Papa kaput
Radicofani to Rome, 21st - 22nd April
A funny thing about meeting people while riding is that your options are basically 'chat for a few minutes and say goodbye' or 'become roommates', with not a lot in between. Paul, Clem, and I chose the second option and had a brilliant two days cycling from Radicofani to Rome. We went quickly, at 80km/day on somewhat hilly terrain, but I didn't mind. It's fun seeing how other people do things, and I enjoyed that we didn't ride strictly together but took riding at our own place and met for breaks - it takes the social worry out of taking a little stop whenever you like, or singing to yourself.
We began with an exciting gravel descent from Radicofani followed by a mostly main roads route south in the direction of Rome. Paul and Clem mainly handled the route planning in French, and I was happy to step back a bit to keep things simple. The weather was excellent and we made quick progress towards our lunch location on Lake Bolsena. A surprise came as we stopped for a late-morning break and learnt that the Pope had died. Obviously very sad for his friends, but for us it was mostly a logistical concern - suddenly Rome would be very different this week, and Paul and I hadn't yet got anywhere to stay.
At the lake, we enjoyed another big picnic. Probably my favourite benefit of travelling as a group is the ability to share food so we can eat more interesting meals. I'd heard that picnics were an Italian Easter Monday tradition, and we got a full demonstration as the lakeside got quite busy with noisy children and tired parents. Paul also introduced me to the technique of applying sunscreen using the bike rear-view mirror. Apparently that's how he shaves. I admire his commitment to the trip - lots of camping, lots of ingredients, and he's still faster than me on his very loaded bike. As we shopped for lunch right before ascending a steep hill (the lake is a volcanic crater) he picked up a huge bottle of iced tea for us. "That'll be heavy," I said. "I don't care," he said, and beat me to the top. In the evening, we found my favourite campsite to date: a meadow full of poppies next to an orchard of olive trees. In a flat spot in the orchard we cooked another big dinner, with lots of pasta and Paul's classic sandwiches with Philadelphia and onions. Paul carries a Helinox camping chair since he's had some back trouble (and because of course he carries comfy camping accessories), and both me and Clem were immensely jealous of his comfort as we sat on the ground like plebs watching the sun set over the meadow.
In typical wild camping style, we left soon after sunrise and stopped at a cafe first thing. Me and Paul booked an Airbnb for the next two nights in Rome after having had no luck with Warmshowers and Couchsurfing. I don't like spending the money, and he liked it even less, but for a place like Rome I would hate to just pass through quickly. I want to have enough time to see the city and also to rest. Our road was once again main roads towards Rome, with a little Via Francigena. As we stopped for a roadside break in a village, some curious construction workers came out of their van to chat to us. The standard stuff: where are you from, where are you going, etc. People are usually quite surprised, and I've noticed a lot of people get particularly excited about London - often they've been as tourists or follow the football, and quite a few have told me they lived in London in their youth. In this case, one worker proudly showed me his Scotland branded t-shirt. But my favourite part was what another one said regarding the news about Pope Francis: "Papa kaput". I'm guessing he wasn't very Catholic, because he said it with such Italian excitement, like it was just great news he'd be getting a day off work, and the phrase now lives rent free in my brain. Papa kaput.
It was a heavy day of cycling featuring some beautiful villages, another lakeside lunch (this time a restaurant), and then increasing exurban ugliness as we approached Rome from the north. By the time we reached the official city border, we were cycling through a noisy mess with nowhere pleasant in sight (feel free to leave La Giustiniana off your Italy travel itinerary). It got worse from there. At one point we were navigating what felt like congested small motorway junctions, dodging through drivers who viewed lanes as suggestions. Paul led the way for us and I followed his tail with complete faith. Though I'd only known him two days, I already trusted him with my life, and it worked out. I followed him through the jaws of motorway death without a scratch and actually rather enjoyed myself. To top it off, we had a truly incredible descent into Rome itself down one of its seven hills. The adrenaline from flying down that road with its tight corners and beautiful views is impossible to describe, but here's one number: according to Paul's GPS, our maximum speed was over 50km/h.
Central Rome was much less fun to ride through, with very dense foot traffic on many streets. At this point our group separated, as Clem went to her Warmshowers host and Paul and I gave up cycling and walked to our centrally located Airbnb. It was sad to think that we'd probably not ride again together with our paths diverging in the coming days. I'd quite enjoyed being a trio. For the next two days at least, we'd all be in Rome, but none of us were sure how long we'd stay. I also felt strange to have arrived at such a landmark moment after going towards it for two weeks. I've now covered about half the length of Italy! My next targets are Naples and Bari, although I still don't know exactly what I'll do from there, as I have no route planned for Greece. That'll be some homework for my time in Rome.