Orbetello to Sorano

15 May Camping Feniglia at Orbetello

We continue to look forward to the weather clearing. It has rained all last night and all today. We decided it was a stay in the tent day – reading books, catching up on sleep, up-dating our annotations on the map and writing postcards. Apart from occasional visits to the ablutions, we did not get up until after 6pm, when hunger drove me to check whether the camp pizzeria was open. Sure enough it is and I am sitting here writing with a glass of wine, listening to the rain. It is cold, and the campground is clearly set up for warm, sunny weather, not cold rain!

If it continues to rain tomorrow (or even, perhaps, if it doesn't,) we are contemplating a day trip by train to Tarquinia which is about 30km on the way back to Rome and is, evidently, a great Etruscan site.

[I joined Phil here in the restaurant at 7.30. It's still raining, but I feel warmish, rested and clean. The shower block is reminiscent of the spartan stalag-like one in Sardinia, with cold-water washbasins and French hole-in the floor toilets. It is clean though. I undressed, put a jeton into the machine outside the shower and waited hopefully. Nothing happened. I decided to try thumping it. A more vigorous couple of whacks, and the shower produced a stream of cold water which eventually became warm enough to put my head under. I had almost rinsed out the shampoo when 'clunk' everything cut out. Luckily I was prepared. This time the jeton went straight down and I had a slightly warmer second half.

Three little boys at the other table have an enormous pizza and a glass of coke each. As Phil pointed out, they're eating slowly and engaging in animated conversation with each other.]

An enormous, delicious, pizza has just arrived. Gail has a rather nice risotto pescatore. This is a campground restaurant! Where are the chiko rolls?


16 May Camping Feniglia at Orbetello

We got ourselves the 10km to the station by 10am, by dint of riding through lakes of puddles filling the road from the campground from one side to the other. We watched how far the water came up on the cars, and after I nearly got stuck in muddy gravel at the edge, slowly steered a middle course without coming off! We arrived panting, to find a train had left for Tarquinia at 9.30, and there wasn't another one until 1.54pm.
OK then, it was only 30kms or so and although very overcast it wasn't actually raining – we'd ride there. I strapped the red bag on the back of Phil's bike with an okky while he checked the GPS. Hmmm. It was 50kms as the crow flies, and we were in 'civilian' clothes for a train trip. Never mind. 50Kms + wouldn't take long. We set off from the station …... and it immediately started to rain. We weren't dressed for this:you can't get cotton trousers and a cotton skirt wet and stay warm.

To console ourselves we had croissants filled with crema (custard) at a nearby bar, and came up with another plan.

We'd buy lunch somewhere in Orbetello, and look around it. Then we'd take the 2pm train and come back on one which would get us back at 8 ish. (It is light til around 9pm).

So, we tootled around Orbetello, which was rather pleasant and had lunch which was also pleasant, then headed back for the train. The train came in, was really long and did not have any bike sign at the front. The back was too far so we just hauled the bikes in and tied them up. The conductor appeared and said the bikes were in the wrong place, but shrugged OK when we said we were only going 2 stops.

Tarquinia was up a hill, but that was OK. The day grew clearer and warmer and we shed clothes to get there. We found the museum which was in a large former monastery, and fun in itself. The exhibits mainly consisted of sarcophagi and grave treasures. It was pretty interesting.

After the museum we went up through the medieval town to the necropolis, where 19 Etruscan graves have been excavated. The main feature was the frescoes, some of which were pretty good and some of which had all but disappeared. We ran out of stamina after 8 or so, and went back to the town to poke around the medieval part. This was good – some buildings dated back to the 12th century and yet everything still seemed to be in use.

Even better, at 6.40 the main thoroughfare started filling with smartly dressed people – men in jackets and ties, women in pants or dresses with with a nice jacket over the top - everyone was out on their Sunday passegiata and the atmosphere of the town was suddenly quite transformed. Friendliness and sociability was in the very air. Couples walked arm in arm, families stopped to talk to friends, a little group of girls of about 12, all extremely pretty and excited to be out and on show – and pretending to be oblivious to the little group of boys not far behind - stopped to talk to family groups, and then to two old ladies, who chucked one of them under the chin. What a wonderful way to celebrate interconnectedness, and to foster it. How sad that we don't do it in Australia. How much richer and warmer our lives would be if we spent an hour a day in the company of family, friends and neighbours. We haven't said this before, but Italian people are very polite, and when you make eye contact with anyone, it's normal to say 'Buongiorno' and they'll reply 'giorno' and then once the shops open again after siesta at 4.30-5pm, 'Buona sera' or just 'sera'. So, because we stood out in bike clothes, and were pushing our bikes, we said 'sera' quite a few times,

Back to the station again, and this time we incurred the disapproval of the driver, as we got on the front carriage – the bike area was at the very back – i.e. about 200m away. When we explained we were only going a couple of stops he nodded OK.

Got to Orbetello, where we were accosted by a pleasant couple who could speak English quite well and were interested in where we came from and what we were up to. The husband told us a few things about Pitigliano and they both sang the praises of Sorano, which is on the itinerary.

We cycled back to the campground, negotiating the slightly reduced 'flood plains' in very deep dusk, and have just had dinner in the restaurant, again.

17 May Camera in Pitigliano

Well I thought 'getting a chill' was an old wives tale but I did get very cold riding home last night, and didn't stop to put on my raincoat. This morning I got behind Phil, and had to ask him to slow down. Whenever I went into shade, I came out in goose-bumps and when we stopped for lunch in the driveway of a nursery selling among other things, massive 100s of year old olive trees, I lay on my back and wanted to rest forever. At this point Phil insisted on taking the tent.

The scenery for all of this stretch was flat and semi suburban, but gradually the country became rural, a bit wooded and hilly and much lusher. Signs for agriturismos (country houses offering bed and an evening meal) appeared with increasing regularity. We discussed the possibility of stopping at one, because today's ride was 70kms with big hills in the second part, and I didn't think I could possibly make it, but we kept discounting them - “too ordinary, too far off the road, too expensive looking, only a phone number – they might not be there, etc etc”

Once we were in rolling hills, our gentle tail wind changed to a very cold head-wind, and the black cloud above us started spitting on us. We just had time to pull on raincoats and (me) overshoes, before the deluge began. 100 m ahead was a typical Tuscan farmhouse; stone, square and two or three storied. Not usually good for shelter. But this one had a huge machinery shed/garage on the ground floor with the doors wide open. We sprinted up the driveway, and watched it become a torrent as the rain pelted down. Gradually the rain eased off drastically, and we set off again, mentally thanking our unknowing hosts for their hospitality.

We reached Manciano and stopped for cakes and tea/coffee. With another 20km to Pitigliano we started looking in earnest for an agriturismo. Finally we decided on one and the young woman was home. “Cucina?” I asked hopefully. No, sorry, no dinner. We weren't carrying enough food with us to make dinner, so that was no good.

We looked at the route profile again; there was about 10kms of downhill and 10kms of climbing. I decided I could do it, so with some bread and jam to sustain me en route, and some judicious walking, we got here.

Usually hill towns are on the top of hills (!!!!) so they poke up and you can see them for miles around. We wondered why we couldn't see Pitigliano. When we were upon it, we realised why. It is built on a massive outcrop of rock, but that rears up out of a deep, forested gorge which surrounds it on three sides, so its actual height is about the same as the surrounding country. It looks spectacular. The road of course, dips right down low, and then climbs right up high!

The recommended B&B was closed, but this one was an ok price, spotlessly clean and comfortable, and looked onto a 16th century aqueduct and the street below, so we took it for two nights. We ran into an older English couple doing a 4 week tour on folding bikes, and staying in the same place. I had a long hot shower and fell into bed. When Phil woke me after his dinner with an utterly delicious pizza, I was wet with sweat.


18th May Camera in Pitigliano

We had breakfast in our room after an expedition by me to buy milk, yoghurt, bananas, and glad wrap (more of that later). I ran into the English couple who were setting off. Their luggage consisted of a small backpack each in a shopping basket on the handlebars. No wonder they were bemused when they saw our loaded bikes yesterday.

Spent the rest of the morning trying without much success to Skype (internet reception not v good), then walking all around the medieval town which is pretty impressive looking and has wonderful vistas of the lush surrounding gorges and hills.

Lunch was a d.i.y. salad while enjoying the views. Then Gail retreated to the room and, with the aid of the above mentioned gladwrap hennaed her hair – first time she's done that on a bike ride. This process took some time, and I went and had a coffee and came back for a siesta, but finished reading my book instead. Then I amused myself by watching the traffic. Our window is above a hairpin bend without footpaths, where all traffic coming down from the main modern town meets all traffic going up. This includes pedestrians, trucks, buses, police cars, scooters, three wheelers, ordinary cars, and at one stage a man on a bike with his dog trotting beside him on a lead. For four wheeled vehicles, it was not possible to get around and stay on the right side of the street. Remarkably, it was neither chaotic nor stressed.

Then more walking including down some staircases to the edge of the town where there were occasional terraces, and to the old ghetto, where the museum and synagogue had closed for the day.

We ate a dinner at a pleasant little restaurant, but are a bit over eating out at the moment. Mostly, the food is nice but not particularly memorable, though Gail said last night's pizza was really good with a fine crispy base and delectable cheese topping. The best she has ever eaten, she says...which perhaps explains why I was not offered a piece.


19 May B & B in Sorano

I sweated in the night again, and found to my dismay that trying to carry my panniers downstairs in one go left me trembling and exhausted. Oh dear! Today was supposed to be about 57 kms, but all but 10 were pretty steeply up. We'd left our room though, so we set off anyway, leaving our copy of the Leopard with the owner, “free to a good home”. We wound our way down through the lovely gorge and up again, in mild, overcast weather. Savona was only 9kms way, but we watched as purple-black clouds massed in one half of the sky, and thunder rolled. We got there for a sprinkle of rain. Sarona was tiny and touristy. We saw the old church, and somehow entirely missed the fabulous Duomo with primitive, romanesque carvings (which we've just seen in a book!). We also met a couple with a lovely dog. They spoke a little English, lived near beautiful Lake Como in the North, and confided that their dream was to retire from there to Australia. We refrained from commenting on this surprising aspiration, but they got one of the koalas, for 'good luck'.

The clouds continued to gather blackly, but we cycled bravely(!) on to Sorano, about 9 km on, hoping to beat the deluge as the temperature plummeted. We had left Pitigliano, thinking it was going to be pretty hard for any other hill-town to compare, but here was Sorano, another 'Tufo' town, surrounded by even more rugged and spectacular gorges. We got there just in time and, from the safety of a shop awning, watched the downpour start as we piled on warm clothes.

In all the circumstances, we decided 14 kms was plenty for one day, and that, in the short term, food was more important than lodgings. However, we'd forgotten that it was Wednesday, and all shops selling food close for the day at lunchtime. Instead, we found an inviting-looking restaurant packed with people. There was hot soup, and also the owners rented a room in their house. Said room is in a medieval house, but this one feels really old. There's curves, and arches, and a winding staircase, and the once rough brick floor of our room, which has gentle slopes in it, is worn smooth and shiny. However, we have a modern little bathroom, and central heating – which the owners put on, because it was no more than 9 or10 degrees outside this afternoon.

The owners came home to rest, and we put on raincoats and all of our warm clothes, borrowed their umbrellas, and went out in the rain to explore the town. The setting makes it feel like a mythical place.

We returned to their restaurant for a refreshingly simple and well-cooked Tuscan dinner. Only one other couple came in apart from us. Tomorrow we're hoping to acquire some food of our own and actually ride the rest of the 57km.