Through the Appenines
Bologna to Florence, 13th - 16th April
Leaving Bologna, I had a plan for the next few days. First, I'd go east to Imola to meet an old friend, then cover the Appenine crossing over a relaxed two days. South of the Appenines, I'd stay with a Warmshowers host for two nights in Florence. Beautiful. The only spanner in the works was the weather forecast: yellow warning for rain, and rain and wind forecast every day for the next week. I was hardly going to stay in Bologna for another week with my friend's mother, though, so I decided to push through. After all, I'm from the UK so I'm used to a bit of rain, right? My route through the Appenines was also set, as I decided to follow the advice I got from William in Modena who'd been over them a hundred times. He suggested starting from Faenza (east of Imola) and going through Brisighella, Marradi, and Fiesole to give me the gentlest ascent as well as a gentle descent, which can be just as important. It wasn't a route which my navigation apps gave me, and I couldn't find it suggested online, but I wanted to follow his human judgement.
Going from Imola to Bologna was an easy ride so I didn't mind too much when the rain started halfway there, and it gave me an excuse to spend a few hours in a warm cafe before meeting my friend for dinner. Though we haven't seen each other for six years, it was amazing how much we still had in common, and I really enjoyed getting a snapshot of his life while staying with him, meeting his friends and parents (dad makes bikepacking bags!), and of course petting their five cats. The next morning, I'd originally intended to leave somewhat early to make a good start on the hills, but in the end I left after 2pm. I don't regret a thing - I enjoyed hanging out with his friends, having a slow breakfast, chatting with dad, and seeing his town's community centre. It's interesting to me that the community centre exists at all (they are now rare in the UK) and also that the other community space we were in the previous night was owned by the Catholic Church and self-managed by young people. I'm not used to the church having such a presence in society at all, let alone with people my age.
Several Italians told me that I had chosen a very bad time to be out cycling, what with the upcoming rain, but this is a country where they have good weather so much of the time that a mild drizzle will keep people indoors to watch Netflix (or so my reasoning went). In truth it might have been a good idea to stay in Imola another night, since Monday was supposed to be the worst of the rain, but I didn't want to impose on my friend's hospitality or inconvenience my Florence Warmshowers host by rearranging, so off into the rain I went. It lived up to the hype. This was no Netflix drizzle, but a proper downpour. I switched to a waterproof camera for photos, and I was very glad to be wearing an all-waterproof outer layer. The downside of all this rain protection was that it also retained all my body heat, and I was soon sweating as the hills began.
Ideally, I'd have covered more than half of the ascent on the first day, leaving me some energy the next day finish the ascent, reach Florence and have a look around. In the end, it didn't work out like that. I covered much less than half of the ascent and stopped in Marradi. The rain was to continue all evening and all night, so, soaked, I allowed myself the luxury of a night indoors in a bed & breakfast rather than camping. The bed turned out to actually be a whole apartment to myself (including a kitchen containing breakfast) for 40 euros, which I was pretty pleased with, and apart from anything else I was incredibly happy to be able to dry my clothes.
On Tuesday, the rain continued. I still had most of the climbing to do, and it was a long slow push with my heavy bike. My preferred way of climbing big hills is to drop into a very low gear and keep a slow, steady pace where my legs can stay happy and I don't need to stop for breaks, and I almost achieved that on my Appenine ascent albeit needing a few more breaks than I'd have liked. It was good sometimes to remind myself that if I looked away from the road once in a while I was in a gorgeous setting, with long valley views, cute little rabbits, and elegant railway viaducts. Thankfully, the rain seemed to have kept most Italians at home and there were very few cars the whole way up. Reaching the top was an incredible moment, catching me entirely by surprise, and even more fun was coasting downhill for ten kilometres with the road to myself - my singing changed from the uphill "I'll get through this" marching songs to giddy celebration. The weather followed the script too: as I came down, the rain stopped and there was sunshine. Everything seemed more beautiful.
That wasn't the end of my day's hills, though: I still needed to get to Florence and I wanted to take the route through Fiesole as William had told me. He hadn't given me the specific roads though, and I think my apps led me astray as I was directed up hills that were steeper than anything from the earlier Appenine climbs. My lowest gear was not low enough for these and I ended up walking my bike up for some time, which was a bit disheartening after I'd already been through what was supposed to be the challenge. Upon finally reaching Fiesole there was, as promised, a great view of Florence, as well as some Roman ruins on the hillside (but I just missed their opening hours). Finally I descended into Florence itself, where I'd stay for two nights (15th and 16th) but more on that next time.
From here on, I've got no more friends to stay with - it'll all be camping, Warmshowers, or paid accomodation. I'm hoping for better weather so that I'll be comfortable camping more, but it also doesn't lend itself to spending the evening in a city. I'm also a little apprehensive of the hills which fill the rest of Italy, and further in the future, Trans Dinarica in the Balkans. I suspect the Dinaric Alps will make the Appenines look like child's play, and it'd probably make sense for me to try to get some lower gears on my bike to make climbing easier. It's still hard for me to take seriously the idea that I'll even get to the Balkans, though - it feels impossibly far away right now, and arrogant to assume I'll ever make it there, or even not change my plans before then. I might decide to spend longer in Italy and Greece, or jump to Northern Europe in the warm months, or skip to China early. There's a fundamental tradeoff to make when travelling: breadth and depth. Do you stay in every town you pass through, see everything there is to see, or do you use your time to see more varied places instead? I haven't found my balance yet, but as with many things, I'll figure it out as I go.