Culture and Connection (Part II)

My biking adventure through tourist crazed Italy continued. After two summers of staying home due to covid, it was clear that Europeans wanted to head to the beach. As a result, my bright idea to ride over the strips of land that buffer Venice from the open sea called, “The Lagoons of Venice” was not a great idea for this time of year. Any other time of year it would be spectacular, but not summer.

There are three inlets from Chioggia to cross the Lagoon. To make it to a camp ground, I rode my bike to boat number one, crossed, and then rode to the next boat in quick succession.

After that, there was a boat from Caorle to Bibione that went along marshland, then a five minute river crossing to Lignano, and finally a sprint to Lignano Sabbiadora to make the last boat to Grado. From there I got the heck off the manic coastline even though I was sad to leave the beautiful Adriatic Sea. In Grado, I turned north and headed back up into the Alps on the Alpe-Adria bike route towards the Austrian town of Villach.

I rode up the foothills to Villach as most bikers were riding down to the sea. For the rest of my trip, I was going in the “wrong direction” meaning up instead of down. It was perfect; a gentle climb into bliss. Once again, I was surrounded by green grass and foothills with mountains looming in the distance or just over the horizon.

After two nights in Villach, I cycled west and joined the Drau Bike Route (Drau Radweg) up, up, up through gorgeous Alpine meadows and foothills following the Drau River to the town of Lienz and finally to its stunning terminus in Tobblach/Dobbiaco, Italy. It was serene and contemplative until I got to Lienz. In Lienz it turned into a cycling Bikalooza. For two days, I fought against an endless current of people on every type of rigged bike imaginable. Who knew it was a thing to ride your bike downhill from Tobblach to Lienz and then put your bike on the cargo train for the return? Well, apparently, everyone but me. There were grandmothers on giant three wheeled trikes in their bathing suits, parents with kids on the front of the bike, in the back and standing up on every possible surface, pets being pulled in trailers or in baskets, and loads of electric bikes for those less inclined to pedal. Unfortunately, I didn’t stop and take pictures. Survival was the only thing on my mind. The frenzy of unskilled riders all coming towards me in mass was the most dangerous part of my entire trip. These photos were before Lienz.

I arrived in Toblach/Dobbiaco midday. It is the jumping off point to go to Cortina de Ampezzo. I’ve always wanted to go to Cortina ever since I met Alessandro in Mexico. We traveled together for a few months. He was like a mountain goat. He said it was because he came from the mountains of Cortina. After nearly 30 years, I sent him a message that I was near Cortina. He wasn’t there anymore, but I was still compelled to go.

It was the height of tourist season and there was no places to camp and no hotel vacancies in Toblach. There were also no places to stay in Cortina. Alex said I could stay with his mother, but it was too far out of town. So, I decided to go for it anyway and “wild camp” along the way.

Long story short, that didn’t turn out very well. Literally, just as I was putting up my tent, a giant storm moved in and a huge rain cloud burst open and crushed my tent with water before I could manage to get the rainfly on. I, and everything I owned, was sopping wet. My only saving grace was that I hadn’t taken my sleeping bag or sleep pad out of its water proof bag yet.

I gathered my wet belongings and rode to a closed restaurant. There was a woman inside. I was hoping she would let me sleep on the bench under the awning. “Nope, you can’t do that. But, you can ride a kilometer back down the road and sleep in the wooden arch protected from the rain.” Okay then, that’s what I will do.

After Cortina, I continued the ride up to Innsbruck. Thankfully, the route became peaceful again and the landscape stunning.

From Innsbruck I took a detour. That friend of mine, Alessandro from Cortina, now lives in Florence. He invited me to visit him in Florence and mistakenly said, “Stay as long as you’d like.” I stored my bike and belongings at the hostel in Innsbruck and jumped on a train to Florence. This was the “vacation” part of my trip. Alex has an amazing apartment in the heart of Florence. I stayed seven nights (Alex was only there for three. He was in Rome for work the other four nights and I had the apartment to myself).

From Florence, I took day trips to Siena and San Gimignano, a lovely hilltop town. Then I took the train to Bologna and stayed over night on my way back to Innsbruck. In Bologna, I met up with the amazing Mariano Lorefice. He is a Argentinian, Italian who is “famous” in Argentina as an outside adventurer. He has ridden around the world on his bicycle, competed in ultra triathlons, climbed the highest peaks and now leads adventure cycling tours around the world. I “met” him on instagram. Crazy, I know. It was an honor to met him in person and spend the day together on a bike ride around Bologna.

From Bologna, I hopped back on the train to Innsbruck and resumed my ride north through Bravaria, Germany. I had time to chill, so I spent two days at Achensee and four nights at the Tegernsee. The longest I had stayed at any one place except Florence. At Tegernsee it rained for about 24 hours straight and I endured two nights of heavy rain in my little tent, but I never got wet (inside the tent).

I only stayed with two Warmshowers hosts the entire trip. There are thousands of hosts out there, but in the summer, everyone is on vacation and no one gets back to you. I get it. I stayed with this host family in Bad Tolz on my way to Munich. It was wonderful. I learned a lot about the history of the town. On the way out, Peter rode with me and showed me the camp where his father was a Hitler youth. The space is now for summer camps and outdoor retreats that promote peace.

Finally, I rode into Munich for the grand prize. I lived in Munich a lifetime ago. I have a close friend there whom I hadn’t seen for over 35 years. Eunice (Nici) is Brazillian not German. We hitchhiked all over Eastern Europe together way back in the time of the former Soviet Union. We laughed for hours retelling all the stories of our youth. What better way to end an amazing 10-week bike trip in Europe.

This European trip was everything I hoped it would be. I saw old friends and met new friends, I had delicious food and strong Italian coffee, I enjoyed the mountains and swam in the sea, I learned some history and had conversations about the current state of affairs. I am blessed.

I also have to add that I had NO flat tires! Thank you Schwalbe Marathon Mondial – you’re the best!

I promise never to write a blog post this long again in the future. I couldn’t write during the trip because my iPad was kaput. Thanks for hanging in until the end.

With love,

Denise