Tuscany, Part 2

 Montecino to Montepulciano 

Phones get a lot of grief these days.  The giddy promise of the Internet in the 1990s turned out to be a double-edged sword, and just about everyone agrees phones are largely responsible for the division and "echo chamber" worlds we now call reality.

But this trip, I have gained a new respect for Phone.  Phone has proven absolutely invaluable in guiding us to where we needed to go, translating confusing documents, getting us on the correct train or bus, and letting us know what ancient arficact or structure we happen to be looking at currently.  

It also is pretty great about choosing bike routes from town to town in Italy.  It will give elevation profiles, distances, locations of restaurants and other services (and if they are open or not).  But Phone is a fickle God sometimes, and we learned today to give our obedience to the will of Phone.  Halfway from  Montecino to Montepulciano, we had been going along great- following Phone's "best route" option, which led us through more of Maximus' estate through the wheat and olive groves.  But there was a bit where it wanted us to leave the nice paved road we were on for a barely-existent dirt track that paralleled the road we were taking. 

Remembering stories of people who drove into lakes while slavishly following Google Maps, our trust in Phone faltered.  So when we got to a particularly charming little town whose only road let straight though the narrow cobblestone street, we had a refreshment break and decided to eschew Phone's advice in hopes of avoiding an upcoming hilly section.   It's hard to say if Phone was angered by our insolence, or just disappointed.  

In any event, a few kilometers down the road found us grinding up a very steep gravel road, wasting precious battery juice and the energy from our carb-intensive breakfast.  Jen was not pleased at this turn of events, yet she could say nothing, for like Eve before her, it had been her decision to defy the will of a higher power.  

Happily, however, the route did get us into position later for a nice long descent and a welcome return to the benevolent "best route."  But Hark!  Further down the road, within view of the stunning destination of Montepulciano, Phone instructed us to yet again stray from the pavement and head down into a valley toward the majestic hill town, whereas the paved route seemed to save more elevation.  

We decided to bow to the will of Phone, fearing further retribution.  But soon, we were convinced It was punishing us yet again as we plunged down the steep gravel road, past olive groves, vinyards, and toney resorts.  But then the trees parted, and we beheld the most magnificent view of the hill town a Romantic painter could imagine of the fortress city of Montepulciano perched high above, with verdant villas amoung vineyards below.  The cathedral of San Biagio artfully posted in the middle distance, and the whole scene was artfully lit with scattered clouds dappling the brilliant sunshine with perfectly placed areas of shadow.  

Of course, we still had to go up 4 km of gravel road to get to our destination, but it was very difficult to stay angry at the route, as it was absolutely beautiful the entire way up.   Faith restored and penance complete, we entered the historic area of Montepulciano and collapsed into a friendly cafe, happy to sample the famous "Nobile" wine and get some early dinner.

Accommodation this time was in an "agriturismo", which is a kind of room or hotel in a farm or rural residence, a popular format in Tuscany.  Ours was just a couple kilometers out of town.  The disadvantage to this is we gave the medieval town short shrift (we had arrived around 4, and were pretty tired when we did), but the advantage was a lovely experience of staying out in a ridgetop farmhouse with sweeping views of idyllic countryside just outside Montepulciano.  So we gave the beautiful town at least a little ride-through, took in the incredible vistas from the top of the city walls, and descended (it was impossible to do anything but from there) to our comfortable new residence.  

Montepulciano to Cortona

The sun rose over our pleasant farmstead, and outdid itself with a clinging mist about the ridgetops.  The weather again seemed quite favorable, so with a pleasant farewell of our hosts, we began the steep descent from the fortress-city of Montepulciano to another one in Cortona.  The elevation profile today looked less daunting than those previous, and we had less far to go.  Sure enough, we cruised relatively effortlessly over the hills and dales on lightly traveled back roads to Cortona.

Cortona, unlike the other hilltop fortresses we visited, rested more on the side of a foothill than the top, and though its approach was not as long as Montecino's, it was arguably steeper.  At least the route the fickle Phone chose was, and what had heretofore been an easy transit became laughably difficult as we ended the trip pushing the heavy bikes up much of the road and then through the cobblestone street/stairs of the ancient city.  But make it we did, and our kind host let us in early to the B&B.  We found ourselves in the rare position of actually having a little time in the afternoon after we freshened up to explore the town.  

We decided to take our host's suggestion and visit the MEAC museum just 2 blocks away (this is an ancient city btw, and "blocks" are really any shape and size one might imagine, as they are defined by streets that were probably originally goat paths winding in random directions).  Anyway, the museum was a good deal larger and more varied than one might expect in a town this size.  Though it specialized in Etruscan history (a pre-Roman advanced civilization), there were plenty of impressive exhibits of medieval art, ancient Egyptian artigacts, and yes, very strange Rennessance art depicting the various gorily martyred saints or the Virgin Mary either blessing the city of Cortona or stabbing/ crushing/ stomping the personifications of their enemies at the time.  Most of the buildings in the city (including our accommodations) were early Renaissance or late Medieval, which were in turn build on Roman structures, which were in turn built on the Etruscan ones.  

Jen and I joked that these museums so far were kind of like monster truck rallies in their absolutely overwhelming displays of antiquities- (Hey punk!  You want to see some old stuff?  You want to see A LOT OF OLD STUFF?   How about this old cross painted with gold in Medieval Times!  We got a whole room of em!!! But that's the new stuff!   How about this  ROMAN STUFF from the 1st CENTURY?!  We have mosaics, we got frescoes, we got coins, we got cool swords like in Gladiator!!!!  Pretty OLD, right!  NOOOOO!!!! Now here's even OLDER STUFF from the Etruscans!!!!! It's from the 6th  (*&(%(ing Century B.C.!!!!   Bet that's the oldest bronze hat you've EVER SEEN!!!  And that's a lot of intricately painted amphorae, right, you IDIOT!!! Why am I calling you an idiot?!   Because here we have 5 rooms of Egyptian STUFF THAT"S EVEN OLDER!!!!!  Mummies!  Carved figures!  AND VASES FILLED WITH THE LUNGS OF A DUDE WHO DIED 3000 YEARS AGO!!!!!   OLD!!!!!!!!!!)

And so on.   We walked around the city for a while longer, and by that time were pretty out of gas, and hit the issue that has somewhat haunted this bike tour from the beginning.  See, when you are bike touring, you want to get at least a semi-early start (say 9 am) so that you can get some distance behind you before the heat of the day.   So you do that, and even with a few rest breaks at pleasant little towns along the way, you generally end up at the destination around 3 or 4 pm. (Excuse me- 15 or 16, here- like the metric system, everybody else in the world uses military time).  The problem there is that Italians, like the Spanish, are pretty serious about their "riposo" or "siesta."  So, for example pretty much every restaurant shutters at 3, and you are pretty much SOL for food until 7 or 8, about sunset.  Then everything opens up again, and the relentlessly charming Italian nightlife begins.  

Only, we don't generally experience it. Thing is, we are really tired from biking all day, and having skipped lunch because it's pretty hot here and we know we have to keep biking afterwards, we are pretty excited for an early dinner.  Then, a little Netflix streamed from the Chromebook I write this on, and it's pretty much lights out by 8:30 or 9.    This is all fine in the bigger tourist cities, where you can get food any time (generally nearly the big piazza with the cathedral and the huge clock), but in the smaller towns, you are in Italy and you play by Italy rules.  

Breakfast, by the way, seems to be for Italians, first "why are you up this early?" Second, well, okay, for the people who have to be up, come on over to this cafe, have a tiny espresso and a corentto (like a crousaint but with a sweet glaze and often filled with jam- 5 stars btw) while you are standing up at the bar, and on your way.  The B&Bs I keep mentioning, are very common, and accommodate the strange ways of tourists by offering a little more substance via a wide variety of carb-heavy sweet pastries, fruit, yogurt, and sometimes a selection of salty ham varieties.  It's been almost 2 weeks, and as good as all these things are, they ain't a Denver omelette with a side of hash browns with a cup of honest joe.  Being a breakfast guy to my very core, it's always a little tough on trips like this.  Exception: the English breakfast.  Sure the baked beans and tomato wheel are a little weird, but close enough, and black pudding isn't nearly as gross tasting as it sounds.  

Cortona to Montevarchi

So the best book I could find to plan these trips, (Lonely Planet's "Biking in Italy") was both sadly out of date (2009: I guess nobody independently bike tours anymore?) and really not worried about loops.  I like loops.  Loops are great because everything you see is new.  Also, even though you can take a train from just about anywhere in Italy to anywhere in Italy, it vexes me to do a loop that peters out a day or two short of being a loop- feels like quitting to me.  So this trip, which was a combination of the "Chianti Classic" tour and the "Hilltop Villages" tour, ceases in Cortona, with the slavish followers of its quitter agenda loading their bikes on the very convenient train at the base of the hill and returning to Florence or Siena.  This is, of course, loser talk.  

So we press on, because we are sturdy American folk, not some nebbish Brit travel writers with their wry commentary and practical world-view.  I mean did the wagons on the Oregon trail stop in Boise?  No!  They pressed on to the sweet sweet Willamette Valley and only most of them died of cholera, typhus, or starvation!  

So today we went bravely off-book.  Really off-book off-book, because upon closer examination of my previous plan to complete the loop, I was routing us up and over a 1200 vertical-meter pass (that's about 4000 vertical feet for we AMERICANS), which is pretty bone crushing even with an under-powered e-bike, and would likely end in either my divorce or murder via spouse or both.  So, I re-calculated the route via the less exciting and more direct route, with Montevarchi being our midpoint rather than Bibbiena.  I worried this substitution would yield a rather dull and utilitarian route, albeit much less arduous.  

But I am proud to report that the Most Improved Day of the Bike Tour goes to... today!  Now, I know the Most Improved award is usually a backhanded compliment to the kid on the team who tries hard but is not as blessed with natural athletic talent (speaking from experience here: my high school cross-country coach once told our entire team that if he had "Olsen's heart in Julio's (our talented yet undisciplined star) body, that then, by God, I would have a runner!"))     But, honestly, Today, you really came through for us.  We started out unpromisingly on a pretty busy road which was pretty boring, but then I decided to improvise on the Google route, and we found a nice little parallel road to our midpoint in Arezzo, which was the 1.5 lane, newly paved gem you really hope for.  After a nice iced coffee break in the beautiful Medieval piazza of Arezzo (giant clock, belltower, and cathedral?  Check, check, check!), we moved on.  Now, it seemed like Today faltered for a minute there, as the first half hour was again on a busy boring road, but then, you rascal Today, you got us to a great run of little rural roads, charming gravel lanes, and even a very strange selection of rough 2-track that made us think Phone was punishing us again.  The clouds of the morning cleared away, and we discovered a little restaurant hidden away in the countryside all by itself.  There was a huge snake trying to get in the restaurant, and the woman who lived there nearly had a heart attack when she saw it, causing quite the comic scene.  Her teenage boy was dispatched to remove it, which resulted in yet more hilarity.  We then had a really great lunch in a garden by the river.  The owners swore up and down that the restaurant could be seen in the background of the Mona Lisa, so let's just say that was true.  We have now eaten in the background of the most famous painting of the world.  

The rest of the way to the hastily-arranged B&B in Montevarchi was either by lightly traveled road or by designated bike trail parallel to the road under brilliant blue skies and lovely scenery, which may or may not have also been the background of the Mona Lisa.   Montevarchi is a perfectly pleasant town, and I write this now during the siesta, like apparently you are supposed to do instead of frantically trying to experience the "Top Sights" of the Rough Guide, and look forward to a dinner later at a culturally appropriate time.   It's helpful that the town doesn't really have much particularity pressing to go see, so we didn't feel to bad kicking our feet up and resting from Today's excursions.   

So great job, Today.  We might not have though you could do it, but you proved us wrong.  Let's hope your sibling, Tomorrow, can put in half the performance, as we round out this fantastic adventure and return to Florence. 

Final Day!  (7)  Montevarchi to Florence

Well, Tomorrow, you did it.   (This is going to get confusing.  Tomorrow, you are now Today.  Today, you are now Yesterday.)  Today, you did it.   Very soon in our exit of Montevarchi, we encountered a "Greenway" trail that followed the River Arno, the very same that runs along the southern edge of Florence and is spanned by many famous bridges the Nazis blew up in WWII to slow advancing Allied forces.  It's a lot more peaceful today, and to our delight, the Greenway kept going and going for 30 km or so in various incarnations- sometimes a nicely graded gravel path, sometimes a route through a park, and other time a little one-lane road that was also a few peoples' driveway.  It all seemed (by the signage) to be part of a larger regional effort to connect Florence and the surrounding smaller cities with off-highway bike routes, and we took full advantage- spinning nearly effortlessly through agricultural land (olives, grapes, corn, wheat) and little villages, hardly sharing the path with anyone but hikers and other cyclists all the way to a mountain pass we had to get over to get to Florence.   

At this point, the path sadly ended, but it being a Saturday morning (and an absolutely perfect one at that- 65 and sunny), we got back on Strada Proviciale 1, and were happy to find it  newly paved and lightly trafficked.  Perhaps it was that it was a weekend morning, or it could be that the valley was shared by the AI (what we would term a freeway), and that most people wanting to get somewhere quickly would opt for that instead of the winding narrow road we preferred. Up and up, the views of verdant hillsides got ever better, until we reached the last of our hilltop towns, a little spot that only boasted one little ancient castle and one smallish ancient cathedrual.  Being the American cretins we are, we gave these not a second glance, but got a celebratory beer at the place with the deck looking back down the pass we had just conquered.  

We then began a magnificent descent down down down through lots of little villages and wildflower-covered hillsides, as the great Duomo of Florence came into view and grew gradually larger as we approached.  From this angle, we got a much better idea of the scope of Florence, riding through 10 km or so of suburbs.  Fortunately, the Phone had in it's little brain the location of the the separated red bike roads (it knew nothing of the Greenway earlier) and it routed us on those pretty much right into the heart of the city where our new accommodations awaited.  (more on this later) 

It was siesta, so we had to wait until 3:30 when the bike shop re-opened, but this gave us a chance to freshen up, dump our panniers at the hotel, and have a celebratory beer and a sandwich at the sidewalk cafe.  We then got the bikes returned, retrieved our packs with our extra stuff we left there, and spent the rest of the time until dinner dealing with logistics-  train tickets, museum research, preparing the depressingly large box of stuff we brought that we didn't need and don't want to schlep around for another month to send home.  

Final thoughts on the Tuscany Bike Tour:

- First, this was a freaking awesome part of the trip.  I have bike toured in a lot of places around the world, and the only one that touched this one in scenery was Andalucia in Spain.  The roads were great for the most part, the people really friendly, and the accommodations easy to find and charming as *(^*&&(.  It's enough adventure to feel really satisfying, but never scary or overly intimidating.  The culture is fascinating, the food suburb, and the history extremely deep.  I would recommend it to anyone kinda sorta fit (I mean, 2 middle-aged rednecks did it with basically no training).   Finally, in a country drowning in tourists, it's a great way to see the country with a little elbow room around you.    

- Yeah, 7 days was a big chunk of our 6 week trip to dedicate to this, but at least for me, it was well worth it.  I may go into a whole reflection about basing a trip to try to see as many famous things as possible, versus getting off the beaten track and seeing more of the non-tourist trap Italy, but for now, pretty happy with the choice we made. 

- Left turn lights don't apparently mean you have right of way to turn left ahead of traffic.  Apparently, they have a green too, or at least behave like they do.  Harrowing to find this out first time on a bike.  

- People are very used to bikes here and even though there is rarely a shoulder, drivers are generally pretty respectful, so don't worry about the "crazy Italian driver" thing.

- The various accommodations we stayed in seemed very used to bikes, and were always ready to make accommodations to store them safely overnight.  We had gotten lots of stern warnings that bike thieves were everywhere and would pounce at a moment's notice.  Sure didn't seem that way out in the country, and we kept our valuable valuables in our packs on our backs with the water bladders.  So I suppose a motivated thief could have pawed through my dirty socks at a lunch stop, but it didn't seem like a huge problem if you weren't an idiot about it.   

- Next bike tour we are packing like we are going backpacking.  We brought way more stuff than we needed, thinking we were on E-bikes and it wouldn't matter if we had a couple extra pounds.  It did.  It shortened our range, reduced the performance on the hills so you had to huff and puff up the steeper ones.  Also I am pretty sure the maximum wattage of e-bikes is lower than the states- our cruising speed was lower and the range was shorter, so some days it was touch and go if we would have enough juice to make it all the way, even if you were stingy with the assist.