17 giugno 2009

What an absolutely awesome day. Despite the heat overnight I did manage to get some sleep, and I am getting used to these hard Italian matresses. It is too hot to get into bed and I have slept on top with not even a sheet over me for the last few nights and it is even stickier and hotter here in Firenze (Florence) I got up and packed my bag so the staff can shift it to my new room and then went down for breakfast. A good range of food for breakfast – the traditional bread and croissants, but as well fruit and cereal and yoghurt, cake (still can't get my head around eating cake for breakfast) as well as ham and cheese slices, and a huge big bowl of fresh fruit – peaches, apricots, oranges, apples and cherrys. But the big surprise was the push button coffee machine that serves latte, cappuccino, mocha etc like we get at home in places like Subway. I didn't expect to see one here, what with coffee being such a culture, but I guess when you have to feed a dining room full of people all wanting coffee for breakfast this is the easiest way to do it. The cappuccino isn't too bad actually and I have two of them with my breakfast.
I brought my notebook down with me, in the hope that I was going to be able to connect to wifi, but alas, still no joy (but of note I was able to connect when I came back in this afternoon and I can connect again tonight.)

I left the hotel early, I had about a 15-20 minute walk to Florencetown, and as I had no idea what I was looking for, I thought I had better set out early. Just as well, it was quite difficult to find and even a street seller selling belts and wallets and other leather goods didn't know where to send me. As it turned out it was about 10 doors up the road. But a tiny narrow door, I was worried I was going to have so slide in sideways, and the sign on the wall was smaller than a business card. My navigational powers seemed to be much more in control today, and I negotiated my way to the street with no trouble whatsever, and as I was early I went for a wander and found the piazza with the David statues. Most impressive, but these aren't in fact the original David and it would seem that I am not going to get time to go to see it because I have to catch my train reasonably early tomorrow. Oh well never mind, the substitutes were pretty impressive and I will make do with having seen them.
I wandered back to Florencetown to be met, downstairs on the street by the receptionist and the chef, Giovanni. They took me up a couple of flights of stairs to their office where I paid for my day and then Giovanni explained that I was the only guest today, so we were now going to walk to the market to buy the fresh produce for our meal.
We walked quite a way, but it was fun, and we walked through a huge big market (and I was hoping I could find my way back to it this afternoon or tomorrow morning before I leave but as it turned out that was a no to both those options)
At the market we wandered through all the different areas and Giovanni pointed out different points of interest along the way, including a stall that sold traditional street food including roast beef and tripe. This - market is huge and you can buy absolutely everything – bread, pasta, meat, chicken, wine, cheese and then we went upstairs to the huge big vegetable market. Giovanni led the way to the back of the market to a wee stall where he buys his fruit and vegetables for his cooking class, all locally grown products.

He picked out zuchinni (with the flowers attached – a lighter green than what we get at home and with ridged skins). He bought an aubergine and some parsley and a big tomato. While we were waiting he handed me an apricot to taste and a couple of cherrys. Again they were just so juicy and sweet. Back down the stairs to buy a half a loaf of fresh bread and back past the stall that was selling the tripe and Giovanni ordered me a bowl of it to try. Now trying very hard not to think back to that disgusting tripe we used to serve up in the hospital when I was doing my training, and not to think of what it is and where it comes from, I tried it. It was kind of chewy, despite having been cooked for a long time, but it had a tasty juice poured over it, and was served with a pesto and a chilli sauce, and all-in-all it wasn't too bad. Now i'm not sure that I would want to cook it, but I would try it again if it was cooked like that. (just an aside here - there is a group of people who meet regularly in Tauranga to eat tripe – I wonder if any of them cook it like this, or whether it is all done the English way – tripe and onions in a white sauce.)

So then it was on to the wineseller to get some wine to have with this meal, and it was here that I bought some wee bottles of Limoncello to take home. From here, we left the market and caught a bus to via Luca Vanducci where we were to cook this meal. What a fabulous place, quiet, relaxing and inviting, with examples of Giovanni's artwork on the walls.]

The menu was to be: bruschetta with garlic and tomato to start. This was very tasty and I will be able to reproduce this quite easily at home, using ciabatta which I buy from Foodtown.

Giovanni told me that the secret to good Italian food is simplicity and using the freshest of produce. Here they shop daily for what they want to cook that day. What a wonderful way to do it, but imagine at home having to go to the supermarket every single day. That would drive me nuts, but this experience has encouraged me to grow even more of my own food when I get home.
Next came the rissotto. I was so pleased he had chosen this dish, as I really wanted to learn how to do this, and I will cook this for you all when I get home. The secret here is to cook it slowly and keep adding a little stock to keep it moist. We used zuchinni and the flower. It was delicious, so tasty and so creamy. And here I made another promise to myself – Never again will I use a Rissotto mix from Continental or Maggie or any other pre-packaged variety. It really has no resemblance at all to the real thing.

Now for the main dish – beef meatballs and the side dish was aubergine, which was sliced then dry fried and topped with origano, mozarello, tomato etc and topped with another slice of grilled aubergine and then dry fried again until the cheese was melted.
All through the cooking Giovanni would give other suggestions such as how to cook pasta, what other ingredients could have been used etc. He always uses unsalted butter and then seasons to taste afterwards
The desert – fresh berries sauteed with sugar and rum, flamed and then served over plain ice cream. What could be better than that.
And all this washed down with a bottle of Tuscan red wine. What a perfetto way to spend a day – great food, good wine and pleasant company. Giovanni was a perfect host, great teacher and such a pleasant young man. His English was perfect, so I didn't get to practice my Italian, much easier to have a good conversation in English.

He showed me whereabouts I was on the map and explained that I could get a Number 6 bus back to the piazza, but it didn't look too far to walk and I figured it would do me much more good to walk – wear off some of these calories and also experience the city by walking through the streets. It was a lovely walk, past lots of shops, and again every shop is different here. Every shop has different merchandise, not like at home where each town is the same, a warehouse, a supermarket, all the food chains (McD, BK, Pizza Hut, Subway etc, for the food and all the other franchise stores – Mitre 10, Freedom, Farmers, Amcal's and Glassons etc etc.)
Here, small boutique shops, each one much different, not containing racks and racks of the same clothes. Even in the bigger department store I went into in Padova, there weren't racks of the same, just in different colours. Every second or third shop is a bar, or a gelateria, or a food shop of some sort. The variety of food is also amazing – the flavours of ice cream is extensive. The cake shops – chocolate, meringues, tarts, biscuits – so much to choose from – and I am very wisely resisting the temptation.

I really enjoyed my stroll back to the hotel – it took about an hour to slowly make my way back – looking in lots of shops as I went. It was very hot and rain was threatening, with a few large drops of rain, but it didn't come to anything. I stopped for a drink in a wee bar close to the hotel, and on my arrival at Hotel Byron I find the lobby full of people and luggage, spilling out onto the street. My goodness what is happening here. Fifty something tourists from Utah have invaded the place and are trying to sort themselves into their rooms, but they have taken over the whole place, the tiny little elevator and getting through to the reception desk to get my key (for my new room on the 4th floor) and then to try and get the elevator was a real mission. In the end I chose to walk up the stairs – phew, now for a shower and a nanna nap. I am getting used to this afternoon rest – hope I am not going to need them when I get back to work.
After my rest I decided I should try and book an hotel room in Perugia for tomorrow night and so go on-line to do this. And a chose a funky looking hotel called Etruscan Chocohotel. Do a google search for it and see where I am going to be staying. It is a chocoholics paradise. I check out the trains to Perugia and think I might rock on up to Florencetown in the morning and do the cycle tour through the city before I leave, and I decide to head out to the piazza now and take a ride in one of the horse and carts I saw last night. So I get myself spruced up for an evening stroll and head downstairs and hand in my key at reception. I am then grabbed by the lady at the desk, who tells me she has been waiting for me to come downstairs, and takes me by the arm and leads me through to the lounge, where she offers me food and a drink of bubbles and tells me she wants to hear all about my day with the chef. She had not booked anybody on this tour before so wanted to know all about it. It turns out that she in fact owns the hotel.
We talk and eat and drink for ages, she is just such an absolute delight, so friendly, so interesting and again speaks such good English. She wants to hear about the rest of my holiday and is amazed to hear that I am cycling around all on my own. We talk about our families and other travels (she goes to London and America frequently and in fact was in London at the same time I was). She tells me that she has a large group from Utah at this time every year, and that Florence is very busy this week particularly because there is a big Fashion Fair on where all the designers and buyers from the big European fashion houses are in town. We are joined by a delightful young couple and she tells them all about my cycling and the young girl asks politely if she could ask my age – I tell her and she claps her hand over her mouth and says how incredible that is for me to be doing this. (Actually Giovanni said the same thing this morning). The couple leave, they are going to the fashion fair - she is beautiful (dark curly hair, immaculate makeup, beautiful jewelled dangly earrings and a stunning outfit – black flowing pants in a very soft chiffon type material (but not see-through) gathered in at the ankles, giving them a look almost of harem pants but much more flattering; high heel shoes, a very wide belt worn over the hips and a strapless top. She looks stunning.
The hotel owner then asks me what I am to do tomorrow and I tell her I will catch the train to Perugia. She tells me that this is not as easy as a train from here to Roma. I will have to change and so she takes me to her desk and looks up on Google (whatever did we do before google) and prints out the details. I have to go to a different train station (so much for getting an hotel near the station) and it will be better to get a cab as it will be difficult with my suitcase to get on the bus. She tells me to go two doors down and buy the train ticket from her friend at the travel shop, and then she asks about a hotel. I tell her I have made a booking this time, I was not going to make the mistake of arriving in a town without one like I did when I arrived in Florence. I told her about the chocohotel and she said “surely not” she looked it up on google and when she saw the picture of the room with the basket of chocolate on the bed she said “Oh Jesus” and each page she looked at she said “Oh Jesus” again. By now she was wanting to come with me. She asked me to let her know what it is like as she had never heard of it before and would like to know so she may recommend other guests if they are looking for an hotel in Perugia.

By now it is getting late and she is needing to get away home, so off she goes. It is starting to get dark now, so I opt just to go across the road for an ice cream and a soft drink – have aborted the plan for the horse and cart ride – will have to do that another time. I seriously hope to return to Florence in the future, it is beautiful, it is friendly, it is bustling but not unpleasantly so.
When I get to the gelateria I choose instead an apple tart and an espresso and sit for a while just enjoying being out amongst the locals. Its 10pm and I don't feel scared or lonely at all. There are so many people about and I am, after-all, just across the road from my hotel.
Then it is back to my room on the 4th floor. There is a little ladder to climb up to open the window, but all you can see is roof tops. I open the window in the bathroom and look the other way, and again only roof tops, but with that window open I can smell the aroma of the city – food smells lingering in the hot heavy air. It is still very hot and I have another cool shower before shutting down for the night.

And sadly, that is it for Florence. The hotel owner suggests catching the 12.13 train from Campo di Marte train station and that I let the Estruscan know when I am arriving so that they will meet me at the station. She tells me it is 46km from Perugia (but I have checked again and it looks to me like only 1.5km from the station – let's see which one of us is right.
Oh darn there go those church bells again, what is the time? Wow it is 7.14am I had better close now, post this and get my shower and get down to breakfast before those 50 Americans.
Ciao for another day

16.6.09

Goodbye Il Feudo. A breakfast of croissant (those bready pre-packaged type) a pottle of yoghurt and a cup of coffee, and before we knew it Sarah was here and ready to take us to the train station at Vicenza. Chris and Allen all set to head to Venice, and me planning to go to Florence.
We make it to Vicenza in plenty of time to get our tickets sorted. I had my Rail Pass to validate which gives me 8 days travelling over two months in three countries (Italy, Switzerland and France), supposedly the cheapest way for me to get around. But I don't know so. My train ticket from Mestre (Venice) to Vicenza only cost me E3.85 so that's a heck of a lot of train travel to make up the $1200 that House of Travel charged me.
So I line up for my ticket – I have to travel from Vicenza to Padova and then change trains to Florence and they charged me another E20.00 That makes a very expensive train ride. I found out later that the E20 is to reserve the seat. Anyway I was hopeful of travelling on the same train as the others as far as Padova, however the ticket salesman booked me on the express train direct to Padova and they were on the slower, stop every station train leaving ¾ of an hour before mine. Allen explained that there is a carriage number and a seat number on the ticket and I discovered that I was on carriage 2. Guess what – yep it was at the back end of the train and I was standing alongside carriage 10 or 11 or some number like that when the train pulled up, so I had to hike it down the platform and heave my heavy suitcase up into the carriage. You have to climb three or four steps to get up, and that is no mean feat with a handbag and a suitcase. Then you have to find your seat. Well I opted to stand in the foyer (I'm sure its not called a foyer on a train but that will do for now) as it was only a 10 minute trip to Padova.
Ah, so off at Padova, heave my suitcase down those steps without tipping a-over-turkey, down the stairs, along the subway and up the stairs to platform No 1 to wait for the train to Roma, via Bologna and Florence. I ask a girl who looked like she knew what she was doing how to determine which end of the train to aim for, because this time I was in carriage 1. She informed me that I was to be travelling 1st class, (aha so that's why it cost so much more than the other day, and of interest I should have been 1st class on the Vicenza to Padova as welll) so that would be at the front of the train so I headed up the platform.
Well guess what - they were the 2nd class carriages up this end and 1st class is at the other end, and what seemed like a mile away. I have no idea what number carriage I was getting into , but the seats were numbered in the hundreds, and mine should have been Carriage 1, seat 21. Oh what the hell, I am on the train, I have a validated ticket, I also have a rail pass so they can't kick me off, and second class is very comfortable anyway, so I decide to stay right there.

About 10 minutes into the trip, a conductor comes along and tells me I am in the wrong place. I tell her I know, but she says at the next station only 2min stop so best to stay where I am. I can change at Bologna if I want to be in first class. Well I stick my head out the door at Bologna, the other end of the train seems an awful long way away, and there are hundreds of people trying to get on the train, so I opt to stay where I am and hope like heck that I don't have someone else's seat. If I have I will stand by my suitcase, which this time is in the case rack between the carriages.

A man in the seat across the aisle notices the novel I am reading in English and decides he is going to chat – he is an Italian, an artist, a little bit younger than me, and he decides to rabbit on about abstract art and poets and artists - I have no idea what he is talking about. He also tells me about his trip to Paris when he was 16 and he talks all about the All Blacks. I just nod intelligently and hope that he will get sick of talking soon, because even though he is speaking English I am having difficulty understanding him, he talks so fast.
Eventually he drops off to sleep and leaves me to my book. Not long after that I hear this conversation in English in the seat in front of me, and I spend the rest of the journey chatting to this very pleasant young American lad (Scott) who is travelling around Europe. He's a bright and enthusiastic young man and I really enjoy talking to him, and as he is hopeful of visiting Oz and NZ in the future I give him my card with email details and as he rides a motor bike and is wanting to ride around NZ I tell him to get in touch as my son rides a motor bike as well and I promise him a visit to a dairy farm which he thought would be great.

And then in no time I was disembarking in Florence. A very busy station, and I step out into the heat. Oh boy it is hot here. Along the street in front of the station are a line of hotels, so I try to get a room. Not looking good, all full. After trying 5 I am starting to feel slightly anxious. The thought of sleeping on the bench at the station is not really all that appealing, but thankfully back up the street and round the corner into a more back street I find a place that can take me for one night only. I asked for a single room 2 nights, he said all that was available was a double for 1 night. I said “I'll take it” and the deal is done.

I go up to my room via the elevator (now that was a bit of a challenge as well – didn't have automatic doors so I had to figure out how to open the blooming thing first off. Then push the button to go up to the second floor, then figure out how to get out again. It was really tiny, about the size of a broom cupboard (just enough room for me and my case). But I get to my room - oh lovely and cool, I'm not going to want to leave here.
And for the first time since I have been in Italy – a jug and some sachets of coffee and tea bags. Oh goody I can have a drink before I venture out. By now it is about 3pm.

In the foyer I had picked up some tourist brochures and had chosen a couple of things to do tomorrow, so went down to get a map of the area, and to ask if they could suggest where I might be able to stay tomorrow night. It didn't matter if I was further away from the station I tell them. And guess what, the lovely young man, who was now joined by his colleague said he could do something for me, he had a different room tomorrow night, and that if I left my luggage packed up in the morning they would transfer it to the new room for me. I thanked them heartily and then asked them to see if they could book me on a tour. They said they would try and would confirm it when I came back in this evening, marked all the things in the near vicinity that I need to see and sent me on my way to go and explore this wonderful city.

I left the hotel, and ventured out into the late afternoon heat. Not a breath of wind, people everywhere and it is so so hot. But what a wonderful place. Everyone is so friendly. The buildings are old, the shops are full of the most beautiful stuff – food, jewellery, clothes, shoes and accessories. My first stop was at a bar to get some food. I hadn't eaten since breakfast at 7.30 so I had lasagne and an orange juice, and then wandered out to see the sights. The cathedral – what an amazing building, a couple of churches I went into, they are just so beautiful. I don't get sick of looking at them.
I find the most amazing ceramics shop – all hand painted – platters, tableware, even dining tables and outdoor tables. Oh how I wish I could send one of those home for my wee courtyard. They do export but the lady said the cost to NZ would be phenomenal as they are so heavy. What a shame. I picked up a brochure and will just have to be content with the picture.
Three hours later and the place is still buzzing, people everywhere, and it is still very hot and the sun is still high in the sky. I have wandered quite a way, and so I decide it is time to orientate myself to this here map and find my way back to the hotel. But I am having a bit of difficulty still, my magnetic north has not tuned in yet. And the streets seem to go in every which way, although on the map they look as if they go in squares. Finally I figure out where I am and make it back to my hotel okay.

Now one of the pieces of advice I read on the internet before I came away – Do not wander around a strange city with a map in your hand. It is a dead give-away that you are a tourist and probably lost and therefore vunerable. Well another dumb piece of advice. Every second person in Florence is wandering around with a map in their hand trying to work out where they are, so I do stick to the other piece of advice and hover near to someone else who is pondering over a map and look as if I am perhaps with them. But, I don't feel unsafe, I have not been approached by anyone, and as yet not had my butt pinched. See I told you I would be too old for them to worry about and that I would be perfectly safe. So much for all the safety advice I got before I came away.

Sarah swapped my book for a book written by and Englishman about his travels in Italy, and she said I may get some ideas for my book. I told Chris, Allen and Sarah that my book so far would only appeal to foodaholics, and that I probably wouldn't get rich from the sale of it, and Allen said I would need to find some sex and violence to make it appealing to a wider audience, and if by the time I finish my cycling around Tuscany and I haven't anything exciting to report, then I had better just make something up!!!!! They said I needed to sell heaps of copies of my book so that I could afford to do more Headwater trips (this was their 7th) and reckoned each one got better.

Well, I am safely tucked up back in my hotel room for the night. I bought a slice of pizza down the road and brought it back to have in my room, and for the first time since arriving in Italy I was disappointed. It looked great in the shop but he heated the slice in the microwave and he obviously overdid it because it was hard and yuck.

I was thrilled to be told on arriving back at the hotel that they have booked me on the trip tomorrow morning, and I have a fifteen minute walk to the meeting point and have to be there by 10am. I am doing the “Wannabe Italiano Cooking Class” The brochure says join the chef at the local market to pick the products we will use. Each participant will involve themselves in “hands on” in the preparation of the recipes. The full menu includes antipasto, pasta, main dish and side dish, and a dessert. Afterwards everyone sits down at the table to enjoy the fruits of our labour. Wines will be appropriately chosen to accompany the meal. So how cool is that. 5 hours. I am so excited.
Looking at the brochure, they advertise a trip “Ferrari driving among the hills of Tuscany” …...............and “Balloon flight over the Tuscan countryside.” I will see about those, they both might just be a very good idea.

So, from Florence – Arrividerci for another day. I will have a early night, and be up bright and early to make sure I make it to the meeting point in time. Website for the tours if you want to check it out www.florencetown.com I haven't been able to connect to wi-fi in my room tonight, so will take my notebook downstairs at breakfast time and try to post this and yesterdays blogs.
Ciao

Monday
Wow, I must be fitter than I thought, or these hills are gentler today, or there is some pretty high energy stuff in the bread and yoghurt here in Italy, because I have made it to the San Pancrazio Franciscan Monastery and it is only 11.38am, and it doesn't open for viewing until 3pm, so I will have my picnic lunch and enjoy the peace and solitude of the monastery garden.
I set off on my trusty bicycle a little after 8.45am after a breakfast of bread and cherry jam and yoghurt washed down with a black coffee, and a piece of cherry tart washed down with another black coffee. It seems strange to eat cake for breakfast, but it was pretty jolly good. I struggled to get my suitcase down the narrow winding staircase to the main entrance where Sarah will pick it up from later in the morning, paid my bill of 10E for the bottles of aqua naturale and the wine. I tried to buy a bottle of olive oil but the young lad said they did not sell it as they only make enough for their own use and for the restaurant. That's a shame because it was very nice oil. Oh well, my suitcase is probably heavy enough already, and I have to remember that I will be lugging it around for the next few days as I make my way to Montepulciano.
So I set out on my way, already it was warm and projected to be about 30 degrees today My arms are getting quite suntanned so I put on a smaller top today so that the last bit can get tanned as well so I don't come home striped like a zebra, and I will try and make do without my sunnies for some of the ride so my big white rings around my eyes disappears.
I am feeling well rested after my lazy day yesterday so opt for the longer and hillier ride today which will be about 41 or 44km. I wish there was a distance measure on my bike, I should have brought mine from home, I would like to know for real how far I have been. Those of you who know me well, will know that I have no perception whatsoever, time, distance or what something will look like if I try to make it from a pattern. Well it is absolutely no different here – the instructions say ride for 1km or 50m and I have no idea how far that is. All I know is that the ride from Villanganzerla to Trattoria Alla Grotta was 9km (and the only way I know that is because the notes say so) and it hardly took me anytime to ride it at all. I guess it only took me 15 minutes to ride from Greerton to Freedom at the weekends and that was just on 5km, and I guess really it is not quite double the distance so it shouldn't take too long, but it looked a hell of a long way on the map
Anyway I get to the Tratorria and it is closed on Mondays. Fat lot of good that is, but just as well it hasn't been long since breakfast and I am not really in need of food or drink just yet.
So I take the hilly route option from here which is another 14km. This takes me past a the Villa Pigafetta-Camerini which was built in the 1700's but is only open to the public on Wednesdays, Saturdays and Sundays in May June and September, so again no reason to stop. And then I start the climb, most of it I had to push my bike. But the notes promised a stunning view at the top which make it worth the effort and how true that is. I am joined along the way by a local man who tries so hard to make conversation with me, but I cannae understand a word he says, apart from pointing out on my map where I am now, where he lives and where I am headed to. But I actually know where I am headed, so I thank him for his help and off he goes, pushing his bike further up the hill. He was very slim, and had very muscled legs so I didn't feel so bad pushing my bike alongside him (he actually started walking long before I did) even if I was puffing like an old train and he wasn't. He was years younger than me mind.
I have just been joined by a bloke who has walked up here and is sitting a couple seats away having a cigarette, luckily the wind is blowing the smoke in the other direction. I can't believe how many people smoke here and so many young ones. Outside the bars there are always about five or six blokes, all smoking, and the number of young women who smoke is amazing. Everywhere you go you can smell it and waiting at the bus stop in Padova the other day, I was the only one not smoking. Anyway back to this bloke, I heard him coming up the path and turned to see who was coming up behind me, and caught sight of him just as he stopped to take a leak against the statue. I quickly turned away but I was quite shocked that chose to do it against the statue.
Outside many of the homes are these little monuments (shrines) with statues of the Virgin Mary and child and they are beautifully decorated with flowers and other paraphenalia. Often you see them just in the middle of nowhere along the road, and other times there are great big memorials with someone's photo and dates on (I guess those are for people who have died) but I have no idea why they are just out in the middle of nowhere (like that one I rode past about four times on my first day – a memorial so some guy called Mario. On my second time past I said to him “Mario I've been past you before unless you have two shrines, and lo and behold I went past him two more times – once in each direction. But thank goodness he was there otherwise I might not have known I was lost. But so far today I have not gotten myself lost. Mind it is still early and I still have another 25km to travel today. I am really surprising myself
But I digress, at the top of the first hill which I had to walk up I stopped for a photo stop, I even took a photo of myself just to prove that I made it up there. I stopped there at a bar for a cappuccino and a delicious apricot shortcake, and bought a packet of toasted tomato and basil flavoured bruschetti and another apricot shortcake for my picnic at the monastery. I am finding that I am not really all that hungry at lunch time so a small snack is plenty. Unfortunately I haven't been past any fruit shops this morning otherwise I would have bought some fruit.
Like I have said a number of times in this blog, the time seems to go quite slowly here. I have had my picnic and drunk a heap of water, typed all this up and it is still only 12.41, still another 2 hours until the church is open to viewing. I wonder why they open it at such a late time in the day. About now I could do with a gelato, but there is not one to be had around here, I will have to wait till much later. I am becoming very partial to gelato – I can see me becoming a more regular visitor at Bella Mia in Devonport Road. I will be able to justify it if I cycle there and back home again, won't I????!!

After my cappuccino it was back on the bike again and up another (the book described it as a gentle incline) hill of 1.5km. I was very pleased that it was reasonably gentle and I managed to cycle all the way to the top of this, albeit puffing madly when I got there. So much harder than any workout I have done at Configure Express (but thank goodness I had been going to the gym and was at least a little prepared for this cycling lark – apparently the majority of Headwater tourists have not done any training and lots haven't been on a bike in years when they come out here. I have no idea how they get on., maybe they get rescued by the Rep. I note comments in the book thanking the reps for their immediate response when called on – I have only seen Sarah that once to take me up that huge hill at Teolo, and apart from that I have been completely on my own, so I am feeling pretty pleased with myself.)

So now I need to decide whether I will sit here quietly and wait for the church to open, or whether I will push on. I finished my book last night (I bought a big thick novel at Heathrow to read on the plane and am now wishing I had bought myself another when I was looking through a bookstore in Padova the other day. They had a very small selection of English books but some interesting titles.


It is now the Tuesday morning. The cockerells are crowing outside, the sun has come up over the hill and the place is slowly starting to come alive and it is 7am. I have been awake for an hour and sent some texts to those people who aren't on the internet so won't be reading the blog, and it was nice to get replies from them all. Aren't mobile phones wonderful. Amazing to think John and I did all that travelling in the 70's without all this modern gadgetry and we did just fine.
Anyway, back to yesterday. In true Italian style, in Italian time the church I had waited for opened the doors – I never saw a soul, just quietly the little wooden door opened and by the time I got over to it, and stowed my bike safely, there was no-one to be seen. I went in, and it was certainly worth the wait. Beautiful paintings, stained glass window, amazing statues and the three beautiful alcoves down each side. The ceiling was made of small carved (looked like) wooden tiles. The work that has gone into this wee church is absolutely amazing. It was so quiet, so cool, so peaceful in there.

And then it was back on the bike and down the hill. The notes said that I would ride down a steep cypress lined hill past 11 of the 14 stations of the cross. I'm sorry but I had no idea what that meant, but all the way down there were these intricately carved statues and after passing a number of them realised that these must be the stations of the cross.
After descending the hill, with both hands firmly gripping the brakes, it was out onto the road and into the full force of the afternoon sun. Quite a long way to ride now to the hotel, and a very varied ride – along a canal track (where the notes said you might see herons feeding on the fishes – but I didn't see any today – it must have been too hot for them and they were taking cover somewhere in the shade) , along an embankment, over a gravel track, through a quarry, past vineyards, and through villages – sometimes in the full sun, at other times down nice shady lanes. (that is tree shaded lanes – not the other type).

I got a text from Chris (the English lady who set out on the walking track the day I started) to say that they were already at Il Feudo resting and enjoying a beer and where was I? Well I was stilll 18 km away at that stage, but text back to say I was really enjoying the last stage and would see them soon.
What a welcome sight the sign saying 100m to the turning for Il Feudo. At this stage I was cycling along a fairly busy main road. Cars coming up behind me keeping tooting – I presume just to let me know they were coming, I wouldn't imagine it was because I looked cute cycling along there in my lycra cycling pants. I was extremely hot and bothered by this stage and looking forward to joining Chris and Alan for a beer.
I arrived, got up to my room had a shower, washed my hair, downed ½ litre of water and then went downstairs to find Sarah, the Headwater rep sitting there with the other two. She had come to hear all about our trips, make notes on anything we noticed along the way that needs changing in the notes and make arrangements to take us into Vicenza in time to catch trains to where-ever we are heading next. The other two are going to Venice for the rest of the week, I was yet to make up my mind what I was to do.
I was pleased to hear that the road I was supposed to take on the day I got lost was closed and there was a big barrier there and there was no signpost pointing in that direction, so it wasn't me just being dumb and blonde or grey. Sarah apologised most profusely and said that changes like that happen all the time, and nobody thinks to tell her about them. Oh well, I didn't come to any harm so all is well.
And so for my final meal on this part of the trip – we had the choice of pasta or vegetable pancakes, Roast beef or roast chicken, and for dessert apple pie or tiramisu.
So my choices were the pancakes, the beef and yep you guessed it the tiramisu. The pancakes were delicious – vegetables in a creamy sauce between layers of pancake, and the roast beef was very very very rare, and extremely thinly sliced and spread out to fill the whole plate, garnished with lemon which we squeezed over it. The vegetables tonight were mushrooms, zuchinni and spinach – all extremely healthy which I thoroughly enjoyed (including the mushrooms which I don't normally eat). The tiramisu was good and all this was washed down with the aqua naturale and a lovely bottle of red wine.
And so the perfect end to this wonderful 8 day trip with Headwater. The hotels were wonderful, the food divine and the scenery just brilliant. I have transferred my photos onto the computer, but as usual the pictures do not really capture the peacefulness, the serenity and smells of the countryside and the cooking as you pass through the villages. What I haven't been able to suss out yet is how to put one or two photos onto the blog. Hopefully when I next have access to wifi I will figure it out. Just slowly here, I am an old lady after all.
And no, the round Taupo cycle race is not top of the priority list as one bright spark suggested when I text to say I had completed this circuit. I will go again for a quiet peaceful cycle track, away from the mad crowds, the hustle and the bustle of the city and where the pace of life is slow and relaxed.
I now look forward to the next step in this journey, and overnight have decided to take the train from Vicenza to Padova, where I will then transfer to a train to Florence. Florence wasn't on my original itinerary but everyone tells me how wonderful it is, so I have decided to go there and find out for myself. I haven't been there before, but I have been to Rome and Naples so can bypass them if I run out of time.
So now, it's off to breakfast. Catch you all tomorrow

Sunday night in Italy

Sunday, a day of rest. Today is day 7 of my 8 day Villas Tour and rest is exactly what I have done. There were lots of choices of 30-40km cycle rides around the area, most of them up hill for a good part of the day. There was also the options of train trips to Vicenza or back to Venice, but I opted instead to have a lazy day, catching up on washing, reading, better planning my day tomorrow and the free bits after I get dropped at the train station in Vicenza at 9.45 Tuesday morning. I then have until the end of the week to make my own way to where I start the next tour in Montepulciano.
This place, Agristurismo L'Albara has been raved about by previous Headwater guests, who talk about the wonderful hospitality of this great family. Well, maybe it's me, or maybe it's because I'm on my own I am not really sure, but I have found the place particularly unfriendly. Like I said yesterday I waited in the foyer for quite some time when I arrived before I was shown to my room. My suitcase was just sitting where the Headwater rep had left it in the foyer, where in the other two hotels it was nicely waiting for me up in my room. I was shown to my room and the lady went out and shut the door behind her without a word and I was not shown around the place or shown to the dining room or anything.
And then this morning I went down for breakfast, there wasn't a soul about. I helped myself to the traditional bread and jam and coffee and went outside to eat it, there were no places set at the tables in the dining room so it didn't look as if you were expected to eat in there. There were no other guests around, so not sure where all the people from last night were. Most of them were still in the dining room when I left last night and that was after 11pm. There certainly had been no noise at all this morning so I don't know when they all had breakfast. I was a bit later coming down, thinking that I would meet up with somebody, but no staff, no guests – just a deserted dining room with the food on the table. It reminded me a bit of the place that Rodney and I stayed at in Kaikoura – although this one is much cleaner, tidier and upmarket – but that place was deserted as well and we just helped ourselves to breakfast and let ourselves out and went on our way!! Quite strange really.
So I sat doing my blog outside after I finished my breakfast and then talked to Rowan and Roxy on Skype which was great.
I then went for a bit of a walk to the village, and as it was very hot, opted to come back and blob out. Again I saw absolutely no-one and I came back up to my room which is lovely and cool and just relaxed for the day. Because I can connect to the internet here, I have researched some hotels and stuff in Vicenza and Milano and so am feeling a bit better about heading off on my own next week. I have also checked out the Headwater website and blog to see what other travellers have to say, and to see if there is anyone out there doing it solo, but it would appear not.
The thing that worries me is that I could have had a heart attack from all that food last night and been lying here in my room and the staff would have absolutely no idea where I am. Likewise, no-one knew when I went for my walk where I was going so if I had been hit by a bus (highly unlikely on the village road , but you know what I mean) then nobody would know about it until maybe dinner time tonight when I don't go downstairs for dinner, or perhaps even when Sarah comes to collect my bag tomorrow morning.
I think the problem is that I am 'solo' so they don't quite know what to make of me. Although at Belvedere and the hotel at Teolo, this was not a problem and every time I moved from my room there was somebody waiting at the bottom of the stairs to see what I wanted and to make sure that I had all the information that I needed and they made sure that I knew how to catch a bus, had a map to get to where I wanted to go to and knew how much it was going to cost etc etc. At the hotel Belvedere, Alice had very good English skills, but on the second day she was away all day and her mother, with the help of her dictionary and my phrasebook, we managed to communicate and at Teolo, Luca had minimal English skills but we managed fine And I wasn't the only guest they had. It is only here in a family environment that I am having problems.
But as I say, maybe it is me, maybe I should have gone looking, made myself more at home and been more outgoing, but I am so not wanting to do the wrong thing and so hold back a bit and wait for some guidance. And there were no notes in the handbook about how to do things here, just rave comments about how wonderfully hospitable the family is.
However, my body was needing the rest, of that I am certain. Tomorrow is 41km (if I take the longer route) and I will have to time it a bit better so that I get to places when they are open. Because I have had the time today I have really studied the itinerary. There is a shady picnic area at a monastery in San Pancrazio which is at about the half way mark, but it isn't open until 3pm. The restaurant that is recommended in the notes for lunch is closed on a Monday (and of course tomorrow is Monday) as is the one at the next village, so it will be a long long picnic at the monastery by the look of it. And finally there is a vineyard with tasting on the route. There have been several others I could have visited on my rest days, but drinking alone isn't much fun and then there is always the problem of riding back to base. Also because of my limited luggage space it is a bit too soon to start buying bottles of wine to bring home. I will do that when I get to Montepulciano. Not to say that the wine hasn't been worth bringing home, it certainly has.
So I guess not really much else to report on today until I tell you all about tonights dinner. I had an email from Colleen in Australia and she tells me she's putting on weight just reading about the food, and Kath in Wellington tells me her mouth is watering. I sure hope I can reproduce some of these fabulous dishes when I get home. In particular the pasta – it has been so simple but so tasty and nothing like we get in Italian restaurants at home. I was talking to Rodney the other morning and telling him that we thought the food at Volare was great - well the real stuff has been just heaps and heaps better. I guess it is because it is all so fresh – the olive oil is produced on each of the estates that I have stayed on, and the wine is produced right here in the region as well. And the vegetables and fruit are all freshly picked and apparently the menus change in accordance with what is freshly available at the time. And of course I have come at the best time, cherries, peaches apricots, strawberries, peas, all just being picked right now.
At Teolo Luca told me that the grapes for the wines are provided by a number of growers and the wine is then produced by the region. I wonder if it is the same for other produce because there seem to be lots of small plots of (it looks to me like corn plants ) maize?? which is used for making the polenta so I wonder if each family make their own flour or does it all go to a co-op type place for producing?? I must try to remember to ask Sarah when she picks us up on Tuesday morning.
There are fields of peas, and a bit further down the road there is a field of potatoes, and then maybe a vineyard, then a field of maize. But in the villages, each house has a fairly substantial vegetable garden with tomatoes, peas, a green plant (maybe some sort of spinach) zuchinni, lettuce and beans. They are all so tidy, not a weed in sight, but I haven't seen anyone tending the plants at all. I have seen farmers watering their crops – tractors backed up to the canals or creeks that run alongside the road with pumps pumping the water out, feeding crop sprayers around the fields. I have been caught on three occasions with having to cycle through this water as it was being sprayed. ( it looks pretty yuck in the canals or streams as most of them are stagnant and it was only yesterday that I passed a creek that was actually clean and clear and flowing)
It is now 10.02pm and I have just come upstairs from dinner. I am the only guest tonight and the restaurant is closed to casual diners on a Sunday. So I was sat at one end of the table on my own, while some of the family sat at the other end and the rest at the table behind me. I felt a bit like a leper, however the food was good and the wine was good so I just enjoyed it and enjoyed listening to the jovial chatter between the family members.
Tonights meal was: Pasta – fettucine with peas which I sprinkled with fresh parmesan; then there was roast guinea fowl, roast potatoes and the traditional mixed salad. Now that confirms that last nights dinner was not guinea fowl like the others were eating but was in fact some meat cooked with cherries and olives. The young lad had told me goat meat but he wasn't sure about the right words to use and I thought he was mixed up because there was a written menu on the table and it said guinea fowl, but my dish was certainly much different to tonights so perhaps it was goat. The guinea fowl was beautiful, quite a dark meat but very very tender and moist whereas last nights meat was quite tough.
I was offered the choice of fruit, cheese or cake for dessert so I went for the cheese and was brought three cheeses. The first one was hard and dry with quite a strong taste, the second one softer and lighter and full of holes and tasty, while the third one was very soft and very mild and a very light colour and was a mixture of cows and sheeps milk. Now that reminds me, I have not seen any animals in my travels, well farm animals that is. I have seen donkeys and dogs and cats but certainly no cows, goats or sheep. Wonder where they keep them.
Tonight I tried my first espresso and was joined for coffee by one of the older men, who has travelled to America and China. He sells welding equipment – electrodes, and thankfully having had two welding husbands I knew what he was talking about. He was very impressed that I knew.
He comes from Abruzzo (on the coast but quite near L'aquila where the earthquake was) but is happier here in the Veneto region because of the relaxed lifestyle and the food. Most people in this area grow there own vegetables (which I had already established) which he likes very much. The olive oil on the table is produced here at the farm and I asked if I was able to buy some to take home. It is so nice, the nicest I have tried so far on my travels. we talked about the differences between the regions in Italy and he was interested to here about my forthcoming trip in Tuscany. The wine here in this region is Cabernet, Merlot and Savignon and he said I will find much different wines in Tuscany. We also talked about the economic situation in Europe and the problem with illegal immigrants, in particular the black people. I told him the story of my experience with the black man in Este and he laughed and confirmed that he would have thought I was a local and was wanting to find a wife so he could stay. He talked about his family (two sons and 5 nephews – but I think, or at least am pretty sure that he meant grandchildren) and he asked lots of questions about New Zealand and the kiwifruit industry and we talked about the Italians in Turangi. Oh and just one more piece of useful/useless information – the population of Italy is 60 million and the altitude of the mountains in Abruzzo is 3000 metres.
All that conversation and I don't even know what his name is. But Roxy – I can't see a Ferari in the drive and he didn't sound rich (wouldn't be if he sells welding gear) and it wouldn't appear that he owns a villa, so sorry kid, close but not close enough. But all-in-all a pleasant end to my stay here. I wonder where they were all hiding today when I ventured out.
So now it is time to pack up my panniers ready for my trip tomorrow. The last day of this part of the holiday. The actual hours appears to go slowly, but at the same time the days are going by very fast.
Buona notte.

13th June

Oh heck, the day starts with a steep 1.5km uphill climb on the bike. The view is fantastic, but the body didn't like it very much. Must admit I had to push the bike up, while all these lycra clad racing bike riders whizzed by. How the hell do they do it. They made it look so easy. Should have gone to the gym more often. Should have tried cycling over the Kaimais after all. Didn't think I was going to be doing anything that hilly.
Before I left Teolo I asked Luca what the altitude was, he said 197. I presume that means metres, but it seemed much higher than that to me. I realised afterwards that I could have checked on my phone GPS because that tells the altitude as well as the latitude and longitude. Where I am now is: Lat. 45Degrees 25'43.49”N. Longit 11degrees 37'22.36”E. Altitude 67m.
But the after the climb to the top of the hill behind the hotel it was mostly a downhill ride for the rest of the day, that is until I lost my way yet again.

I was doing fine until there was a change in the route because there is a new motorway going through and there is a detour. Well I think the notes did not match the detour (my excuse and I am sticking to it again) and instead of coming into Villaganzerla on the road the notes said, I came in at the other end. It is only a tiny place, and as it was lunch time I decided today to stop for lunch. On the other cycle days I have only had a coffee, but I thought some food was justified today seeing as I had had the long uphill climb to begin. Well I thought it was a good enough excuse. You see all you get for breakfast here is bread and coffee.
So I stopped at this little bar on the corner. As usual there were about six men sitting outside drinking coffee. It seems that the men have a great life here in Italy. They are either drinking outside the bars or riding their bicycles. Oh I have seen some working in the fields, but those have been few and far between. The women sit outside their doors at home, or are sweeping the paths. They are fanatical about sweeping, they sweep the paths outside their homes, they sweep their yards, and apparently immediately after the wind has stopped blowing they will sweep it all again.
So I park my bicicletta, take off my helmet and gloves, put on my long shirt and head indoors where I order a salami roll and and orange juice. I have those two things off pat now and can order in Italian quite well and the bar people give me exactly what I want, and even without pointing at the item. I ask if it is okay to sit – you see it is customary to just stand at the bar and you pay more if you sit down. But I sit, as I feel conspicuous standing at the bar. At the other end of the bar is a gelato bar, so I order and finally get my fragelo gelato. It is good, full of chunks of strawberries.
A man and a young boy come in, spot me sitting at the table and come over and the lad asks me if I am from over the sea. I reply si' and he asks where am I headed. I show him Agriturismo L'Albara on the map and he tells me that he and his father are from there. They shake my hand enthusiastically and tell me that they will see me later (piu tardi). They seemed very nice and very friendly.
After sitting for what seems ages and ages, and in fact was only 20 minutes (the time seems to go quite slowly here) I decide I should use the toilette before getting back on my bicycle. So in I go and “Oh my God' it's one of those hole in the floor jobbies. I am not sure if I am going to be able to manoeuvre my extremely tight bike pants down far enough, and squat my body down low enough to aim in that tiny wee (excuse the pun there) hole. There is nothing to hold on to and I am terrified I will fall over. Luckily the hole is only little so at least I won't fall down it. However, someone or something was looking after me, as I managed okay. But then I thought I was locked in. Always the keys have to be turned 2 ½ times and you hear the lock click at least twice before the door opens and this time it seems that I had to turn first one way and then the other. I tried a couple of times and I was still stuck in this little room, and I am thinking “I hope the girl behind the bar saw where I went and I don't get stuck in here forever.” So I calm myself down and try again, still no luck. I stop and count to ten in Italian (it takes longer as I have to think about some of the numbers) and then try again, and this time the door opens. Phew!!!!!!.
So I go to the bar, pay for my lunch and head on my way again. Now this is where I get temporarily misplaced. None of the instructions in the notes match where I am in Villaganzerla. Because I have got her by lunch time (and I have ridden 33km by the way and I only set out at 9.30am) I decide to do the 13km extra loop to Costozza. I head off in the correct direction – the girl behind the bar pointed me in the right direction and according to the big map I also follow, I am heading in the right direction, but do you think I can find Costozza. No way, I start heading uphill, and I know that's not right but I keep on going, and see a sign saying Nanto. I check the map, that's further up the hill, so I turn round and decide I will go and check in at L'Albara and get some directions from them. There are two beautiful villas and gardens to visit at Costozza so I really want to get there. At Ponte di Castegnero I stop at a fruit market and buy some fruit – peaches, cherries and strawberries, and the very generous lady throws in four apricot for free for me to try.
L'Albara is not very far away and I get there in just a few minutes, and I ride up the drive and find the family all sitting outside enjoying their lunch. Everyone just looks at me, no-one moves. No-one comes to welcome me and I am left standing in the driveway wondering what the hell I am supposed to do now. I make myself busy reading my map, and then decide I should just make a hasty retreat and come back later. Quite strange really because this place is supposed to be the friendliest, but I certainly didn't get that impression.
So I try again to find Costozza. I am trying to work backwards from my notes, but am heading up a fairly steep hill again, so I find a nice shady spot outside a church half way up the hill and decide to rest here, have a drink of water and eat some of my fruit. There is a building beside the church and shortly after I arrive parents start dropping children off for music lessons and I sit there and enjoy an hour of children singing, laughing and playing music. It is so pleasant, they are laughing throughout and sound so happy. The view is amazing and it is so peaceful. Other people stop here and leave their cars and go off walking up the hill and a couple of young lads arrive and don back packs and walking sticks and head off uphill. It must be quite a walk up there, so I decide that I will try and find Costozza tomorrow. I wander round the church and take photos of the vista and then start to slowly cycle back to L'Albara.
I cannot find the Agriturismo in my dictionary but I am assuming it is a “farmstay” This time on my arrival there is nobody around. My suitcase is standing there in front of the desk. There is a sign on the desk saying for help ring 0044 5798. I don't know whether that means I have to ring from my cell phone, or I use the gadget on the counter. So I try the gadget . Woops not supposed to use that – it turned on the television. Oh crikey you know what I'm like with these technical things. How do I turn it off? I thought that might have brought someone running, but no, still no sign of anybody. The Headwater books are on the side table so I sign on the chair and read these for about ten minutes before a lady arrives and says “camera si?'” that means bedroom? I say si, she picks up a key, takes me up the stairs to my room, shows me the towels, and walks out and closes my door with not another word. Wow!! now what. No showing me around, no showing me where this famous swimming pool is, no details about dinner. Oh well, I had a shower, and then a nana nap and read my book for a while. I was thrilled to discover that I could connect to the iternet via wi-fi so was able to catch up on my emails and add to my blog.
Later, around 7pm I went downstairs to find out what was going on, and read the Headwater book to decide what to do today. The young lad came and asked me if I wanted a drink, I ordered white wine, he handed me a glass and a jug of wine and left me standing there. So I went outside to the tables. A large group of Italians playing on the lawn, make me feel very conspicuous again. However, I write notes in my notebook and enjoy watching them play and have fun. Around 8.15 there is no indication of what to do for dinner, so I wander in to the dining room, nobody about. I am feeling very much like a fish out of water here, so I go up to my room, wondering what to do next. At about 8.25 someone knocks on my door and I am told dinner is ready if I want some. So I follow her downstairs where I am sat a table all alone. The dining room is full, and again I feel very conspicuous. However, I am here to enjoy this experience and very quickly this gorgeous young man comes and fills the first glass with a sparkly white wine. There are four glasses on the table, three wine and one for water. The appetiser is already on the table so I look around to see what others are doing. There is only one knife and one fork on the table, so no confusion over the cutlery like in England.
The antipasto is: a cherry tomato cut in half and filled with mozzerello, a slice of melon, a slice of proscuitto and a slice of salami, and a very very very crunchy bread (crostini I think it is). This is al washed down with the bubbles and the traditional aqua naturale, which comes in bottles. The lady comes to clear the table and places my knife and fork back on the table. Aha, I see why there is only one setting. You keep using the same ones.
Very soon after, the young man fills the next glass with white wine, and the next course arrives. It is risotto with duck. It is delicious. I sprinkle that with parmesan cheese, watching closely what the locals do so as I get it all right. When I finish, I place my fork back on the table and the lady nods her head when she comes to take my plate away.
Next course, vegetable pancakes. This a stack, creamy white sauce with vegetables between layers of pancakes and topped with cheese. Again very delicious, and thankfully only a small portion. I could have had more white wine here, but decline, as it would appear that there is more to come with the main course.
Ah yes, I'm right. This time the next glass is filled with red wine, and the salad is brought to the table. Aha, I think to myself, I know what to do here. But no, here it is different. In the last two places the salad was part of the main meal, but here, it is a course on its own, and the locals are sprinkling with salt, mixing it and eating it alone. This is not a mixed salad like in the past but just lettuce. Some of them are adding oil and balsamic, some not, so I choose to add it. Plain lettuce with salt doesn't do much for me.
Then out comes the main course – roast guinea fowl, roast potato and peas. The guinea fowl is a bit tough (very much like the one Rowan had in England). I don't get a leg like everyone else gets, I get pieces of meat, which suits me just fine. This goes down well with the red wine. By now I have had five glasses of wine – the two before dinner and now three with my meal. Luckily they are only small glasses and I only have to make it up the stairs to my bed.
Again the lad comes around and the first glass is filled again, this time with muscato (a very sweet wine) to go with the dessert which is a platter of cherry tart, two marinated cherries, a biscotti and a meringue.
The meal has been fabulous and thankfully each course is of a reasonable size, so although feeling full, I am not uncomfortable.
I sit watching to see what happens next, by now it is well after 11pm and I am feeling quite sleepy – a combination of the wine and the days activity and the heat. Another couple get up and leave so it appears it is okay to leave the table and go to my room. The menu says there is still coffee and grappa to go, and the comments in the Headwater book warn about the grappa, and because I know how strong it is (having drunk it on numerous occasions at El Burcio in Turangi) I decide I will gracefully leave the table and retreat to my room.
My bed is inviting and it is no time before I fall asleep. The alarm on my phone sounds at 7.30. There is no sounds from outside and I drop off back to sleep, waking again at 8.45. I must have really needed that sleep. It is still very quiet outside, and because there are shutters on the windows and I haven't figured out how to open the window to open the shutters it is very dark in the room.
I head down for breakfast – I don't really need food, but I do need coffee and I need to decide on how to fill in my rest day.
So I will leave you here while I enjoy my breakfast of ciabatta spread with cherry jam, and another slice with peach jam, a pottle of plain yoghurt and a couple of cups of coffee.
Ciao for now.

11th / 12th June

Ciao from what feels like the top of the world. I'm at a place called Teolo in the heart of the national park of the Euganean hills. Each day just gets better and better, and this place is just awesome. It is huge, I'm on the second floor and I can see for miles. It is very formal here, definitely a “dress for dinner” type of place, and the food – well I thought it has been good up till now, but this was even better.
Just as well I cycled the long route today – I had a choice of 26km or 38km and I chose the 38km. Hopefully that will justify at least some of the food I've just consumed. There was of course the traditional basket of bread while waiting for my meal to arrive. I had just one of the little crunchy bread with il bicchiere vino bianco. (glass of white wine – and surprise surprise – that is what I got when I ordered it – am I getting good or what?)
For an appetiser I had proscuitto and melon. That was delicious and not too filling. Then came the pasta dish with a very rich, very spicy but incredibly delicious tomato sauce. The main course was steak (medium rare) with verdura alla griglia (grilled vegetables – I think it was aubergine, zuchine and capsicum). And as if that wasn't enough, I finished off with panna cotta with a strawberry topping and a caffe lunga (long black coffee) Oh and I changed to a vino rosso to have with my steak.

What a fabulous meal, in the most luxurious surroundings – candles, the works and waited on hand and foot. I feel quite like the Queen of Sheba. Was chatting to a couple at the next table who come from Frankfurt (she's Spanish, he's German) and they arrived this evening to stay for 6 days and they have been here before, that's an indication of how good it is.
I wonder how much these places cost per night. I really wasn't expecting anything as luxurious as this on a cycling holiday. Wow' it's 10pm and I have church bells right outside my window chiming. I wonder if they chime all night. They are quite loud. Very different sounding to the church in Galzignano.
But back to this morning – I was pretty much packed up and ready to go last night, my panniers packed, my washing all done, and all set and mentally prepared for the next 38 km. A good breakfast – cornflakes with orange juice, a warm hard boiled egg on a slice of ciabatta bread, and one of the flaky almond biscuits. I was lucky, it was very obvious that my bowl of eggs were boiled – they were still warm. Allan had me in fits of laughter over breakfast on that very first morning at Cortela telling me about his breakfast the morning before in Vicenza. He had expected the eggs on the counter to have been boiled, at least softly if not hard, and chose one, went to chop the top of the shell off, to have it spill out all over the place, it was in fact a raw egg. What a sight he must have looked, not good for the image, especially when you are trying to blend in like a local. I will be very careful not to make that mistake. As I said, I was lucky mine was still very warm, so I knew mine was cooked.
About 8.30am I climbed on my bike and set off on my next adventure. I was feeling much more confident this morning, I studied the map and I was very careful to read, read and re-read every instruction at every intersection, fork in the road, and canal crossing Made it to Bataglia Terme with no hassles, not even any 'U' turns and was feeling very pleased with myself. Decided to get off my bike and lock it up near the treno stazione and go for a walk through the town. Again another town full of shops with the most beautiful clothes and shoes, for both men and women. What a shame I don't know everyone's sizes, and I don't have an empty suitcase ( or unlimited euro for that matter). The cost of things is strange some clothes very cheap – around E29 and others (obviously a label of some sort costing E175 and I can't see a lot of difference but then I can't justify the cost of an Annah S skirt at $340 at home and can't see what makes it so expensive )
Near where I parked my bike was a fruit shop with the most amazing supply of fresh summer fruits – strawberries, melon, peaches, appricot, nectarine and NZ kiwifruit. I bought two peaches and 2 apricots. I bit into the apricot and the juice poured out down my arm and all over my lap. I have never ever eaten a juicy apricot – it tasted like the very best of the dried aprictos we can get, but juicy. It was so delicious. And of course I had peaches for dessert at Albergo Belvedere so I knew they were going to be lovely. The kiwifruit costa E2.84 per kilo and the fruiterer told me that they were much more tasty than the local grown kiwi. He doesn't sell local grown, only NZ.

So time to get back on my bike and on my way – still a long way to go today, but no – mishap number two. I had half heartedly locked my bike with the bike chain – Sarah, the Headwater Rep, had said it usually wasn't necessary but best to make it look as if it was locked, so that's what I did. But NO NO NO NO oh Buggar – the sodding thing is jammed. I tried to unlock it, I tried the combination in every position around the dial, but to no avail. I went back to the fruit shop and picked on a handsome man and played the damsel in distress with a man who could speak absolutely no English at all. He tried, shook his head, waved his arms about and then walked off and left me standing there. A scruffy man in overalls who obviously worked at the railway station came over to assist. He couldn't speak English either, but jumped the barrier, had a try to unlock it using the combination numbers, then motioned a chopping action, I nodded my head and said “Si grazie” and he disappeared, jabbering away to another young male work colleague. I thought what the hell did all that mean, and was standing there wondering what the heck to do next when the older man appeared back carrying a machete. He lobbed the bike chain in half, nodded his head and disappeared again.
So that was disaster number two dealt with – no panic call to Sarah. I am starting to feel okay. The people are very lovely and even if they can't speak English we are managing to communicate with each other and I have, so far, gotten exactly what I asked for.
Right now, back on this bike and on to Abano Terme. This town is a total contrast to the other places I've cycled through. It is very modern and Sarah told me later that it is basically a tourist town for wealthy Germans who go there for the spa treatments and pampering. I am surprised at the number of German tourists that there are in Italy, but discovered later on over dinner that it is only a 10 drive from Germany to here, so it makes it an ideal holiday spot.
Oh to have all this scenery, history and culture (not to mention the food and the wine) on your back door step. What a pity it is a 27 hour plane trip to get here.
The cycle ride today is quite varied – some through busy town, some through quite little villages, some along tracks where I go for ages and see absolutely no-one. Some tracks, some gravel, some sealed roads, such a variety. But it
I make it to La Croce and the thought of the last 3km , described on the map as an appreciable climb, is a bit much for me. Earlier in the day I was feeling good and was hopeful of cycling the whole way, but there is the option to ring the rep and ask her to take you the last 3km in the van, and I take this option. It is incredibly hot, and I have done 38km so I don't feel as if I am cheating too much, and besides, it will be great to catch up with Sarah again and have a real conversation in English.
I guess for me that is probably the most difficult thing – I am used to spending long hours alone, I am comfortable in my own company, but I do like to talk to people so having to go all day with only the tiniest splatterings of understandable conversation is quite hard. So sorry guys, you are getting it all written down. You know – women have 27000 words to use every day, and I am only using about 250 at the moment, so that is a lot of writing.
I rang Sarah from La Croce and she told me to cycle on to Villa Teolo and to wait for her at the Bar on the crossroads. While waiting for her I had a fresh orange juice (il succa l'arancia) made from three fresh oranges ( well at least that what I saw him take out the back). Within ½ an hour Sarah arrived and ten minutes later I was here, at the top of the world in Teola.
It is a tiny wee village, a bank, butcher, fruitshop, tobacconist (everybody seems to smoke here – but the tobaconnist also sells lotto tickets, bus tickets', drinks, snacks and other nick nacks) and has a church (ringing the bells all night) , two restorante' a bar and gelateria ( ice cream shop) and a village square. The village is on a bit of a triangle and the roads are very very narrow.
I am now writing this up on 12th June and it is about 6.20pm and the road through the village is about three stories below me, and I am sitting outside the front door of the hotel in the fresh air. It is lovely and balmy, there is a very light warm breeze blowing, and apart from the few cars passing through the village and the locals gathering in the village, it is extremely peaceful.

Today has been my rest day – that is I get to stay in this beautiful hotel another night and I got to choose what I wanted to do today.
The downside of being on a bike is that you are reliant on either biking everywhere or relying on public transport on the rest days, and today the thought of riding down the hill and having to make it back up again did not thrill me in the slightest I can tell you. The Kaimai's are nothing compared to this. I will check later what the altitude is. So it was either stay put for the day (tempting) go walking further up the hills (not at all tempting) or go by bus to wherever I wanted to go. It is only about an hour back to Venice, or I could have gone to Vicenza or even to Monselice (the place I missed when I got lost) or down the hill to a town called Padova. So that's what I chose. Padova by bus, with the option of stopping off a Praglia at the Abbey on the way home.

I managed to get off the bus at the right place, right in the middle of Padova and had the most wonderful time wandering around the place – town, city, not sure which, it's quite big, very old and has trams in the main street. Mixture of old and new shops and I spent some time, and some euros in a department store. Checked out the homewares department. What fabulous stuff, wish I could have bought a suitcase full. But, just like home, most of the stuff was in fact made in either China or Thailand. Doesn't anyone make their own stuff any more?
I went past a fabric shop and they had the most beautiful mauve fabric in the window, and I was tempted to phone Roxy and see how many metres I needed for her to make me a dress out of it. I tried to converse with the man in the shop but he could not speak any English and it was hard to make myself understood, and it looked like it was only about ½ wide and the price was E67 ( I presume per metre) so I figured this was going to be a rather expensive piece of fabric. I thought I would have some lunch and think about it and perhaps get it on the way back to the bus stop. As it happened I did not go past that shop again. And it is only now that I am writing about it that I am kicking myself for not getting it when I saw it. How many times have I done that in the past, and I promised myself that this trip I would not do it to myself. I am a slow learner aren't I.
I finally got to eat pizza. I went into a pizzeria for my lunch and ordered a slice of pizza and bibit (drink). I have no idea what the topping on the pizza was - it looked and tasted like the left over fries from last night as well as chopped up meat balls. But whatever it was, it was delicious. Then further down the piazza I sat under the shade of the trees with the locals enjoying a pesca gelato (peach ice cream) The ice cream here is so delicious. I need to find out if they all make their own ice cream, everyone seems to have different flavours.
Now lets get on with the rest of my day. So far I have only been shopping. Conrad would be shocked with me and growl and say I was like all the other tourists he's been on holiday with, just going shopping– but the difference is the shops are just so different, the clothes are just so glamorous, and the shoes and the handbags and the jewellery, well there is just nothing anywhere like it in New Zealand, so it isn't just a shopping spree it is a culture tour. Well that's my story and I'm sticking to it.
And you see, here in Italy there is a slight hiccup – yep most things close in the afternoon. So the museum, the art gallery etc were all closed after lunch.
But the Abbey, now it opens in the afternoon and the first tour is at 3.30pm. But, and there always has to be a but, I needed to catch the bus from Padova back to Teolo (about 1 hour 10 mins) and I could stop at Praglia – walk up the hill about 500m to the abbey and wait for 45 minutes for the tour, do the tour and then be too late to catch the last bus back to Teolo which left Padova at 3.57pm. So I had to miss doing the tour inside and be content with the walk around the outside that I did yesterday as I cycled past here. You see I was here at 1.30pm and I didn't think that I should wait until 3.3pm when I still had about 10 or 12 km left to cycle. It's all a matter of timing, and so far I haven't managed to time things very well. But, I am getting more used to the itinerary set out by Headwater, and by the time I get to do the next tour in Tuscany I should have it sussed. Well I sure hope I have.
But what I am doing, seeing, experiencing is awesome. I don't feel afraid at all, I have not been hassled at all (except for that marriage proposal in Este which I told Sarah about and she said I am the first person to have received one of those and she laughed and laughed).
At each of the hotels there is a folder for Headwater guests which is full of information regarding the area, things to do and see etc, and another book that people write their comments about what they have seen and done and experienced. Looking right back I cannot see another kiwi has commented in any of the books surely I am not the only one who has been on a Headwater tour here. I will certainly be promoting it when I get back to NZ because it is the best of both worlds, organised but independent. A challenge followed up with a luxurious hotel. I can't think of a better way to see an area.
I am actually going to get all sloppy and sentimental here – because I feel at peace – at peace with myself, with the world, and with life in general. I guess being out here on my own I was hoping to find something – not the man you all thought I was looking for, something much more meaningful than that – a reason, a purpose, a real me perhaps. Maybe some answers. Well I haven't found the answers yet, maybe I never will – perhaps I don't even know what the questions were, but I feel good and I know that this was the very right thing for me to do. I wouldn't say that I am having a ball, to do that you have to have lots of other people around, but I am really enjoying myself. The time is going so quickly, I don't want it to end. Woops that's after just one glass of the region's award winning Paoni Cantina Colli Euganei vino bianco. It's good. But I think it has gone straight to my head. And I am still sitting outside the front of the hotel under a window and the staff are all inside having their dinner. It is 7.18pm and we don't eat until 8pm and their dinner smells so good. I am starting to get hungry, it's been a long time since the pizza at lunch time.
Now I will just back-track to my bus ride home. I am feeling so proud of myself (perhaps it is still the wine working it's magic here) but I managed to find my way back to the bus stop, read the time table, buy a ticket and catch the right bus home to Teolo. Now you think – so you should – but remember you have to wait on the opposite side of the road to catch the bus, because the cars drive on the right here. It is most disorientating. All you dancing people will understand how I feel here, when I say the wrong side is the right side, and the right side is the correct side. It takes a bit of getting used to. Going round a round-about on a bicycle is scary, it just feels so odd. Just as well I have practiced dancing on the men's side. And crossing the road – you have to look left, right left. I have been looking the other way for fifty odd years.

Anyway, I got on the right bus, and got off at the right place, and decided in this heat it was time for another gelato. Somebody had written in the Headwater book that the ice cream in the village was the best ever – so in I go. Now this is the first time I haven't got what I asked for. I asked for – un gusto (one flavour) fragola (strawberry) and I got two scoops, coffee and pistachio. Don't know how that happened, and instead of it costing E1 it cost me E2.50. Oh well, it tasted good and I would never have bought the pistachio by choice and it actually was quite nice. But the strawberry looked so good. But as I say that is the first time I haven't got what I ordered. I can even ask for my key by the room number now, and I ordered my pizza at lunch time in Italian and got what I wanted.
Oh yes at lunch time 22 English speaking students (well sort of English speaking) came in to have lunch. I got talking to one of the girls, they were from the states, all chemistry majors doing three months study in Sienna and had come on a bus trip to Venice and surrounding area for the weekend
Well it is nearly time for my dinner, so I had better go upstairs and get dolled up. Wonder what is on the menu for me tonight. Because I am on a package tour, I get a different menu to the other guests. I have discovered today that my room costs E90 here, that is dinner, bed and breakfast. Not a bad deal, even with the conversion rate. Actually I am not bothering to convert anything. For a start it is too difficult and I can't be bothered, and the second reason, I don't want to be worrying about what things cost. I just want to enjoy.
Well, ciao for now.
Catch you tomorrow night.