Slept well. Woke at 8. It was raining. During a short break in the rain I packed and set off for Verona, via lake Garda. Beeline seemed to be very reluctant to take me that way. I later found out why. It didn’t take me long to wind through the hills to the lake, which is surrounded by spectacular towering hills and cliffs. I wound my way through the town, heading for the east coast of the lake.
I soon found myself winding up through the hills on an extremely serpentine path. I passed several people who later passed me, and back and forth. A thunder storm had started when I was down in town which had caused me to linger in the shelter of a shop long enough to consume an entire packet of Oreos, and to resolve to book a 65 euro hotel in Verona. I could tell today would be bad. I was right.
Thunder continued as I climbed and lightning struck the lake right in front of me. It was very atmospheric, and the mist shrouded views were epic and mysterious. As I reached what I hoped was the top of the hill Beeline directed me down a path which did not exist. Shit. I had done it again. I resolved to take the other shore.
I freewheeled back down the hill. It was lucky I had changed my brake pads that morning. The path grew rough and I put on my gloves. I was thankful for that choice later. I went through the town and out the other side onto the fast roads which I shared with cars, and which went through tunnels. I sped through nevertheless. In one I noticed a parallel metal path just outside the tunnel. I thought this might be safer. I was wrong. I took this route at great speed for a few hundred feet. I noticed a huge bump approaching, and I braked.
The bike skidded out from under me. I was thrown off and narrowly avoided hitting a concrete pillar and landing in the traffic strewn road. As it was I got away with a few cuts on my knee and shin, (I need more plasters !) [I still have the shin scar] and a damaged rear derailleur. Very damaged. Cracked even. FUCK! Fuck! Fuck! The tunnel echoed with my swears. This was a bad spot.
My hands were blackened as I set to work bending and removing the derailleur from the tire and the chain. It refused to move up so I had to disconnect the cable. When I reconnected it nothing worked. It was, however, fixed enough that I could cycle to 20 mins back to a bike repair shop in the middle gear. The owner told me it would take an hour to fix. He gave me Swarfega to clean my hands, and a helpful local washed them off for me with a hose. The other owner asked me about my journey. He seemed to consider the fall a great adventure. That made me feel better. I left my bike and am now in a bar eating pizza and drinking coke, waiting for the text to tell me to come back.
***
I’m drinking a camomile tea in my hotel in Verona as I write this entry. I remembered that someone once told me camomile sends you to sleep. I couldn’t remember where I’d heard it for the longest time. C said it to me on our first date. Odd that.
The second half of today has been physically challenging. At 5 I received a text to say my bike was done. The owner of the shop assured me that I’d get to Verona at 8, with time to spare for a dip in the lake. He was only 1 and a half hours off. I sped along the roads I’d already taken, passing my fall spot, then out onto further roads as the mountains fell away to become shallow hills. I alternated between zooming along the roads with the cars or taking the nice, safe bike paths, on which I got stuck behind slow cyclists and pedestrians. The views, as always, were spectac. But I didn’t stop to admire them. I had 70km to go. [that was a whole day cycle sometimes!]
Some time after 7 I stopped for ten mins and took a cooling and refreshing dip in lake Garda. It’s much cleaner and deeper than Constance. After that I cycled with my shorts drying behind me, and continued along the coast. Beeline tried to take me over steep cobbled hills as a “short-cut”. I quickly gave up on that idea. As I left the lake I was once again winding through vineyards and orchards, watching the kms tick away. A short stretch on a river and some inner city bike paths brought me to an industrial area of Verona, and my hotel. There was no reception, and after some confusion I got my room code – 1999. I got in, undressed, perhaps foolishly put some clothes in the wash, and had a shower.
It's fortunate I got a hotel tonight as I seem to have lost my soap. I stole some. The tap doesn’t work so I’m drinking chilled water from the fridge, and took some from the shower for my tea. Around 10 I tried to go to a nearby grill, but an unfriendly Chinese woman scared me off. Instead I resolved to cycle into town.
On the way I passed a buzzing bar with live music and food. I stopped there and got a beer and a fantastic pastrami burger. As I finished it the music stopped, and everyone tramped in due to a sudden thunderstorm. There were so many people my age. If only I spoke Italian. I left after 11 and cycled back through flooded streets and puddles so deep they soaked my shoes while I was on the bike. I’m now writing this to kill time until my washing is done.
***
Hung my washing up. Slept well.
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