Day 19 { june 13th 2002 }
“Coooka banana coka! ”
It has happened before: I get completely desoriënted. My reserves are dwindling and we are treated with a display of enthousiasm (the Italian way).
“Where am I?”
The ceiling of my tent is the first thing I look at when my eyes are opened. Disbelief.
I haven’t got the slightest idea where I am...
It happened before some days ago. Quite frightening.
I softly pad my left upper arm. It’s burnt and hurts. A bandage was put around it yesterday so things would not get worse.
I turn my head to the right and look at my yellow cycle glasses. When we arrived at the camping last night, they were gone. It appeared I had left them at the Holiday Inn reception. With the greatest reluctancy, I retrieved them.
Anyway. I carefully move my chin to my chest whilst still lying down and look at my feet.
All my bags and my shoes are positioned on both sides of them. Ahh...now I remember. The camping. The barrage of traffic noises complete the picture.
“Metal gates”
It’ll promise to be another very hot day. The sun is already trying it’s very best at 11 o’clock in the morning. It takes some time before we make our way out of Modena. I think we are all happy to leave that bustling city behind.
They were present in the distance, but today we will meet them face to face; the Apenijnen.
But before we embark on climbing in the smothering heat, we have to follow a cyclepath of interesting origin. It’s an old railroad of which the tracks have been poored over with asphalt. The result; a very smooth surface and green ‘walls’ of bushes and trees alongside which guarantee plenty of shadow. Lovely!
There is one ‘but’. For some reason (to discourage cyclists?!) they placed metal gates (narrowly spaced) in the middle of the road every 500 metres or so in the vicinity of build-up areas. At first they are irritating, but we turn it into a game to ‘take the obstacles’ while on our cycles instead of stopping every time. Even my Condor can perform the trick. It does take good ‘low-speed handling’ but our skills improve along the way.
“...the sweetest distant vieuws”
In the city of Vignola we take a break and have ice-cream on a terrace in the shadow. I must say that my reserves are dwindling already. I want to go on, but there’s no puff left in my bony body. Damn. Must have been dinner last night. Not sufficient. I muster strenght and enjoy the moment. The tranquillity is crudely disturbed by youngsters using all sorts of vehicles and horns. The Italian soccer team triumphed and some youngsters surely know how to express enthousiasm. We all are not to thrilled too climb the hills ahead of us. It’s an estimated 33 degrees by now. Hardly any wind. Rub that tan! Luckily, it turns out to be ok. Some hilarious moments (Cooooca banana coka! (that’s an inside joke, dear readers…)) are conveniently intermingled with the sweetest distant vieuws.
“A hell of a noise!”
We agree to call it a day on a camping in the vicinity of Zocca. An unpleasent surprise… two 15% hills ‘guard’ the entrance.
Once there, we erect our tents on one of the many terraces, only accessible via steep paths.
Later on that evening, Bianca accidentally hits the alarm button while in the shower, mistaking that button for a lightswitch. A hell of a noise! Well, I repeat that drill 15 minutes later. This time, the owner doesn’t bother any more to have a look.
I stumble the way down to my tent. My god, this camping is not for the elder people. There are clumsy stairs everywhere. Well, stairs... Wooden uneven stumbs covered with grass and every step is too narrow.
Oh well. We hit the sack not long after that.
