Photo: Countryside near Italian Coast
Mar 13, 1979 The Italian border was very close. Although the customs guards did not speak much English, I understood they were searching for drugs or perhaps weapons. As I was about to roll up my sleeves to show I was not a drug user, they started to joke with me and also ask for cigarettes. They then waved me through.
At the first roadside service station I stopped to use the restroom. As I was leaving, I glanced back and saw the service station manager rushing to the restroom. He must have thought I was either a drug user/dealer or a terrorist.
I rode 60 hilly miles to Firena Ligura on the coast. The scenery was not the best, all the coastal towns looked the same. I thought Italian drivers were crazy, double parking everywhere, parking the wrong way, not watching what they should be doing and constantly honking their horns.
In Firena Ligura the only other travelers I met were two woman traveling together, a Bostonian and an Israeli. They were headed to Paris from Israel, but were running out of money.
Photo: Countryside near Italian Coast
Mar 14, 1979 Another cloudy day and a rough 45 miles to Genoa. The hostel was in an old chateau overlooking the coast. Very friendly people there and I enjoyed a spaghetti dinner.
Mar 15, 1979 Although the last two days riding conditions were not good, today was much worse. The morning wind was terrific and cold. Soon after I left it started raining and before long I was soaked and shivering.
Although I had to get out of my wet clothing (shoes included), I went through a number of towns without finding any pensions or hotels. Descending down a long steep winding hill into Raporra, coasting in a heavy rain, I found my coaster brakes were not enough to keep me from accelerating. I was losing control. With my yellow 20 lb daypack on my back and numb fingers, I leaned over the handlebars to get to the front brakes. I was relieved to slow the bike down, without flipping over the top in a forward somersault.
In Raporra, only 20 miles from Genoa, I found a hotel much to my relief.
Photo: Battistero, Pisa
Mar 16, 1979 The morning was still cloudy and the hilly coastal road I had grown to hate seemed endless. I decided to take an alternative route into the mountains. The first 10 miles of the ride took me from sea level to an altitude of 2,000 feet. The scenery was much better although the biking was much harder.
I stopped in a mountain village for a snack and brief rest. When I told a couple of local men I was headed for Rome, they laughed.
The mountain road led back to the coast at La Spezia. After that the road was flat and closely followed the beach. A strong wind, partly on my back, created huge waves which splattered me with sea spray as they hit the beach. I missed my planned turnoff to Lucca, but before long I was finishing a 100 mile day and rolling into Pisa. From a distance I could see the Leaning Tower.
I found a pension two blocks from the Leaning Tower. The friendly manager allowed me to leave my bike in the courtyard, but would not let me lock it. You accusa me he said (of being a thief).
Map of South France & Italy
