Greetings from Merano

We spent the day in the Dolomites and no wonder this place has been designated a world heritage site. This mountain range must be one of the most beautiful landscapes anywhere in the world with vertical walls, sheer cliffs and deep, long valleys. There are apparently 18 peaks which rise to above 3,000 metres and our legs are testament to this.

Yes that's Harley...

We left the hotel in Cortina at 8 and headed straight into the first of our three climbs of the day, we were looking at doing about 11,000 ft. or 3350 meters of ‘up’ today. It was a beautiful morning, only spoiled by squadrons of leather clad Germans on huge motorcycles carving up the narrow roads and making it somewhat difficult to appreciate our surroundings.

Lunch was at a small bar the top of the Valparola pass, shortly after we arrived a group of rather green Dutch cyclists turned up and we thought it better to get off the mountain before they started to swarm down the mountain.

Green Dutch Cyclists

Bolted down some pasta and by the time we were ready to go the rain had arrived again. Thankfully only a light shower compared to yesterday, but enough to make you cautions on the steep descent.

By mid afternoon we got to our third and final peak of the day, the sun was out again as we headed down to Bolzano for the last stretch from there to Merano. It was getting late and Chris was determined to get to our destination before 7 O’clock, consequently we all chose to ignore Harley’s increasing desperate pleas for ice cream.

A plea for ice cream (unheard)

I remember from our last trip to this part of the world the fabulous cycle paths that run along the valleys connecting the towns. The only issue can be finding your way through this complex network of paths as they weave through the towns. Graham took us to several distinctly uninteresting industrial estates. “we’d be OK if there was someone to ask” he kept repeating, which would have been a worthy sentiment if his lack of proficiency at Italian and his British approach of ‘if they don’t understand shout louder’ had not already taken us off towards the Austrian border on two separate occasions earlier in the afternoon. Anyway, we eventually discovered the path we were supposed to be on and found ourselves following a very fit group of lycra clad women cyclists, flying towards Merano; we fell in behind them with Chris keen to take the lead and suddenly going rather faster than he’d managed at any point over the proceeding days.

We got to the City Hotel about 7, another excellent place. Good, large gin and tonics on arrival and after the usual kit washing ceremony, we headed out to a small Italian restaurant, frequented by locals which is always a good sign. The waitress fell in love with Graham, which was nice and which made him feel better after all the abuse he’d received about his navigation earlier in the day.

"What's a nice girl like you doing in a place like this..."

The mighty Stelvio tomorrow. Keep you posted.

Geetings from Cortina

After another excellent breakfast, we set off at 8 O’clock from the Hotel Aplis and our route took us immediately up onto a very quiet road, climbing the side of the mountain.

Final adjustments

 We passed through sleepy Alpine villages, men enjoying their first espressos of the day in street cafes before heading off to work. Robust, middle aged women wandering along pavements with empty, colourful shopping bags. The climb was relentless, as lorries passed us on their way down the mountain they rather unusually flashed us, which we took as a sign of encouragement – little did we know what it actually meant! 10 miles into the climb it all became clear; as we rounded a corner, we discovered a bridge across a ravine was being rebuilt, it was still there, but covered in cement lorries and scaffolding. The site Forman leaped out of his hut, his gesticulations indicating that we could go no further. Whilst there was clearly major work going on with the bridge, it still seemed intact and we asked whether we could cross; only fair we thought, given that there were no signs anywhere in the previous 10 miles that even hinted there might be a problem. The response was an unequivocal ‘No’. In a very Sudanese moment, Chris offered him 50 euros to let us cross, in a very non-Sudanese moment, the Forman gave us a long and slightly threatening lecture about health and safety (in Italian). We beat a retreat.

I think there's something wrong with that bridge...

We faced a choice. We could climb down the side of the valley, somehow cross the river at the bottom of the gorge and then clamber up through the forest on the other side in an attempt to find the road beyond the broken bridge, or cycle back down the 10 miles of mountain and find a different route to our destination. Graham, was an advocate for the former, mountaineering option; the rest of us were less keen to get lost in Alpine pine forests with bikes slung over our shoulders. We’d all been ‘off piste’ with Graham before and somewhat regretted the experience, so voted for retracing our steps. There is an unbroken tradition on these trips that in the morning of day 3, Graham loses his rag about something, and sure enough, our decision to head back down the mountain set him off. “this is bloody ridiculous, I come all the way up here only to be told to turn round and come back, I’m almost a pensioner you know”.  

The broken red line spells trouble

Our new route took us onto a busier road, higher in the mountains. A, nice pedal apart from the lorries and a 4 kilometre tunnel, something that as a cyclist, its good to try and avoid. They are typically too narrow, you can’t see the road properly in the dark and the ventilation system is so deafening you can’t hear all the bloody great lorries coming up behind you, Harley hates tunnels...

So after the mornings detour, we got to Auronzo di Cadore in time for lunch at an excellent pizza restaurant. And then a clap of thunder announced the afternoon’s entertainment, the rain started coming down like stair rods, it made a monsoon day in Khartoum seem like a small shower.

Nice view from the restaurant window (Not)

We had no option as we were running late, so waterproofs of and with that feeling that you get when you are about to jump into a cold swimming pool, we left the shelter of the restaurant and set off through the rain. Another big, wet, silent climb up to Passo Tre Croci at 1850 meters and then the long descent on dangerously damp roads to our final destination, the excellent Ambra Hotel in Cortina.

The Ambra Hotel

Keep you posted...

Greetings from Ovaro

We left the Hotel Dobra Vila at 08:15 and for any of you who happen to be visiting Bovec, I would strongly recommend it.  The rooms were large, comfortable and interesting, the service excellent and the breakfasts perfect for cyclists. Within 15 minutes we were in the first of the three major climbs  of the day a 1,000 meters up into the mountains starting at Zaga. A beautiful, clear morning; bird song and the sound of streams flowing over rocks was all that could be heard as we picked our way along the mountain roads. At the top we came across the deserted boarder crossing between Slovenia and Italy, a little further on was the Italian boarder post, a fat policeman waved us through without looking up from his newspaper.


Hotel Dobra Vila

Then a sweeping descent, tired hands from hanging onto the breaks before we reached the valley for a few kilometres of straight flat roads. The second climb started at Uccea. A narrow potholed road leading up the side of the mountain. The difficulty of this climb set Graham off again who complained to Chris that if he’d spent more time planning the route, these sort of roads could be easily avoided. Chris explained the hours of meticulous planning that he’d put in, and the objective was more about scenery than sadism. To illustrate this investment, those of you who work with Chris will be able to find this project codified as ‘development of sales strategy’ on your timesheet system.


Crossing the border

The third climb of the day was the real killer. 8 miles of climb starting at Sutrio, taking us up to 1750 meters and you can see why they take the Giro D’Italia up this way from time to time. Most of its pretty steep at about 10% but the last 2 miles has some interesting 15%+ stretches before you get to the top, the ski resort of Zoncolan Alarmingly, at the top there’s a memorial to Franco Ballerina, the famous Italian cyclist who got killed on the way down this mountain when he went off the edge, which you can imagine set Graham off again. Actually it was a great descent but there were a few interesting hairpins with no rails!

Memorial to Franco Ballerini at Zoncolan

From the bottom it was a 10km ride to the hotel Aplis. Great place, charming Italian host who makes excellent gin and tonics. Harley used his extensive knowledge of Italian to order the meal this evening; something that looks very much like poached goats eyes and chips has just turned up.

Keep you posted....

7

Greetings from Bovec in Slovenia’s astoundingly beautiful Triglav National Park

The way we organise things is to ask the Concierge at our first hotel to get our large bike cases sent on to our last hotel. As a rule this works, although I remember one mildly frustrating evening in Venice when we discovered we had only the one bike box turn up between the four of us. This year it was Graham who organised these logistics so when a man in a dark suit started pointing at the bike boxes and laughing; as we were going down to breakfast, Graham attempted to confirm these arrangements with him. We observed that Graham was getting increasingly frustrated by this interaction, the man in the dark suit started shouting something in German. Graham shouted back something about BREXIT as the whole thing started to get a bit out of control. Needless to say, the man in dark suit was as much a concierge as I am, it transpired that whilst he was a keen cyclist, he had just rolled in from a wedding and was very much the worse for ware.

The Man in the Dark Suit...

We departed the excellent the Grand Union hotel in Ljubljana at about 8 O’clock and headed north west towards the mountains. A beautiful sunny morning as we started to climb through fields of white, yellow and purple wild flowers and fat Alpine cows eyeing us suspiciously as we pedalled by.

Into the mountains

 The small country roads turned into a network beautifully organised cycle paths, busy with rather earnest road bikers and families on their Sunday morning out. After a soup and pasta lunch at a restaurant in the ski resort of Kranska Gora, with questionable stock control policies as they served us Santa Claus Coca-Cola, we got into proper hills and this was tough.

Christmas in May

For my part, my cycling in Sudan meant I haven’t cycled up any kind of hill for the past 6 months so it was a nasty shock as we got into some 15% climbs. I caught up with Graham who was muttering “I bloody hate hills”, “they’ve only planned this route to get their own back” and “I’m nearly a sodding pensioner you know”.

Chris at the top!

When we eventually got to the top – Vrsic, at a modest 1611 meters, the view was absolutely wonderful. This is a stunningly beautiful country. The descent consisted of sharp hairpin turns and halfway down, Chris and I stopped to let the brakes cool down; Graham sailed past “I hate bloody hills”, “these roads are bloody dangerous, a pensioner could kill himself out here”.

Almost a pensioner - with a new green hat

At the bottom of the mountain, a positively Sudanese wind was blowing up the valley so we battled through until we got to Bovec, our destination. The Hotel Dobra Vila is a charming old place but we only had three rooms booked, thankfully Harley agreed to share with Chris providing he could have the room with the rocking horse, a rather shaping experience from his childhood, apparently.

What can I say...

Out to dinner this evening. Graham’s wearing socks with sandals.

Keep you posted...
 

Day 1 - quite a climb for day 1

Greetings from Ljubljana

We got to Luton airport at about 05:30 and prepared to do battle with the Great British bank-holiday weekend get away. Apart from long queues for everything, we had a pleasantly uneventful flight to Ljubljana.

As you drive into the city from the airport the Soviet, cement suburbs give way to the romantic architecture of this jewel of the Austrio-Hungarian empire with a sky line dominated by the 15 century Ljubljana Castle. The city survived various 20th century invasions from Italy and Germany before succumbing to Soviet dominance as part of Yugoslavia. Slovenia of which Ljubljana is the capital became an  independent country in 1991 and there is a youth and energy about the place which is infectious.

After a distinctly beery lunch in a small restaurant by the river, we retired to the hotel to do bicycle assembly which thankfully did not, this year require a trip to the local bike shop for emergency repairs.

A few more calories before kick-off

So out for a Slovenian meal this evening in the City. I think we are all set for tomorrow and an early start, heading off to the Triglav National Park for our first go at the mountains.

Keep you posted...

Into the mountains...

This year marks the 10^th anniversary since we started our cycling tours of Europe and I have some great memories on which to reflect.

The early morning sun burning the mist off the purple mountains as we rode through Glen Coe in the Highlands. Trying to make sense of the desolate country roads around the Scottish town of Wick after a visit to the Clynelish distillery. Picking our way through the vineyards of Burgundy with each village, an echo from the dusty pages of Claridge’s wine list or late one night, staggering into the sinister Rosergarten Hotel, high in the Alps after a 130 mile day, crossing the Stelvio pass and climbing 14,000 feet. In Italy, long summer days enjoying the grandeur and scale of the Apennines around Monte Cassino. More or less collapsing of exhaustion in a bus shelter in the tiny, southern Italian mountain village of Mormanno, then finding a rustic inn for the night before a long descent through high mountain passes to rejoin the others on the coast. The ferry across the clear, blue Mediterranean waters of the Messina Straight to Sicily. Riding through the ‘flatlands’ of central Spain and the imposing medieval castles or paradors in which we stayed. The remarkable Turia Gardens in Valencia created from a diverted riverbed. The bullet holes of Croatia and the beauty of Dubrovnik.

This year we plan to spend a few days in the Alps and Dolomites. A shorter ride (476 miles / 766km) but what we are losing in distance, we are making up for in climbing (64,975ft / 19,800 meters) or a little over 2 Mount Everests. The plan is to return to Ljubljana, the picturesque capital of Slovenia, head North West into Triglavski National Park before crossing the boarder into Italy, navigating the Dolomites and then up into the Alps, traversing the Stelvio pass once again at 2760 meters then down to lake Garda and finishing in Verona.

Jeremy has ‘apologised’ for this trip with various excuses ranging from being too old, too grumpy and not wishing to be seen in the company of people who wear such cheap cycling jerseys.

Unusually healthy breakfast

As for the rest of us, no major changes since last year's trip. Chris is still responsible for selling vast quantities of (Ransomware free) software to the NHS. Graham continues to run his ever expanding garden maintenance business which seems responsible for cutting every front lawn in the South of England. Harley will probably be 'in-oil' for the rest of his days. For my part, life continues in Khartoum where I'm enjoying the work, the people and the place as much as ever. No mis-adventures with the Secret Police or broken legs on my cycle rides this year, just the excellent company of the Sudanese Amateur Cyclists Group.

The Sudanese Amateur Cyclists

On the personal side, we all seem to have arrived at that point in our lives when most of the children have buggered off to various universities and if mine are anything to go by, struggling to find the right balance between smoking strange substances, partying and actually doing some work.

So we are all set I think. Flights booked, logistics arranged, nutrition packs sent to each hotel en route. Spanners, a first aid kit and a spare inner tube, all packed.

Keep you posted!