Hello madam did you order the Sticky Toffee Sleeping bag with the Clam grub on the side? I should blame myself really, apples seem to thrive in hot and humid temperatures and I chose to stay the night at an orchard. The mistifiers must've came on half way through the night because I woke up feeling like double sided sticky tape. Good job I did wake up early as it seemed the farmers were out in force to pick the apples. My farmer must've just decided to sweat me out instead of come knocking on my tent but I was pretty pleased with my time from wake up to ride away of 14 minutes. Still continuing down the river, orchards soon turned to vineyards then back to orchards. Colours changing from green to red apples to big blue grapes and back to apples again. I got a bit carried away with cycling along the river and missed a shortcut which will mean I will have change my route slightly but completing 50 miles before half 11 was the sort of roll I didn't want to stop. I decided to grab some food in Rovereto then head east to Treviso past Vicenza. My first experience of an Italian supermarket was going to be fun, their diet of pizza, pasta, meat and cheese is pretty much all I ask for in a meal. I went a bit crazy on the bread and bought some rolls that looked like driftwood but tasted amazing and I unnecessarily got a loaf aswell so looks like ill be having sandwiches for dinner but it was cheap so all within the budget. When I got back to the bike I noticed a broken spoke on the rear wheel. I had heard a few strange noises on the way down but i did the same as anybody would when they hear a mechanical knocking sound on their vehicle and I turned my music up louder. Unfortunately a broken spoke on the rear wheel is a pain to change as you have to take off the gearset aswell and you need special tools for this. Luckily I've done it before and I had all the tools so I wheeled Nigel to a nearby park, had some lunch and then began to take off all the bags etc to change the spoke. The last time I did this I remembered the man who gave me the new spokes say there were two different sized spokes on my wheel. I even remembered when asking for extra spokes from the bike shop that I needed two different sized spokes and then when I came to replace the spokes guess what, I had all the same sized spokes! Typical again, I am 99% ready to change my spoke, every thing is spread in pieces and I'm now stuck in a park with the wrong sized spoke! It's a good job I don't have a schedule and its a good job I have developed the patience of a Venus fly trap because I realised my misfortune at 1pm and managed to find out that there's a velo shop down the road but in true Italian fashion it doesn't open up again till 4pm. So i sat on the bench and listened to 3 old ladies for 3 hours just sit and natter. The park had a pond and some fountains so it was actually quite a nice place to sit and soak up the sun. I witnessed a pigeon sit down on the grass for about an hour. I don't know if I'm normally too busy to witness such a thing but I've always seen pigeons walking around being busy, pestering you for food etc not this one, he just sat there, not even in a nest or with a mate, like a pigeon version of me without a broken bike by his side. I had a very strange conversation with an old man called George from Bucharest who I thought was offering to go get me a spoke from the shop while I stayed with my stuff. He had to go see his bambino then he was coming back at 4pm. I had no clue what to do. I've just sat in a park for 3 hours and have obtained the knowledge that there is definitely a velo shop just down the road but it doesn't open until 4 or half 3 (I asked another person) there also may or may not be a man called George coming back at 4 to help me out. What do you do in this situation?
I waited till 4.15, I was pretty sure the velo shop would've been open earlier and I may even miss it being open if I waited too long. I asked the three ladies that had been chatting for the last 3 hours if they could watch my stuff. I knew they weren't going to be able to stop any opportunist robbers but I locked the bike up and took my most important bag and left the others by the bench. I couldn't think of much else to do and there was no sign of George. I legged it in the direction of the velo shop, saw a cyclist and asked her quickly to make sure I was on the right route and she sent me in completely the opposite direction as to what George had said but at least it was close. I bought 5 longer spokes off Stefano and legged it back. I was gone for about 4 minutes tops and the three old ladies which had now reduced to 2 (maybe one couldn't handle the pressure of looking after my things) were very impressed with my speed and continued to watch me work on the bike. A young lad with his mates then turned up. It was George's grandson and he said that George would be back asap, i told him not to worry but thanked him anyway and then i think he rang George up to tell him. After that the spoke was sorted in about 10 minutes tops with wheel on etc. Feeling exhausted but proud. I spun the wheel and it rotated like Elvis' legs. Great, either the wheel is completely gone due to the weight it's had to deal with or ill just tinker with the other spokes a little. I tinkered, improved the wheel slightly but it was no way perfect, a little bit more tinkering and "PING" another one goes. You have got to be kidding me? So off came the wheel, tyre let down, tyre off, inner tube off, gearset off, spoke out, new spoke in, gearset back on, inner tube on, tyre on, wheel on, tyre pumped up. The wheel still rotates like a fairground waltzer. It was now coming to 6pm, I have been in this park for over 5 hours which started off just a leisurely lunch. I have been working on a simple spoke change which has led to another simple spoke change for the past two hours, during that time multiple kids have approached me as kids do, but they may as well of been Martians as neither of us had a clue what each other was saying. The park had turned into a fairground of kids, dogs and old people all circled around one main Alien trying his hardest to keep calm and figure out what on earth he's going to do with a. His wonky back wheel and b. with sleeping arrangements as its starting to get dark. I decided to pack everything up and walk Nigel back to the velo shop and pray its still open. It was 6pm and luckily they didn't close till 7, incidentally it opened at half 2 after lunch so I had wasted 2.5 hours sat looking at a pigeon in the park but we won't talk about that. Stefano did a great job, he said the wheel wasn't perfect but that's because it's old. I looked at it and compared to what it was like it looked like a new wheel. I was so mentally drained I asked where I could get Internet and where I could stay the night. I realised i hadn't spoken to the parents in a while and i just couldn't face another risky ride to nothingness not knowing if i was going to find a good place to camp up or not. Stefano was great again and said the hostel around the corner had free wifi. Sorted, I pumped up the rear tyre but still proceeded to walk Nigel around the streets of Rovereto towards the hostel. After any broken spoke I find I have a terrible sense that I may break another spoke which I know I did but I thought if I jump back on him the chances increase somehow. Sounds stupid I know by either he was staying by my side till tomorrow morning at least. After walking around the town i was quite excited to have a shower, get myself sorted again and maybe even splash out on a beer with some guys from the hostel as the bars looked pretty decent and there were a lot people about. I got to the hostel and it was fully booked but they looked for the next cheapest for me. "The next cheapest is 50 euros," "50 euros!!! Sorry I thought I was looking for a hostel in Italy not a hotel in Switzerland! I looked at Nigel, he looked back at me, he knew he had to suck it up aswell. I got back on and with the upmost of delicate handling rolled him out of Rovereto on you guessed it, cobble streets and headed towards Vicenza.
I expected a flattish road to Vicenza as I'm almost out of the Alps now. What did I get? Probably the steepest climb I've had. The Italians don't mess around with gradual inclines expertly dug into the side of the mountain. They stick a road on the edge of the mountain no matter how steep it is and when the edge of the road falls away they slap more cement on the side and hope for the best. Similar to the way we slap wet sand onto the side of a collapsed sandcastle. So the sun is setting fast, it's about 7.15. The road does not look like its going to lead me down into a beautiful valley where there are people waiting to echo me into their houses with a shower and warm towels and on top of that my rear wheel is pinging every couple of seconds. A pinging sound that if it isn't another broken spoke, it will be if I make one false move. The road continues to rise, cars continue to fly past, it continues to get darker and Nigel is crying out for help with every rotation. It's getting a bit much and the Alps are really tying to finish me. Around every corner I'm looking for just a roadside area to stop, not a chance. Maybe a section closer into the cliff face? There were a few very inviting mining holes or rest areas but under such an unstable cliff I would be an idiot to stay there. I look on the outside edge of the cliff, with such steep drops, chances of finding a big enough and flat enough tent area was very acute...
I saw a church on its own, stuck up on the edge of nowhere in the middle of nowhere. If this door opens I'm going in, I don't care if there's anyone in there I must be able to sleep here. The door was locked an as I tried it the bell began to ring so the bell ringer must've put it on auto ring and popped off down the pub or something. I thought well I will camp up around the tiny back area it has that over looks a huge valley dropping hundreds of metres below. Luckily I'm fine with heights and the cold but there was no way I was camping up on the beautifully laid cobble floor surrounding the church. I jumped back on Nigel and I could see there was a slight downhill section and a few houses where I had decided I was going to stay no matter what. I had already wasted too much precious time on the church and car headlights were starting to come on etc. I saw a spot by a wood shed opposite a block of 4 houses, 2 apartments on top of each other. Rung the bell and a man answered the door very confidentially and walked straight out to greet me with his mouth half full. I show him my map and he put his glasses on to inspect. I asked about the possibility of camping over by the woodshed on a bit of grass opposite his house. As I did this the lady above opened the door and he consulted her and gave me the thumbs up. At last! A change of fortune. As I began to set myself up the gentleman's wife came out and spoke to me in Italian, gesticulating whether I wanted food or a beer. She very quickly realised I did not understand a word of Italian but I would love food and a beer and I told her when I had set up my tent I would go knock on her door. Amazing! Just goes to show you don't have to speak the same language to be hospitable and know what someone wants. I knocked on the door armed with my notebook, pen and my phrases. Before I could even get through the door she rubbed her hand down my face like a loving mother (i think she thought the dirt would rub off easily) and then asked if I wanted to the toilet and to clean up. I must've looked an absolute mess, mentally and physically drained and having worked on a very dirty bike for the best part of 3 hours I can not for life of me work out why anybody would've wanted to invite me into their home to feed me. She did though, and i couldn't of dreamt of anything better. Soup to start with a Peroni then bread, prosciutto, parmesan and another Peroni to finish. Anything would've tasted amazing but after the roller coaster of a day I had I was just happy to still be fighting fit with half a bike that was doing the same. The lady from upstairs came down, she happened to be her sister. Gabriella and Guido were the couple that took me in and neither knew a word of English but we managed to work things out with drawings and a big red translator they that Gabriella must've dug out from beneath the stairs. 9pm came and I said goodnight as I could see they were getting tired and again I'm left in yet more disbelief in the hospitality I've received. In coaching we are taught a technique of praise-discipline-praise or hug-slap-hug. I've had that sort of day. Nigel is by no way perfect and I may have to try and find the rogue noise making spoke tomorrow but amazingly if you look at the start of the day and look at the end it's been a success. The guts in the middle I would like to forget about but I won't because I would never of met Gabriella and Guido otherwise. Today I woke up with an aim to spark a conversation with someone, I thought this would come via the youth hostel and a possible night out with like minded similar aged people that may even be able to speak a little English. Instead it came via the nicest couple of non English speaking, 60-70 something's that I have ever met. My word has it been tough but this day has been another very special day.
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