the outskirts of the town I found a tourist sign showing the direction to ‘Centro Geografico d’Italia’, even an idiot could work that one out, so I had no problem! After about a mile and reaching the outskirts of Narni’s satellite village I found a confirmation sign pointing up a steep hill. Fortunately it was only about 20c by now but enough for me to ‘glow’ somewhat. After about ½ mile I came to the tourist parking area at the entrance to a wood, ‘can’t be far now ‘ I’m thinking. It’s now turning into a lovely evening walk in the woods, the path is very good and each time I start to wane in my quest for the hidden rock I get a reassuring sign confirming that I am in fact on the right path. In the solitude there is a sense that maybe I have entered another world but I definitely didn’t come through any wardrobe. The evening sun is flickering through the trees and it is now a very enjoyable evening stroll and then……….there it is, my precious! The small rock with a chrome spire protruding, some inscription on it and a rather corny sign above, but I’d made it!