Rural Rides in Central Italy

Beyond Lazio: A Short Ride in the Morvan

2009-04-05T00:40:00.008+01:00

20-28 August 2007

Day 1 - Mon 20 Aug 2007
The Avignon TGV station rises like a great steel and glass whale from the plain to the east of the old city. It is now the jumping off point for far-off destinations: Paris is a non-stop three-hour ride away; London, in summer, is reachable in five.

We found a parking space just outside the perimeter. We were to discover later that this was none too fortunate a choice. We pulled our bikes out of our car, reassembled them, and marched into the station. We were about to catch the 10.30 TGV to Le Creusot, which is about half way between Lyon and Paris.

British and Italian rail services take note: you can put your bicycle on the Trains à Grande Vitesse, which have been shrinking distances in France for 25 years – it was their anniversary in this summer of 2007. You book a few days ahead, online or at a station, and pay 10 euros. Our train had a special, if cramped, compartment at the front taking up to six bikes. Passengers were automatically allocated seats just next to the bike compartment. I have heard of no other country where long-distance trains take bikes. Please send me a comment if you know better.

The train glided into the station on time, and ninety minutes later we were in Lyon. After a modest meal at the Part-Dieu station we caught the ongoing train to Le Creusot. But now there was no special bike compartment, the train was crowded and we had to stand in the corridor, holding out bikes upright, for the entire journey. Fortunately it was only forty minutes before we rolled to a brief halt at the futuristic Le Creusot TGV station under a leaden sky.

Quickly realising that Le Creusot itself was some distance away from the station, and facing a rainy ride, I wondered why we had chosen this part of France for a summer bike tour, given that we usually stay in the south for our rides.

A fascination for the local area remembered from journeys south on the TGV from Paris to Lyon was partly the cause. Heading south from Paris, the train rushes non-stop through a remote, nameless countryside, with no obvious landmarks, no major towns. All you can see are rolling pastures, a few forests and farmsteads that seem rooted in the early nineteenth century. A combination of the new station at Le Creusot, the fact that TGVs now take bikes, and a desire to go somewhere different on our annual ride, encouraged us to come and explore. In addition, I had been given an old, English-language edition of the Michelin Green Guide to the Morvan.

Despite our lack of maps and the poor weather, we eventually pedalled painfully uphill into the town, past a huge steam hammer, rebuilt at a crossroads to symbolise the town’s place in the French industrial revolution. As in the north of England, a combination of available water power, timber, coal and iron ore, combined with the entrepreneurship of the likes of Eugène Schneider, ensured Le Creusot’s place in industrial history. However, and again as in the north of England, the industries that made Le Creusot great are long gone.

Monument to Eugène Scheider, Le Creusot

We found a room at the Hotel-Bar-Restaurant “La Belle Époque” on Place Schneider in the centre of Le Creusot. The seemingly relentless rain had now ceased and we were able to explore the town, including the Schneider Museum, housed in an imposing mansion set in a park just off Place Schneider. The grounds were full of the cannon that the Schneider Company churned out for use in various nineteenth-century wars.

Some Schneider cannon

My stuff on the hotel floor, Le Creusot

Place Eugène Schneider, Le Creusot

Day 2 - Tues 21 Aug 2007
Up early the next day; most of our clothes were now dry. Breakfast at the hotel before setting off on our next “étape” (stage). We were riding to Luzy by way of Montcenis, La Tagnière and St. Nizier-sur-Arroux. It was a beautiful gentle ride through rolling farmland. The rain held off for most of the trip. We wanted to have lunch at La Tagnière but the only restaurant was closed on Tuesdays. Luckily we managed to get picnic supplies at the “Epicerie-Tabac” and we had our lunch on a bench by the church.

A chateau near Le Creusot

Luzy was a small market town where nothing happened. However we stayed at a pleasant hotel, “Chez Antonio”. Antonio himself is of Sicilian descent, always a guarantee of hospitality and good food.

Ride data: Tot. km: 47.08; Time: 3h 18 min 54 sec; Av. Km/h: 14.2; Max km/h 46.5

Day 3 - Wed 22 Aug 2007

Moved on from Luzy in depressing rain but along lovely roads: D981 west out of Luzy, then a right along the much smaller D289 to Sémelay. Our destination was Onlay to the north-west. Had a delicious lunch at the Clos de la Bussière restaurant in Sémelay: “roti de porc” in red wine, “coq au vin”, an entrée of Quiche Lorraine with good-sized chunks of bacon. Our wine was a very good one-litre “pichet” (carafe) of Rioussat, a “vin de pays de la Nièvre”, though lunch was not cheap at €17. After lunch we continued north along an un-numbered road through Le Vernay, to join the D985 to St. Honoré-les-Bains. From there we went northeast along the D157 to Onlay under a relentless “crachin”, or drizzle.

We rolled into Onlay at about 16.45, having covered just over 33km, and ready to get out of the rain. Luckily we found a “gite rural” called “L’Père Jean”, owned by a man who raises snails, some of which we had for dinner. The snails are Helix aspersa maxima, from which we get the word “heliciculture”, or practice of raising snails for food. They are raised on sloping wooden planks put together in an “A” arrangement. Between the planks is the “mangeoir” or feeding trough filled with cereals containing 30 per cent calcium, to aid snail growth and reproduction.

Dinner consisted among other things of a delicious “fricassée d’escargots” (snails). But the “vin du pays de l’Hérault” was not so good. A disappointing fact about the Morvan was that, though the Burgundy wine region was close by, our table wine tended to be from elsewhere in France. Burgundy wine came at a price.

Ride data: Tot. km: 33.29; Time: 2h 37 min 53 sec; Av. Km/h: 12.6; Max km/h 41.5

Day 4 - Thur 23 Aug 2007
From Onlay north via Château-Chinon to Ouroux-en-Morvan under further relentless rain! The excellent lunch we had at Château-Chinon at “La Brasserie de l’Agriculture” was some compensation, including as it did “jambon au Madère” – ham cooked in madeira. After lunch we pedalled north-west along the D37 to Corancy, then turning left, and north, along the white D12 to Chaumard, then D303 and D301 to Ouroux. The road crosses the Pannecière-Chaumard reservoir, created in 1949 to control the floodwaters of the Yonne River and generate electricity.

My diary mentions “pissing rain” all the way to Ouroux, a ride distance of 40 km, a slight improvement over the previous day. After some false starts we were lucky enough to find a Dutch-run “gite d’étape” into which we thankfully settled.

A “gite d’étape” can be anything from a basic hostel, with camp beds in dormitory accommodation, to a cosy bed-and-breakfast. The “Ambiance Morvan” was definitely the latter. The Gite was a rambling former farmhouse near the centre of the village. After settling in, with bikes stashed in an outhouse, we sat down with the other guests to an excellent dinner of courgette soup and “coq au vin”, a Burgundian speciality. The guests were all Dutch and included a couple of Citroen Traction enthusiasts – with immaculately-preserved cars to prove it.

A vintage Citroen Light Fifteen

Ride data: Tot. km: 40.6; Time: 3h 23 min 42 sec; Av. Km/h: 11.9; Max km/h 43.0

The Dutch In The Morvan
You can’t spend long in the Morvan without noticing the high number of Dutch-registered cars, whether on the roads or standing in front of attractively restored houses. When asked what attracts them to the area, the Dutch themselves list the relatively short driving time from Holland (six hours from Amsterdam), with affordable housing (prices are half those of Holland) and last but by no means least, the exceptionally friendly local people.

Day 5 - Fri 24 Aug 2007
Today’s ride of just over 53 km took us to the cathedral town of Vézelay in much improved weather. We continued north along the smallest roads we could find, along D171, crossing the D977bis east-west road, and carrying on to Brassy. A somewhat expensive lunch (menu at €17) at the Barrage de Chaumeçon, another of the artificial lakes frequently found in this area. Twisted up through the Bois de St.Martin to route D944 at Chastellux-sur-Cure. Continued north to the crossroads with the main D20 highway running east-west from Saulieu to Vézelay. Turned left towards Vézelay. This is a fast road but with light traffic. The terrain is undulating, with some steep climbs up from the Chaumeçon reservoir, and another on final approach to Vézelay. Fortunately the hamlet of St.Père, at the foot of the hill up to Vézelay, produced a couple of delicious glasses of cider to fortify us for the climb.

Vézelay dates back to the ninth century and was originally the site of a Benedictine convent. It’s built on a ridge of hills and its main street runs along the crest of this ridge, culminating in the cathedral at the ridge’s highest point. We stayed at a camp site / hostel on a route to the left as you enter the town, nearly a kilometre away on the edge of the countryside. Dinner included a tasty “boeuf bourgignon” followed by a “poire Williams”, a liqueur distilled from pears. Prices in touristy Vézelay are higher than in elsewhere in the region. However the campsite hostel, which was clean and pleasant, was only €22 for the two of us for one night. We even managed to wash our clothes, though they were not entirely dry by the next morning.

Ride data: Tot. km: 53.08; Time: 3h 32 min 58 sec; Av. Km/h: 15.0; Max km/h 50.5

Day 6 - Sat 25 Aug 2007
Today was bright and sunny, with a huge bank of white cloud separating Vézelay from the valley floor a few hundred metres below us. We tidied up our hotel dorm, with the Belgian who had joined us late the previous night, and who was a pilgrim on his way to Santiago de Compostela. After an expensive breakfast at one of the hotels – 19 euro for two! – we went uptown to look at the Basilica. Its most impressive features were the banded arches in the nave, reminiscent of the mosque in Cordoba, and the gargoyles outside, lining the eaves.

Leaving town, we headed rapidly downhill via St. Père to route D36 past Usy towards Quarré-les-Tombes. However, since we didn’t leave Vézelay until midday, we did not reach Quarré, and our first opportunity for lunch, until 2.30. Julian said that lunch at such a time was, culturally and organisationally, an impossibility in this part of France. However, on the basis of “you don’t ask, you don’t get to know”, I enquired at the imposing Hotel du Nord and to my surprise was offered “blanquette de veau avec riz” as the only hot dish left. We accepted gladly. The meal for two plus good local wine, a “plateau de fromage” and a glass of Grand Marnier at the end, cost 70 euros for two.

On towards Trinquelin along D355. Owing to poor navigation we failed to get to the intriguingly-named Abbaye de la Pierre-qui-vire, or Abbey of the Turning Stone. However, we met pilgrims and Scouts headed for the abbey along our road, and then a path through the forests. Having set out towards St. Léger-Vauban, birthplace of the celebrated military engineer, we turned back to Trinquelin and then along another route to the lake of St. Agnan. Here we had welcome refreshments at a British-run campsite on the lake. Thereafter we had an easy ride along the D106 to Champeau-en-Morvan and then Saulieu.

Saulieu was clearly a somewhat upmarket town, although still some way from the great vineyards of Burgundy. There was no obvious ‘gite’ or other hostel, so we stayed, after some searching, at the 2-star Hotel du Nord on the edge of town. From its appearance, this may have been a hotel from olden times. Seventy euros got us a double room; we had a very pleasant dinner of salmon with ragout and an “estouffade de boeuf bourguignon” (Burgundy-style beef stew). The whole place seemed to be run by just one man acting as waiter and grill chef, using an open fire. The service was very efficient.

After dinner, the only place open for a “digestivo” or “pousse-café” was a bar run by a Harley-Davidson fan. There was the usual collection of mock-low-life smokers and boozers – all very quiet and pleasant.

Ride data: Tot. km: 59.69; Time: 4h 47 min 17 sec; Av. Km/h: 12.4; Max km/h 42.5. The longest day of our trip.

Day 7 - Sun 26 Aug 2007

Saw the sights of Saulieu which included the basilica, with some interesting carvings on the capitals of the interior columns in the nave. There was also the Musée François Pompon, dedicated to an animal sculptor of the same name. Had an early lunch in Saulieu opposite the cathedral before setting off.

Our route took us south by southwest towards Alligny-en-Morvan in the heart of the Morvan Regional Park. At Alligny we stopped at an excellent bar-hotel, the “Auberge du Morvan” and were served a delicious “Bolée d’Armorique” cider. From Alligny we freewheeled down the Vallée du Ternin, one of the best rides of the trip: attractive landscape, gentle gradient and few cars. At Chissey-en-Morvan we turned right to Ruiselle, Cussy-en-Morvan and over the hills to Anost via Montanet. Failing to find a “gite” in Anost, we continued over the mountains, with their monuments to World War II “maquisard” activity, to Arleuf, where we stayed at a Franco-British-run roadhouse.

Ride data: Tot. km: 50.08; Time: 3h 34 min 26 sec; Av. Km/h: 14.0; Max km/h 50.5

Day 8 – Mon 27 Aug 2007
Another day of excellent weather, a welcome contrast to the beginning of the trip. Beautiful routes as well, especially when they went downhill. Today we headed south from Arleuf through the St. Prix Forest to Glux-en-Glenne. But at both Glux and St. Prix the restaurants were closed on Mondays – a common problem in this region. However at St. Léger-sous-Beuvray we had an excellent lunch which included ham in a sauce and pasta.

Had a siesta till 4.30 and then headed northeast along the D3 towards La Grande Verrière, turning right to go past the Chateau de Vauteau. It was a beautiful ride with an inexhaustible supply of wild blackberries. It was perfect weather, if anything becoming a bit hot and humid as we descended into the broad Arroux Valley.

Continued to Monthelon, then to join the main D981 route for a four-kilometre sprint to our next destination, Autun, somewhat larger than most of the towns we’d visited. It’s on the north side of a thickly forested hill, and its Cathedral can be seen from a long way off. A very brief search found us a room at the Hotel Grand-Café, at € 35.

Ride data: Tot. km: 44.21; Time: 3h 0 min 35 sec; Av. Km/h: 14.7; Max km/h 47.5

Day 9 – Tues 28 Aug 2007
Our planned route was to Montchanin-les-Mines through the forests via Mesvres, St. Symphorien and Charmoy. The ride up through the historic city of Autun and into the hills was extremely steep – not the best way to start the morning. The first landmark was the “Croix de la Libération”, commemorating the liberation in 1945 of this part of France. The landscapes were typical of the area: green and lush, a testimony to the high rainfall, which we didn’t experience on this last day.

Our destination was that standby of business travellers, the “Formule 1” hotel at Ecuisses, near the main road and in pole position for the access road to the TGV station at Le Creusot – we were booked onto a 7 a.m. train straight to Avignon, so we needed to get to the station with a minimum of effort. Had quite a pleasant dinner in a nondescript concrete building with a fine view over a stream.

Ride data: Tot. km: 51.74; Time: 3h 49 min 58 sec; Av. Km/h: 13.5; Max km/h 49.0

Day 10 – Wed 29 Aug 2007
Up very early to get to the station. It was a raw, dank morning with just a hint of autumn in it. Made it to the TGV station with plenty of time to spare, having not got lost as we had feared. The train came in dead on time as usual, we loaded our bikes into their special compartment (other European rail networks take note) and settled down into our seats just forward of the bikes.

Three hours later we got off at Avignon and headed for our car, eager to be off home to the Lubéron. However an unpleasant surprise was in store for us. The car was by no means as we had left it: someone had tried to steal it by bypassing the electronic security system with a circuit board of their own. Evidently the thieves had been interrupted, for they had scarpered and left their circuit board behind. But the car was unusable; we had to call the main Renault garage in Avignon, and after a while they came out to the TGV station with a tow truck. We spent some time at the garage discovering what was wrong and how long it would take to fix it. Since the car was to take some time to be fixed, we were given a ride back to the Lubéron by the garage. Thus our 2007 ride ended on a sombre note.

Postscript

From the ride stats it will be seen that we weren’t about to break any records. Our bikes were sturdy hybrids with fairly large tyres and low gearing to cope with the hills. We succeeded in keeping luggage light: I had two Karrimor rear panniers with five kilos in each.

Rain was a serious problem at the start of the trip, but by Day Four we were enjoying reasonable weather for this part of France. I packed a cycling cape which has proved invaluable on several trips, and rolls up into a smallish ball. As for clothes, I had three sets of cycling sweatshirts and shorts, as well as a light jacket and water- and wind-proof coat. We had a basic tool kit, but in the event did not have to fix so much as a puncture.

Thanks for reading this! More embellishments very soon!

- Mike

Favourite Rides In Lazio: The Pianura Pontina

2007-10-30T11:33:00.000+01:00

Rome’s Stazione Termini, 10.30 Sunday morning. It’s the last Sunday in October and we have all remembered to sleep an hour extra. The autumn morning is brilliant and we assemble by the ticket dispensers just inside the entrance to the station. Our destination is Latina, a modern town just over 70 km south of the capital, and on the way to Naples.

Stazione Termini, Roma, domenica alle 10.30. E l’ultima domenica del mese e ci siamo ricordati di rimanere a letto per un’ora di più. La mattinata è piena di sole, ci raduniamo vicino ai distributori di biglietti all’ingresso della stazione. Destinazione: Latina, una città moderna a 70 km al sud della capitale.

Triple A: Aldo, Alessandra and Ambra inspect the bikes.
Buying tickets can be done the easy way or the hard way. The hard way is to join the painfully slow queue in the main hall. The easy way is to use the ticket dispensers. The touch screens take you to all the schedules and you can also buy the €3.60 bike carriage supplement. The system is well designed, although not all the machines take cash, preferring credit or Bancomat cards.

Per comprare I biglietti, c’è il modo duro e il modo semplice. Il modo duro comporta una fila interminabile in biglietteria. Per il modo semplice, basta utilizzare i distributori automatici con i loro schermi toccabili, dove si può anche acquistare i supplementi per trasporto bici. L’inconveniente è che spesso accettano solo carte a credito o bancomat.

To Platform 7 where the Regionale Train no. 2391 to Napoli Centrale is about to leave. The bike car is up at the front, right behind the driver’s cab. There is plenty of space for our nine bicycles, but no hooks to hang them up. The train staff, including the driver, help us stow the bikes safely.

Al binario 7 ci aspetta il treno regionale no. 2391, destinazione Napoli Centrale. Il vagone bici è in testa. C’è spazio abbondante per le nostre nove bici ma non ci sono i ganci. Il personale di bordo, anche il macchinista, ci aiuta a sistemare le nostre bici.

The train leaves on time at 10.50. Thirty-five minutes later we alight at Latina Scalo, which is about 8 km from Latina itself. To the east, the foothills of the Apennines rise steeply to over a thousand metres. To the west, there’s a flat plain as far as the sea.

Il treno parte in orario alle 10.50. Dopo trentacinque minuti scendiamo a Latina Scalo che dista 8 km da Latina stessa. All’est sorgono gli Apennini che raggiungono, quasi immediatamente, una quota di mille metri. All’ovest si estende, fino al mare, una vasta pianura.

Turning off the main road to something quieter.
This plain was known until just after World War I as the “Paludi Pontine”, or Pontine Marshes, and was a largely uninhabitable, mosquito-infested malarial swamp. Major efforts by the government of the time resulted in the draining of the marshes and their settlement by farmers drafted in from the north-eastern Veneto region, at that time one of the poorest in Italy. Today the marshes have gone, to be replaced by neat fields on which vegetables, fruit and wine are grown, drained by long rectilinear channels, which attract a variety of wild life. You can still see some of the original settlers’ houses, which, with the land, were leased by the O.N.C. or Organizzazione Nazionale dei Combattenti. The objective was to reward some of the soldiers who had fought in the First World War. These houses can be distinguished by the letters O.N.C. followed by a number. Many of them have now been abandoned or replaced by modern villas.

Questa Pianura Pontina era fino a dopo la 1a Guerra mondiale une palude infestata di zanzare dove regnava la malaria, reducendo la vita media degli abitanti a soli 40 anni. Il governo di dopoguerra ha lanciato un vasto programma di bonifica, che ha risultato in una pianura rigogliosa dove si coltivano verdure, frutta e vigne. Coloni veneti sono arrivati per creare insediamenti ed aziende agricole. Gli furono dati case e terre; il tutto era organizzato dal’’Organizzazione Nazionale dei Combattenti, così per premiare reduce della guerra. Queste case si riconoscono per il sigla O.N.C. seguito da un numero. Ma spesso sono semi-abbandonate se non sostituite da ville moderne.

Olives near Latina.
We set off towards the coast along roads which crisscross this area in dead straight lines. There are two major routes through the area: the Via Appia (Highway 7) and the Via Pontina, both of which cyclists should avoid. Fortunately it’s possible to find quiet byroads with the aid of the local provincial map, but our best asset is cycling companion Romano Puglisi, author of two volumes on cycling in Lazio: “Treno + bici nel Lazio”.

Harvesting olives on the Pianura Pontina.
Ci avviamo lungo le strade rettilinee che attraversono questa zona, spesso accanto ai canali di drenaggio costruiti durante la bonifica. Due grandi strade attraversono la pianura: la Via Appia (SS7) e la Pontina (SS148). Entrambe sono da evitare per i ciclisti. Fortunatamente si torvano strade poco trafficate con l’aituo della Carta della Provincia di Latina all’150.000.mo, ma la guida più affidabile in assoluto è il nostro compagno Romano Puglisi, autore della guida “Treno + bici nel Lazio”, pubblicata in due volumi.

Traversing the Pontine Plain
We pedal through the small settlements that dot the plain: Tor Tre Ponti, Borgo San Michele, Borgo Grappa. This last reminds us of the area’s Venetian connections, as ‘grappa’, the spirit distilled from grape skins, is the staple tipple of the Veneto. After about 90 minutes we reach the Rio Martino, or Martino Creek, which provides a seaward outlet for the Pontine drainage system. Here, close to the sea, the creek is wide enough to accommodate a fleet of small fishing and pleasure craft. Fishermen, presumably from Bulgaria to judge by their car licence plates, sit on the banks. The creek attracts ducks, coots and moorhens, while in the evenings the “nutria” or coypu can be seen: this is a large grey rodent of North American origin that has made its home in the Pontine Plain’s canals.

A drainage channel on the Pontine Plain
Attraversiamo I vari insediamenti che si trovano sulla nostra strada: Tor Tre Ponti, Borgo San Michele, Borgo Grappa; quest’ultimo ricorda le origine venete dei coloni. Dopo 90 minuti arriviamo al Rio Martino, che fa parte del sistema di drenaggio e che sbocca al mare; è tanto largo da ospitare una flotta di piccoli pescherecci e barche di turismo. Pescatori di origine bulgara se si tiene conto delle targhe bulgare sulle macchine parcheggiate lungo la strada, sono seduti sulle rive. Il canale attira qualche uccelli aquatici nonché la “nutria”, un grosso roditore grigio di origine nord-americane che abita lungo le rive e che si fa vedere al tramonto.

A fine Heron checks out the fish in a drainage channel.
We keep to the southern side of the creek, on the opposite bank to the ruins of the Torre Fogliano. The road peters out into a sandy parking lot by the sea. Until 1995 it continued south along the coast in the direction of the Circeo massif, but the dunes proved too much for the road and the highways authority, despairing of being able to maintain it, blocked access to motor traffic. It is now popular with walkers and joggers. Cyclists have a hard time of it owing to the sandy stretches that defeat all but the hardiest of mountain bikers.

Fishermen by the Rio Martino creek.

Rimaniamo sulla riva sud e seguiamo la strada fino al mare; si termina in una specie di parcheggio. Fino al 1995 la strada continuava lungo il mare ma le dune, invadendo man mano l’asfalta, hanno provocato la chiusura della strada al traffico motorizzato per le difficoltà di manutenzione. Adesso è aperta ai soli pedoni e ciclisti. Quest’ultimi però, hanno una vita dura per la sabbia sulla sagoma, che rende obbligatorio il passaggio a piedi, salvo per alcune mountain bike.

By the beach at the end of the Rio Martino creek

This eight-kilometre stretch provides great views over the sandy beach, almost deserted this last Sunday in October. To the north you can just make out the white villas and apartment buildings of Lido di Latina. To the south rises the 540-metre-high bulk of Monte Circeo, home of the legendary siren, and today covered in cloud.

Skirting a landslip on the coastal path near the Circeo National Park

Questa strada lunga otto chilometri dà sul mare permettendoci panorame eccezionali su una spiaggia quasi diserta a fine ottobre. Verso nord si vedono le case bianche di Lido di Latina; vesro sud si intravede il massiccio del Circeo, oggi velato dalle nuvole.

The beach!

We leave our bikes leaning against some rickety fencing by the roadside and rush down to the beach, where two of our group strip off and plunge into the sea. The water is bracing but not uncomfortable, and by now it’s squeaky-clean, very different from August. The rest of the group spread cycling jackets on the dark sand and munch on their sandwiches.

Picnic on the beach

Lasciamo le bici appoggiate ad una ringhiera fragile in legno e scendiamo al mare. Due dei nostri, i più coraggiosi, si spogliano e si lanciano al mare. L’acqua e freddina ma non troppo scomoda. Sopratutto è limpida, a differenza dell’alta stagione. Gli altri del gruppo mettano giacche sulla sabbia scura e mangiano il loro pranzo a sacco.

Heading south towards Circeo

All too soon, given the shortened day, it’s time to move on and we halt for refreshments at the sprawling restaurant at the southern end of the coastal path. This is a good place for fish dishes or more modest “medaglioni” (medallions – round sandwiches with ham or cheese), or possibly home-made puddings and a glass of “limoncello”.

Checking the route

Troppo presto – dato che ormai la giornata è sensibilmente più corta - è l’ora di muoverci. Ci fermiamo al ristorante che si estende alla parte sud della stradina: si mangia pesce grigliato e frutta di mare, oppure sempici “medaglioni” e dolci, magari accompagnate di un bicchiere di limoncello.

At a crossroads

Our route continues south towards the Circeo; by now we’re sharing the road with light to moderate traffic. We go almost as far as Sabaudia, the town the Fascists built in 149 days, but just before reaching it we turn inland towards the Circeo National Park. A long straight road takes us to the edge of a huge, gloomy forest. Here we turn left along the rather fast “Via Litoranea”, seeking the entrance to the National Park, which we find at Capo d’Olmo.

Entering the Circeo National Park

Proseguiamo sulla litoranea verso il Circeo; il traffico si fa presente ma non è troppo invadente. Andiamo quasi fino a Sabaudia, la città costruita in soli 149 giorni all’epoca fascista; ma poco prima giriamo a sinistra verso l’entroterra e il Parco Nazionale del Circeo. Dopo alcuni chilometri di strada da rettifilo arriviamo all’ingresso del parco, di cui l’attraversamento è riservato ai pedoni e ciclisti.

Unfortunately, one of our group, on her mountain bike, discovers that her rear tyre is down. It’s an unexpectedly difficult repair job: we pump up Alessandra’s tyre only to have the rubber around the valve split, the tyre deflating with a loud hiss. The first inner-tube replacement has its valve blow out on an attempt to pump up the tyre; fortunately the second replacement works.

Emergency repairs at the entrance to the National Park

Purtroppo una dei nostri scopre che il pneumatico posteriore è sgonfio. I nostri tentativi di rigonfiarlo finiscono alla spaccatura della gomma intorno alla valvola; nella prima camera di scorta si rompe la valvola stessa; fortunatamente la seconda camera funziona.

By this time half our group has gone ahead, not to be seen again that day. We enter the forest, which is reserved for walkers and cyclists. There’s a visitor centre half way along, at La Madonnella, after which we continue straight ahead. In the distance a deer, which I take to be a large dog ambling along the track, suddenly becomes aware of the group of riders heading for it, and darts into the forest. Dusk is a good time to see these animals, and if you’re lucky you might see a fox or a wild boar. There is, in fact, an enclosure of boar at the visitor centre.

Però gli altri del gruppo si sono allontanati e non gli rivediamo più. Attraversiamo la foresta dove, al tramonto, si può vedere cinghiali e cervi, nonché qualche volpe. Vedo un’animale che prendo per un grande cane ma che, in realtà, è un cervo che, vedendo i ciclisti, si rifugia nella foresta. A metà strada, a La Madonnella, c’è un centro per i visitatori con una recinta che ospita alcuni cinghiali.

Exiting the forest at Cantina Cerasella, we cross the Pontina highway no. 148 heading for the hills and the still-distant station of Sezze Romano. It’s six o’clock and nearly dark. Owls can be heard calling in nearby woods, while from overhead come the science-fictionesque squeaks of bats. Romano Puglisi’s unerring navigation takes us through the maze of lanes between the Via Appia (highway 7) and Sezze Scalo. Sezze itself is perched on a steep hill overlooking the plain, and is reached along a tortuous hairpin road. An endless procession of cars moves up and down it, looking like Space Invaders.

Lasciamo il Parco alla Cantina Cerasella ed attraversiamo la Pontina. Andiamo verso le montagne e la stazione di Sezze Romano. Sono le sei di sera ed è quasi buio. Sentiamo le civette e dall’alto, gli scricchioli quasi ultrasonici dei pipistrelli in cerca di insetti. La navigazione precisa di Romano Puglisi ci guida attraverso un labirinto di stradine tra la Via Appia e la stazione di Sezze. Sezze stessa è situata su una collina che domina la pianura ed è raggiungibile lungo una strada piena di tornanti a gomito. Le macchine, numerosissime, che salgono e scendo continuamente appaiono, con le loro luci, come veicoli da qualche videogioco.

On arrival at Sezze Station, we find we have twenty minutes to wait, so we down a couple of beers at a friendly nearby bar. The train is very crowded: it’s full of commuters on the Sunday evening trundle back to Rome from Naples. We stand all the way, but this time get to hang our bikes up on proper hooks. A fine day out, with 66 kilometres covered under a cloudless sky. We’ll be back.

Arrivati a Sezze, c’è una’attesa di mezz’ora per il nostril treno delle 19.20 e ci ne approfittiamo per prendere una birra ad un bar vicino. Il treno ha un vagone attrezzato di ganci per le nostre bici, ma è superaffollato dai pendolari che, la domenica sera, tornano a Roma da Napoli. Una nuova settimana lavorativa incomincia. Abbiamo fatto 66 bellissimi chilometri sotto un cielo limpido. Torneremo.

Returning to Rome

Data sheet / Informazioni pratiche

Trains from Rome to Latina:
All regional trains take bikes on payment of a €3.50 supplement.
Check

www.trenitalia.com for times, which vary.

Map: Carta della Provincia di Latina, scale 1:150.000. Published by Litografia Artistica Cartografica, Firenze.

Restaurant: “Le Sirene” at the southern end of the sandy track that leads down the coast from Rio Martino. Tel. 0773 534 108. May be open on Sundays during the winter.

Coming Soon: A Short Ride In The Morvan Region of France.

Across Abruzzo/Attraverso l'Abruzzo part 2

2007-08-04T23:56:00.000+02:00

Day 2: 1 July 2007

Our bikes, lined up along the fence at the Rifugio. It was unnecessary to chain them up.

Le nostre bici, parcheggiati al Rifugio. Non era necessario l'uso del antifurto.

A quiet night’s sleep, in the comfortable dormitories of the Rifugio del Diavolo, saw us ready and refreshed for today’s 82 km ride to Pescasseroli, the pass known as the Forca d’Acero and thence to the train station at Roccasecca, just north of Cassino. Unfortunately two of our team, having suffered considerably from the heat on the way up to the Passo del Diavolo the previous afternoon, were disinclined to attempt the Forca d’Acero and decided to return to Celano and the train back to Rome. They could not have known that the road up to the Forca passed through extensive forests and was therefore shady.

Alessandra getting ready to go.

Dopo una notte tranquilla di sonno ininterrotto nei dormitori del Rifugio del Diavolo, ci siamo preparati per il tragitto di 82 km verso Roccasecca, passando per Pescasseroli e il passo della Forca D’Acero. Purtroppo due dei nostri, dopo la salita difficile del giorno precedente, hanno deciso di tornare indietro verso Celano e il treno per Roma. Non potevano sapere che la salita verso la Forca passava, in effetti, per una foresta ombragiosa e quindi al riparo del calore schiacciante.

Al Rifugio: l'incontro per la partenza

After breakfast we said our goodbyes and drifted down the road to Pescasseroli, a comfortable 11 km away along a downhill slope. Pescasseroli is a picturesque Abruzzo market town of antique origins with an attractive “centro storico” or historic centre. We saw the birthplace of the celebrated Neapolitan philosopher and historian Benedetto Croce, author of ‘La Storia del Regno di Napoli’ (History of the Kingdom of Naples). We were in time to see a procession of veterans from the “Alpini” regiment, laying to rest the remains of an Alpine trooper killed in Bari during World War II and only now brought back to his home town for burial.

A typical track through the Abruzzo National Park.

Dopo una piacevole prima colazione ci siamo salutati per poi iniziare una tranquillissima discesa di 11 km verso Pescasseroli. A Pescasseroli, una cittadina pittoresca nel cuore dell’Abruzzo, abbiamo visto il palazzo dove nacque il celebre filosofo e storico napoletano, Benedetto Croce, autore, tra altre opere, di “La Storia del Regno di Napoli”. Inoltre vedemmo la cerimonia degli alpinisti che si sono riuniti in chiesa per accogliere i resti di uno di loro, caduto a Bari durante la seconda guerra mondiale. Solo adesso i suoi resti sono tornati al suo paese natale.

Pescasséroli: The house where the Neapolitan philosopher and historian Benedetto Croce was born.

After a second breakfast at an outside café, it was time to move on. The weather was idyllic – warm and sunny – but promised to be hot on the climb up to the Forca D’Acero pass, some 15 km away. Fortunately, as already noted, the road passes through dense forest so there was plenty of shade. We did not, alas, have time to visit another noted attraction of Pescasseroli: the Wolf Sanctuary, dedicated to ‘Canis lupus apenninicus’, which, along with the bear, is another resident of the National Park, and equally heavily protected by law.

Pescasséroli: typical house

Dopo una seconda colazione ad un café all’aria aperta, era l’ora di riprendere la strada. Le condizioni meteorologiche erano ideale, con sole ed un caldo non esagerato. Da temere era la possibilità di un caldo eccessivo per la salita verso la Forca, ma, in effetti, la strada passava per la foresta come già notato. Purtroppo non abbiamo avuto il tempo di visitare un altro luogo turistico di Pescasseroli: il Santuario dei Lupi, che, some gli orsi, sono superprotetti.

Veterans from an Army Alpine regiment march through Pescasséroli.

The road wound its way up through the forest towards the pass. We left behind us the little town of Opi, perched on its rock. The forests provided ample shade and we experienced none of the weariness of the day before, partly because it was still morning, which is the best time of the day for major climbs.

Storing hay near the village of Opi, in Abruzzo.

La strada, per una serie di grandi tornanti, saliva verso il passo. Abbiamo oltrepassato il paese di Opi situato sulla sua roccia. Affrontando la salita di mattina, abbiamo evitato il calore e la fatica della giornata precedente.

The hill village of Opi, in Abruzzo.

By lunch time we were at the Forca D’Acero, named after a species of tree, the sycamore, which grows abundantly in the mountains.The name of the pass has somewhat sinister overtones, suggesting that at one time a sycamore tree growing there was used as a gallows. It was a good moment to reach the pass, as there was a restaurant at the top serving pizza, pasta and local dishes of stewed wild boar, ‘porchetta’ (roast salted pork), grilled lamb and other specialities. We sat down to a well deserved and reasonably cheap lunch at about €12 each. This particular locality is known for its semi-tame foxes which will, if you’re lucky, come out of the woods to do the rounds of the tables for tourist handouts.

Alessandra and Aldo on the climb up to the Forca D'Acero pass.

Siamo arrivati alla Forca d’Acero per l’ora di pranzo. Ottimo il momento: c’è un ristorante che serve piatti tipici quali pasta al cinghiale, pizza, cinghiale stufato e porchetta, accompagnati dai soliti vini tipo ‘Montepulciano d’Abruzzo’, e le birre. I costi, a qualche €12 a testa, sono contenuti. In questo posto, le volpi, ogni tanto, escono dalle foreste circostanti per farsi nutrire dai turisti.

Arrival at the pass of the Forca D'Acero

Lunch over, it was time to press on down the other side of the mountains in the direction of Roccasecca, still over 50 km away. The going was decidedly downhill – indeed, it often felt and looked as though we were stepping off a giant stair from the mountain onto the plain below. At such times a cyclist becomes mildly anxious about the state of the brakes. We were certainly glad that we had chosen to do the route from east to west through the Abruzzo and not the other way round. The road described a series of huge loops as it descended towards the plain. Every loop offered fantastic scenery.

Coming down the mountain: the first hairpin bend.

Terminato il pranzo , era l’ora di riprendere la strada e scendere dalle montagne. I fianchi delle montagne sono talmente ripidi che si ha l’impressioni di scendere un’enorme gradone, dalla montagna alla pianura. E il momento di chiedersi se i freni ce la faranno. La strada prosegue in una serie di tornanti larghi ed ogni tornanti offre un’occasione per ammirare i paesaggi. Purtroppo si vedeva che senz’alcun dubbio il tempo stava per cambiare.

Mike Ivy and Aldo Bises at a rest stop.

Unfortunately this was the moment at which the weather decided to break. For some time heavy clouds gathered on the summits and an hour into our journey they delivered their promise of heavy rain – indeed hail. The others had got ahead. I was caught out in the countryside and had to shelter under a large tree. However, the rain lasted under half an hour and I was able to catch up at the next village.

Storm clouds gather over the Abruzzo.

Infatti I cielo si è aperto per depositare una quantità impressionante di acqua e addirittura grandine su di noi; sono stato costretto di cercare riparo sotto un’albero mentre glia altri avevano già raggiunto un paese. Dopo poco più di una mezz’ora, però, potevamo proseguire la strada verso Casalvieri.

Porcupine quills by the side of the road to Roccasecca. Hystrix cristata, a native of Africa, is thought to have been introduced to central Italy by the Romans.

At the foot of the mountains we chose the road to Casalvieri and Roccasecca rather than the alternative route via Atina to Cassino. The former takes you through a narrow defile in the thickly wooded hills and is much more scenic as well as being relatively free of traffic. From Castelvieri it is an easy run through to Roccasecca with no serious climbs, and we easily made it to the station with ample time for refreshments before catching the 19.30 train back to Rome.

The road through the gorges from Casalvieri to Roccasecca, near Cassino.

Raggiunto il piede delle montagne, si poteva scegliere tra la strade per Atina e Cassino e quella per Casalvieri e Roccasecca; quest’ultima è di gran lungo più tranquillo e offre paesaggi stupendi lungo il suo percorso per le gole. Inoltre non ci sono dislivelli preoccupanti. Siamo arrivati alla stazione di Roccasecca ben in anticipo della partenza del treno per Roma alle 19:30, il che ci ha permesso di rinfrescarci al bar.

Waiting for the train to Roma at Roccasecca.

Scheda tecnica/Ride summary

Distance from Rifugio del Diavolo to Roccasecca: 80km

Time: about 3 hours total on bikes; departure Rifugio del Diavolo around 10.00, arrival at Roccasecca around 18.45, with stops at Pescasseroli and Forca D’Acero.
Tempo impegnato: 3 ore circa in sella, partenza Rigugio del Diavolo alle 10, arrivo staz. Roccasecca alle 18.45, con soste a Pescasseroli e Forca D’Acero

Roads: not too much traffic except around Pescasseroli
Strade: non eccessivamente trafficate salvo nella vicinanza di Pescasseroli

Across the Abruzzo, part 1/Attraverso Abruzzo, puntato 1

2007-07-26T19:14:00.000+02:00

Weekend of 30 June - 1 July 2007. Day 1: Saturday

Panic seized me as I read the sign, “Serenissima”. With only a few minutes to go, I realised I should be one stop back up the line at the “Prenestina” station, to catch the train that was about to trundle south out of Rome’s Tiburtina station to take me into the heart of the Apennines.

La Squadra: left to right: Aldo, Mike, Alessandra, Theresa, Phil.
Il panico mi ha colpito nel momento in cui ho letto l’insegno, “Serenissima”. Non certo era quel che cercavo: mancava pochi minuti all’appuntamento ala stazione ‘Prenestina’ con il treno delle 11.30 da Roma Tiburtina a Pescara, che mi doveva portare al cuore dell’Abruzzo.

I whirled my laden bicycle round and raced north up Via Prenestina, one of Rome’s ‘Consular’ roads which leads southeast out of the city from Porta Maggiore and loses itself in the mountains somewhere beyond Palestrina. Within Rome, Prenestina is a long, wide street lined for the most part with undistinguished apartment buildings, supermarkets and filling stations. I had to ask for directions to reach the Prenestina station, fortunately with some minutes to spare.

Alessandra at Celano Station
Sulla mia bici carica di borsoni da viaggio, sono tornato indietro pedalando di corsa lungo la Via Predestina verso il centro. La Via Prenestina è una delle strade consolare che va fuori Roma verso sud-est e si perde tra le montagne dietro a Palestrina ed Anagni. In città, però, è una via di anonimi palazzi, stazioni di servizio e centri commerciali. E senza indicazione per la stazione: ho dovuto chiedere direzioni da alcuni passanti prima di raggiungere la stazione omonima.

Two cycling friends were waiting on the platform and in a very few minutes the train arrived, with another two cyclists who had boarded at Tiburtina. We stowed our bikes in the front car as best we could as there were no hooks from which to suspend them.

Due compagni ciclisti mi aspettavano sul binario 3; il treno è arrivato dopo pochi minuti con altri due ciclisti che erano saliti a Tiburtina. Sistemmo le bici come potevamo nel vagone anteriore riservato per bici anche se mancavano le apposite ganci.

Celano: the Torlonia Castle
We were bound for the Abruzzo town of Celano, on the edge of the Sirente range in the centre of the Abruzzo region. This is mostly high mountains apart from one odd feature: the Conca del Fucino, or Fucino Basin. Formerly a swampy lake, it was drained and improved by the powerful Torlonia family who once owned much of the area, and the lake became an intensively farmed plain, which it remains this day.

Crossing the Fucino Basin
Andavamo al paese abruzzese di Celano, situato tra il massiccio della Sirente e la pianura del Fucino. La cosiddetta ‘Conca del Fucino’ era, fino a tarde ‘800, una vasta palude che poi è stata bonificata dalla potente famiglia Torlonia che possedeva una gran parte del territorio. Inseguito è diventata una terra fertilissima è rimane tale anche oggi.

The train, from Rome to the Adriatic town of Pescara, snakes up the hills past Tivoli, reached by an incredible series of loops and tunnels, continuing into the heart of the mountains, past Arsoli and Tagliacozzo, levelling out along the flanks of the Sirente range until it reaches Celano, where we got off.

The long climb up from Gioia to the pass
Il treno s’inerpicava verso le montagne, passando per Tivoli lungo una serie incredibile di gallerie e tornanti e continuando verso il cuore delle montagne, per paesi come Arsoli e Tagliacozzo. Siamo scesi a Celano dopo un viaggio di cerca un’ora e mezzo.

It was a hot afternoon. We filled up our bottles at a fountain on the station platform before visiting the bar opposite the station for further refreshments and a careful look at the map. Then we headed circuitously out of Celano. There were, as is usual, no signs to indicate our immediate destination, which was San Benedetto dei Marsi across the Fucino plain.

Faceva caldo. Abbiamo fatto il pieno d’acqua per poi prendere da bere al bar di fronte alla stazione, che ere anche un’occasione per ben studiare la mappa. Il rinfresco terminato, abbiamo lasciato Celano per una strada circuitosa, a causa della mancanza della segnaletica che ci avrebbe indicato il nostro prossimo punto di riferimento, il paese di San Benedetto dei Marsi.

Toiling south across the plain, we could see ahead of us the clump of huge dish antennae indicating the presence of the famous ‘Telespazio’ organisation, the role of which is to conduct research into space communication and monitor satellites, as well as manage ordinary communications for the public. To either side, there were fields of lettuce and other vegetables grown for the Rome market.

Pedalando con fatica attraverso la Conca del Fucino, vedevamo lontano davanti a noi le antenne paraboliche di Telespazio, il centro di ricerca sulle comunicazioni spaziali. Ai nostri fianchi erano estesi i vasti campi di coltivazioni di lattuga ed altre verdure e legumi destinati per i mercati della capitale.

At Gioia dei Marsi (the Marsi were an Italic tribe living in this area before the Roman conquest) we halted for drinks and to take courage for the tough climb ahead: from 703 metres at Gioia dei Marsi to 1378 metres at the “Passo del Diavolo” – the Devil’s Pass – which was our point of entry to the Abruzzo National Park.

Abbiamo raggiunto Gioia de Marsi quasi soltanto grazie ad un posto di blocco dei carabinieri, i quali ci hanno indicati la buona strada nell’assenza di cartelli. Ci siamo fermati a Gioa per un ultimo rinfresco prima di affrontare la salita di 13 km verso il ‘Passo del Diavolo, punto di ingresso al parco naturale dell’Abruzzo.

A 'casa cantoniera', or roadworkers' depot. These buildings, always in regulation Pompeian red, are a common sight on Italian provincial roads.

Some date back to the 1920s.
Drinks downed (an assortment of energy drinks, Gatorade, fruit juice and water, but no beer or cider), we took to the road which fortunately was relatively free of traffic. It was still, however, a long, wearisome climb up a series of loops through some forest, though not enough to give us much shade.

'Ginestra' or broom, adding colour to the hills in late spring.
Fortunatamente la strada era abbastanza poco trafficata, ma la foresta ci offriva poco riparo contro il sole forte del mezzo pomeriggio.

Another view of the long, hot climb
Six in the evening found us at the small settlement at the top of the pass, with the magnificent Abruzzo range all around us. At the roadside was the standard National park sign of a Pooh bear. The Marsican bear (ursus arctus marsicanus) is native to these parts but is seldom seen. Unlike their American cousins, which aren’t shy of people, the Abruzzo bears keep very much to themselves deep in their forests.

In memory of a road accident victim. These memorials are all too common a sight.
Alle sei di pomeriggio ci siamo trovati all’ingresso del Parco. Sul ciglio della strada c’era l’insegna caratteristica del Parco, con l’immagine di un ‘orso Pooh’, come se fosse uscito dalle pagine dei famosi libri per bambini dello scrittore inglese A.A.Milne. Eravamo a 1390 metri di quota.

The Pass at last
The tiny village of a few houses with an abandoned ‘locanda’ or hotel, dominated by a disproportionately large church, wasn’t our final destination. We were to sleep at the Rifugio del Diavolo two kilometres further on. We pedalled thankfully down a gentle gradient until the white hostel with its large gable roof came into view on our right. Ferdinando, the warden, was expecting us as we had miraculously managed to book ahead. This had been no easy task as ‘telefonino’ (mobile) coverage is poor here, and a recent direct lightning strike had fried the fixed phone. This did us, though not the management, a good turn, as we were the only people there. Normally, on such a fine weekend, the place would have been fully booked. Leaning our bikes up against the wooden railing in front of the house (don’t bother locking them, said Fernando) we unpacked, settled down and drank huge quantities of water.

Entering the Abruzzo National Park
Il minuscolo paese di poche case, dominato da un’enorme chiesa, non era la nostra destinazione. Dovevamo effettuare ancora due chilometri per raggiungere il nostro obiettivo, che era il “Rifugio del Diavolo”. Il rifugio è un edificio abbastanza grande con un tetto in stile alpino. Il gestore, Ferdinando, ci aspettava siccome per miracolo avevamo telefonato per prenotare, compito non facilissimo perchè la copertura telefonica cellulare non è delle migliori e il telefono fisso era stata fulminato durante un temporale. Normalmente per i weekend il rifugio è pieno; nel caso, c’erano solo noi. Abbiamo sistemato le bici control la ringhiera di legno (non era, secondo Ferdinando, la pena di attaccarle con gli antifurto), abbiamo tolto i bagagli per poi bere quantità enormi di acqua.

Rest stop at the village by the pass
Before supper, a group of us, on Ferdinando’s suggestion, biked into the hills along a rough track. Bears could occasionally be seen, he said, and a few weeks previously a fine specimen had approached to within a hundred metres of the hostel. We reached a spot on the road that gave us a view across the valley to a large clearing, where bears were said to forage. But we were to be disappointed. However, staying behind after the others had left, I did see a chamois come out of the trees to graze in the clearing, which partly made up for the lack of bears.

The 'Rifugio del Diavolo' or Devil's Mountain Hut
Prima di cenare, seguendo I suggerimenti di Ferdinando, abbiamo pedalato lungo una pista verso le foreste dietro il rifugio. Con un po’ di fortuna potevamo, forse, vedere un esempio del ‘ursus arcticus marsicanus’, l’orso marsicano, che abita certe zone dell’Abruzzo. Un esemplare magnifico si era avvicinato a meno di cento metri dal rifugio poche settimane prima. Ci siamo fermati di fronte ad un burrone oltre il quale c’era un campo in mezzo alla foresta. Ma l’unica animale ad uscire è stato un camoscio che ha pascolato tranquillamente per alcuni minuti.

Aldo Bises with the hostel hound
Back at the hostel, we tucked into a huge dish of home made pasta with vegetables and cheese, and an excellent ‘pollo alla cacciatore’ – chicken stewed with mushrooms, bacon and tomato. A glass of grappa, a spirit made from grape skins, rounded the evening off, and so to a well-deserved bed.

Al rifugio ci aspettava una cena splendida di pasta fatta in casa, con formaggio, pomodori ed altri, inseguito ‘pollo alla cacciatora’. La serata si è terminata con un bicchiere di grappa e poi… ninna, e non troppo presto!

To be continued! Next stop: the picturesque Abruzzo town of Pescasseroli
Segue! Prossima fermata: Pescasseroli

Notes/Scheda tecnica

Distance: 42 km from Celano to the Rifugio del Diavolo

Time: about 3.5 hours, not including stops

Bars: at Celano and Gioia dei Marsi. Take plenty of water with you on the ride. There are no fountains on the route except at the bars. Assicurarsi di un'ottima scorta di acqua. Non vi sono sorgenti sulla strada.

Rifugio del Diavolo:

Phone: 0863/88152

Prices: €40 per person half board as of July 2007. Single, double rooms or dorms available. Book well in advance if possible. Excellent evening meals. Si consiglia la prenotazione anticipata. Ottime le cene.

See also:

The Marsica Mountain Zone

The Abruzzo National Park in Italian and in English

Train times

Maps

Italy

Rome to Celano

From Celano to the Rifugio del Diavolo

(Maps shown here are from Google Maps)

Recommended Map:

Touring Club Italia Abruzzo Region, scale 1:200 000

Tuscany 3-4 June 2007: Riding with Cinghiale Tours

2007-07-09T10:45:00.000+02:00

The Tuscan hill village of Sassetta
The large green dragonfly drew level with me as I pedalled furiously along the Tuscan country road leading to Sassetta, in the south of the region, near the seaside resort of Donoratico. I glanced at my cycle computer, which told me I was doing 20 km/h or just over 12 mph. Suddenly, unbelievably, the insect started pulling ahead of me, until with a flick of its wings it disappeared into an adjacent field. It was a humiliating moment.

Characteristic landscape near Castagneto Carducci, Tuscany
La grande libellula verde mi ha raggiunto, mentre pedalavo lungo la stradina che porta al paese di Sassetta, nel sud della regione toscana non lontano dalla stazione balneare di Donoratico. Il mio ciclocomputer indicava una velocità di 20 km/h. Incredibilmente, l’insetto ha cominciato ad andare avanti e poi, con un colpo di ali, è sparito nell’erba alta del campo adiacente alla strada. E’ stato un momento umiliante.

Bikers meet outside Hotel Zio Martino
The day had started promisingly. I had set out from the rendezvous just below the hill town of Castagneto Carducci, birthplace of the famous poet Giosuè Carducci. There, a large group of American and British cyclists had gathered for a day tour under the guidance of cycling champion Andy Hampsten, winner of the 1988 ‘Giro d’Italia’ and who for several years has organised bicycle tours in Tuscany through his company, Cinghiale [Wild Boar] Tours. We had all set off up the steep hill to Castagneto and onwards towards Sassetto: the tourists on ultra lightweight racing machines, I on my more staid hybrid bicycle. As we climbed, the superiority of the racing bikes began to tell; in addition, they were carrying no luggage, whereas I had a pannier with extra water, basic spare parts and a few tools, as well as a light jacket in case of rain. By the time I reached the top of the hill the rest of the group were well out of sight.

Photo call by Enrico Caracciolo
La giornata era incominciata di maniera promettente. Mi ero fatto trovare al incontro nel parcheggio dell’albergo Zio Martino al piede della collina di Castagneto Carducci, dove si era radunata un grande gruppo di cicloturisti americani e inglesi guidati dal campione Andy Hampsten, vincitore del Giro d’Italia nel 1988. Da tempo Andy organizza gite in bici in Toscana tramite la sua azienda, 'Cinghiale Tours'. L’ora venuta, siamo partiti in modo quasi rilassato, per poi affrontare la salita ripida per Castagneto. I turisti avevano bici da corsa superleggeri e senza bagaglio mentre io ero svantaggiato dalla mia bici ibrida, dalle gomme larghe, e con un bagaglio che conteneva alcuni ferri e pezzi di ricambio, nonché una giacca leggera nel caso in cui ci fosse stato pioggia. Nel giro di pochi minuti i turisti erano spariti, andando avanti verso Sassetta e Suvereto.

Relaxing in Suvereto
Fortunately there were compensations. Once you get up the hill past Castagneto, the road becomes a “corniche”, running level along the flanks of the hill. It continues inland, with fine views over the wooded countryside. There is a further climb up through the forests until you reach the right-hand turn for Sassetta. Then it’s a long, beautiful run down through the forests towards the medieval town of Suvereto, where I caught up with the rest of the group, who had stopped to visit the weekly market. It was also time for much-needed refreshments, including a glass of delicious freshly-squeezed orange juice – the oranges have been particularly good this year.

A Hampsten bike used on the tour. Titanium frame
with special disassembly points to allow the bike
to be folded neatly for air transport. These bikes
are built by Andy Hampsten's brother in Seattle.
Fortunatamente c’erano dei compensi in quanto la strada, all’altezza di Castagneto, diventa una strada di cosiddetta “cornice”, cioè diventa pianeggiante e segue i “contours” della montagna. Le vedute sui campi, vigneti e foreste della zona sono bellissime. C’è ancora una salita ripida prima della svolta a destra per Sassetta. Segue una lunga, bellissima discesa verso il paese medioevale si Suvereto, dove ho raggiunto il gruppo che si era fermato per visitare il mercato settimanale. Era l’ora di un rinfresco, ho preso un bicchiere di spremuta di arancia, una vera delizia. Le arance sono state ottime quest’anno.

An unusual bar end rear view mirror.
After Suvereto, we continued down to the main road which connects Piombino with Monterotondo Marittimo and, eventually, Volterra. But after eight kilometres (5 miles) of a fairly traffic-free road, we turned left along the smaller provincial road leading back up the hill towards Sassetta. It was along this road that I had my race with the speeding dragonfly. It’s a very pleasant, quiet road with vineyards and sunflower fields to either side, before it enters the wooded slopes below Sassetta. Once again, the main tour group pulled relentlessly ahead, gradually disappearing out of sight.

Enrico Caracciolo poses with a fellow rider.
Dopo Suvereto siamo scesi verso la provinciale che connette Piombino, Monterotondo Marittimo e, molto più avanti, Volterra. Dopo 8 km di una strada relativamente liberata di traffico, abbiamo girato a sinistra verso Sassetta. Fu lungo questa strada che ebbi l’incontro con la libellula ad alta velocità. E’ una strada molto gradevole che costeggia vigneti e campi di girasoli prima di entrare nelle foreste sotto Sassetta. Ancora una volta il gruppo principale si è spinto avanti, per poi sparire nel verde.

Enrico Caracciolo and Andy Hampsten at the Suvereto market.
I hauled myself slowly up to Sassetta, or rather to the turnoff just outside the village. I knew from then on that it would be downhill to Castagneto, so the tour was almost over as far as putting in serious effort was concerned. At the junction with the state road SS 398 leading to Castagneto, I met the tour members who had elected for the longer route via Monterotondo Marittimo. I turned left to go down the hillside towards Castagneto.

A roadside map of the area around Sassetta
Mi sono trascinato faticosamente fino al bivio per Sassetta. Sapevo che da quel punto in poi la strada scendeva fino a Castagneto e che non ci sarebbe più bisogna di grandi sforzi. Al bivio con la statale 398 ho incontrato altri membri del gruppo che avevano scelto di seguire una variante più lungo via Monterotondo Marittimo. Ho girato a sinistra per scendere verso Castagneto.

Left to right: Andy Hampsten and Michael Ivy (photo E. Caracciolo)
I swooped down the hill to the Hotel Zio Martino just in time for lunch and a very welcome dish of pasta with “funghi porcini” (boletus mushrooms, a local speciality) with Tuscan bread and olive oil. Then it was time for what I felt was a well deserved siesta.

Mi sono piombato verso l’Hotel Zio Martino, arrivando giusto in tempo per un delizioso pranzo di pasta con funghi porcini e pane toscano con olio di ulivo. Dopodiché era l’ora di una siesta benmeritata.

Travel Details

A map of southwest Tuscany We were based near the port of Piombino.

A closer look at southwest Tuscany. Our route is marked in red.

Some more detail.
Overall distance: about 50 km.
Gradients: steep uphill from Hotel Zio Martino to Castagneto Carducci and beyond to Sassetta. Then a long downhill run to Suvereto. After Suvereto, the road is level along the main SS398 road until you take a left to climb back towards Sassetta.

How to get there:

Flights to Pisa Airport
Trains from Rome or Livorno to San Vincenzo

Liberation Day in the Woods

2007-06-24T11:29:00.000+02:00

Oriolo Romano: L'incontro per la partenza

April 25 in Italy celebrates the liberation of Rome in 1944 from Nazi-Fascist occupation. In good weather it’s just the day to get out of the city on bikes, taking barbecue equipment and food, safely light a fire in a forest, cook and eat lunch, and drink some good wine.

Il 25 aprile si festeggia la liberazione di Rome dai nazifascisti. Col bel tempo è un’ottima occasione per uscire dalla città con attrezzatura di barbecue, cibi e vini, trovare un posto nella foresta, mettere le salsiccie sulla griglia e bere un’ottimo vino.

Romano fixes Richard Dawton's bike

Accordingly, a varied group of cyclists was found heading north out of Rome on the now familiar train from Roma Ostiense to Viterbo and which goes past Lago di Bracciano. But instead of getting off at Bracciano for the lake, we got off at Oriolo Romano, under the guidance of Romano Puglisi, author of two volumes on how to combine bicycle and train journeys in Lazio: “Treno + bici in Lazio”: “1.- settentrionale” (north) and “2. – meridionale” (south).

La fontana nel centro storico di Oriolo Romano

Così un piccolo gruppo di ciclisti si è fatto trovare sul treno da Roma Ostiense a Viterbo, con destinazione Oriolo Romano, guidato dall’esperto Romano Puglisi, autore dei due volumi “Treno + Bici nel Lazio”.

Arriving just after midday, we halted in the station car park to make last minute adjustments to our bikes before setting off for the ‘centro storico’, or old town, of Oriolo to have a very late cappuccino – a drink that is not normally taken in the afternoon.

Leaving Oriolo Romano

Siamo arrivati ad Oriolo poco dopo mezzogiorno. Dopo una pausa alla stazione per mettere a posto le bici ci siamo diritti verso il centro storico.

Una pausa sul percorso per la foresta

After refreshments we headed west out of town. On the edge of Oriolo there is a large forest and national park, the “Riserva Naturale di Monteromano”, consisting mainly of deciduous trees. At the entrance there’s a car park, plenty of picnic areas and special fireplaces for barbies. Since these had all long been taken by large families, we pushed into the remoter parts of the forest.

Dopo una consumazione al bar – nel caso mio un cappuccino pomeridiano, cosa fuori le norme, siamo usciti da Oriolo per poi immergerci nella Riserva Naturale di Monteromano. All’ingresso c’è un parcheggio e tanti posti fuoco, tutti naturalmente occupati da escursionisti. Quindi ci siamo approfonditi nella foresta.

Preparing our barbecue

At a spot chosen by Romano, we dismounted and unhooked our bike bags, which contained cutlery, plastic plates and beakers, sausages, meat for grilling, salads, fruit and a very drinkable Sicilian “Nero d’Avola” wine.

We gathered dry sticks and bits of small branches for our fire, which we lit on a stony track going through the forest. The forest floor was slightly damp after recent rain so there was little risk of leaves and similar causing the fire to spread. It’s important, of course, to watch the fire at all times, as they can cause a serious problem especially in the summer months. Indeed it’s an offence to light fires in other than designated areas, and once the summer starts they’re often forbidden outright.

Ad un posto indicato da Romano ci siamo fermati per scaricare l’attrezzatura e preparare il barbecue. La terra era leggermente umida quindi non c’era un rischio per il fuoco. Abbiamo messo qualche minuto per accendere bene il fuoco, per puoi metterci le salsicce che, infatti, erano più gustose per essere state preparate nell’aria aperta.

In our case, the fire, owing to a slight dampness, took a little while to start but once it did we were able to cook our sausages on Romano’s special collapsible grill. Somehow they tasted far better for being cooked out in the open.

Romano and Anthony grill our sausages

Si è voluto un certo impegno per accendere il fuoco ma una volta avviato era ottimo per cucinare le salsicce che avevano un sapore migliore per essere state preparate all’aria aperta.

At the end of the meal, we cleared up carefully, extinguishing the fire completely using water from our bike bottles. It was surprisingly difficult to ensure that every last ember was out, an important task to ensure no havoc ensued after we left.

Dopo pranzo abbiamo spento accuratemente il fuoco mediante acqua dale nostre boracce. Questo è un compito assolutamente da non dimenticare.

We continued pedalling west along the forest paths, at one point meeting a large party of riders whose horses had stopped to drink at a fountain in the middle of the park.

Abbiamo poi pedalato attraverso la foresta. Ad un certo momento abbiamo incontrato dei cavallerizzi i cui cavalli volevano bere ad una fontana già occupata da una mucca, che poi si è spaventata.

A cow drinking at the fountain takes fright on the arrival of the riders

At the western edge of the park, we emerged onto farmland which sloped gently down towards the Mediterranean, which we could just see in the far distance. We found a series of little-frequented roads leading down to Santa Severa, a small coastal town which is now both a popular resort and a dormitory town for commuters to Rome, served by the main west coast railway line from Rome to Turin.

A game of cards in progress on the edge of the national park
Usciti dal parco, abbiamo continuato lungo una serie di strade di campagna poco frequentate per poi arrivare al borgo balneare di Santa Severa.

On the way to the coast: in the misty distance is the small town of Santa Severa
Santa Severa has a large castle, part of a small self-contained village, right on the beach. We parked our bikes and went in for a dip. The water temperature was perfectly acceptable, which isn’t always the case at this time of year.

Pedalling along deserted country tracks

A Santa Severa c’è un grande castello circondato da un piccolo borgo, vicinissmo alla spiaggia. L’acqua era di una temperature comoda, che non è spesso il caso in questa stagione.

On the beach at Santa Severa: Anthony snaps Valerio and Richard
After our swim, we caught a train north to Santa Marinella, as from there, trains to Rome run more frequently. Santa Marinella’s seafront has a large and well-equipped bar-cum-pizzeria which served much needed beers and snacks, especially for the younger members of the group.

Biker/bathers on the beach at Santa Severa

Dopo il nostro bagno abbiamo preso il treno per Santa Marinella, da dove i treni per Roma partono molto più spesso. A Santa Marinella c’è un’ottimo bar-pizzeria sul lungomare.

Finally, we caught the last train back to Roma Termini station. It had been a great day out and the beauty of the train and bike option was that we would not face the ordeal of the “rientrata”, the mass return to the city that all motorists dread.

Evening at Santa Severa: palm trees cast shadows on the castle of Santa Severa

Alla fine abbiamo preso l’ultimo treno per Roma Termini. E stata un’ottima giornata, ed eravamo vantaggiati dal fatto di essere in treno, cosi abbiamo evitato la noiosissima rientrata che ogni domenica impaurisce gli automobilisti.

Practicalities/Scheda tecnica:

Distance: about thirty kilometres

Trains: Out: Roma Ostiense to Oriolo Romano on the Viterbo line. Back: Santa Marinella to Roma Termini on the west coast main line from Livorno to Roma Termini. See more at http://www.trenitalia.it/

Maps: are almost useless. The Rome Province map (1:150 000) by Edizioni Iter (http://www.iteredizioni.it/) shows very few of the routes we did. Try the Litografia Artistica Cartografica sheet for Rome province which is on the same scale but more detailed.

Purtroppo le mappe attualmente disponibili sono quasi inutili in quanto mostrano poche delle strade che abbiamo fatto. Da provare: le carte della provincia di Roma al 1:150 000 pubblicate da Editzione Iter e da Litografia Artistica Cartografica.

I will try to add a Google Map to this posting to give an idea of the location.

Updates and Changes

2007-06-13T00:08:00.000+02:00

Many thanks to those responsible at Ruotalibera for mentioning this blog, providing a link to it on their site, and reproducing some of my photos in the "Cantine Aperte" article.

Si ringrazia il sito Ruotalibera per aver incluso un collegamento a questo sito, nonchè per la riproduzione di alcune foto nell'articolo "Cantine aperte", riferendosi all'iniziativa recente sulla pianura pontina.

I've made a few small changes: I have put our names and faces in a single post entitled "Chi Siamo/Who We Are". To find it, see the list of postings for May.

At any time, by clicking on the small right-pointing triangle to the left of the month, you'll get a list of postings for that month.

And following complaints about the difficulty in entering the site, doubtless due to the large number of photos involved, I have placed a limit of 2 on the number of posts visible on the opening page. That way, I hope the experience of visiting the blog will be less frustrating. To see other posts, click on the links to be seen in the right-hand column.

Finally, a word about comments. Some readers are still confused by the fact that the comments window appears to ask you for a Blogger login profile, with user ID and password.

Per quanto riguardi i commenti, alcuni lettori si trovano confusi dal fatto che sembra che il sito chieda un nome-utente e password. Non è infatti cosi. Basta scegliere gli opzioni "Altro" o "Anonimo" per potere semplicemente immettere il proprio nome e/o indirizzo del proprio sito Web se esiste quest'ultimo. Invece non mai mettere un'indirizzo e-mail. Se si sceglie "Anonimo" siete pregati di lasciare il nome alla fine del commento.

Rest assured that you can avoid this by simply choosing the option "Other" or "Anonymous". The window will change as soon as you click the option button, and will no longer ask for a user ID and password. In the case of "Other" it will ask you for your name and the URL of your site, if you have one. Both requests are optional.

However I would like to ask you, if you choose Anonymous, to put your name at the end of your comment.

More bike rides coming up! Watch this space.

A Bike Blog Is Born!

2007-06-12T23:58:00.000+02:00

From Etruscan country to Pontine plains. From the crater lakes of north Lazio to the hilltop towns around Cassino. From the banks of the Tiber in central Rome to the beaches around Ostia. We're on our bikes most Sundays, discovering unruined Italy.

Share our experiences and practical information. The Blog is interactive: you’re most welcome to have your say by using the Comment facility.

Although postings are mainly in English, as my written Italian is not perfect, comments in Italian or other languages are always welcome. From time to time they will be pasted into the main comments, with a translation if possible.

The next few postings will present past, much-loved routes, not necessarily in the order in which they were done. They’ll include the disused railway from Capranica-Civitavecchia , the Lake Bracciano circuit, and the Pontine Plain from Latina to the coast.

Later, we will post each ride as soon as we’ve done it, again with practical tips including maps. So - on your velocipedes, come with us!

(PS: the header photo isn't in Lazio but on the Canal du Midi in the south of France. Another truly great ride. A fresh photo will be posted from time to time.)

Cantine Aperte, Open Wineries Day, 27 May 2007

2007-05-30T01:13:00.000+02:00

A taster at the Azienda Ganci e Milone

What better on a day like this than to set off by train and bike to get the best out of this special day? As well as the wine, there was the promise of the first bathe of the year on the coast south of Rome.

Il 27 maggio è stato il giorno delle Cantine Aperte, ottima occasione per prendere treno e bici e scendere a Latina per una combinazione di vino e il primo tuffo in mare.

100 cyclists load up at Rome's Stazione Termini..
The weather report’s promise of thundery rain did not put off the 100 cyclists who assembled at 8 a.m. at Stazione Termini for the 08.44 train to Latina Scalo, 62 km down the line towards Naples. The trip had been organised by the Associazione Ruotalibera and a special bike van had been booked and attached to the outward and return trains.

Anche se le previsioni meteorologiche non erano tra le migliore, più di cento ciclisti si sono fatti trovare alla Staz. Termini alle 8 di mattina per prendere il treno con un vagone bici appositamente prenotato.

... and unload at Latina Scalo.
Departure was almost on time and the weather, despite Meteo.it’s foreboding, looked good. We disembarked remarkably quickly at Latina and rapidly crossed the tracks, although you’re supposed to use the underpass, to assemble in the car park outside the station. Water bottles were filled, tyres checked and pumped up, and other last-minute adjustments made.

La partenza si è effettuata in orario e il tempo malgrado le previsioni sembrava buono. Siamo tutti scesi in modo veloce a Latina Scalo per poi attraversare i binari (normalmente non si fa) per poi radunarci nel piazzale fuori per espletare gli ultimi preparativi.

Last minute fixes... and Ruotalibera stalwart Roberto Caputo, who constructed my bike.
Latina is a large agricultural market town set on the Pontine Plains south of Rome. Until the 1920s much of the area was unproductive malarial swamp, hemmed in by the sea to the west and the foothills of the Apennines to the east. Most of the land was held by a few feudal families such as the Caetani, with whom a number of castles and estates are still associated. After World War I the marshes were drained and families from other areas of Italy were encouraged to move in and farm the land. Many of them came from the then poor Veneto region, which is why the Venetian dialect and Venetian surnames predominate. Nowadays the region is intensively cultivated with vegetables, cereals and vines. The area is crisscrossed by a rectilinear network of small lanes and canals.

Latina è un grosso borgo agricolo ubicato nel cuore della pianura pontina, che fino agli anni Venti del secolo scorso era una palude infestata di zanzare "anofeles". Spesso ci si moriva in età giovane a causa della malaria endemica.

Demonstrating the health advantages of cycling
Our route took us out of Latina Scalo where the station is, and situated ten kilometres northeast of Latina town. We meandered through the lanes, occasionally crossing more major arteries such as the Pontina and the well-known Highway Seven (Strada Statale 7), also known as the Via Appia.

The trailer and the leader. Note that the front wheel of the child's bike is lifted just off the ground.
Organisation was tight, with tour leader Andrea up front with his trailer bike towing his daughter. Bringing up the rear was British cyclist Vicky and her son, with the distinctive yellow Ruotalibera flag. It was essential to keep to a reasonably close formation. The route had clearly been well researched and most of the roads we bicycled along had little traffic.

Ottima l'organizzazione dell'associazione Ruotalibera, con "marescialli" in testa e a coda del gruppo, e anche agli incroci in modo che nessuno prenda la strada (che era stata ben studiata) sbagliata.

The founder's grandson explains the wine process
Our first winery was the Azienda Ganci e Milone, where we had a well-earned rest and in my case a small beaker of red wine. Just as welcome was the pizza bread soaked in olive oil. We were shown round the wine presses and huge storage tanks. It was then time to move on towards the coast.

Thankfully we missed Latina itself, skirting the town to the east. We went through a small forest and thence towards the sea, which we reached at the Torre Fogliano. Here we entered a small coastal track, formerly a motor road but now closed to cars, running along the tops of the dunes which back the beach. The track gets sandy at times, and a mountain bike would be an advantage. In places landslips have occurred, with the road eaten away to a narrow path.

Fortunatamente abbiamo evitato Latina stessa per poi ragguingere la costa al Torre Fogliano. Abbiamo imoccato una vecchia strada dimessa, ormai una pista, che costeggia la spiaggia. La MTB conviene in questa zona.

The erosion-ravaged track

Wooden staircases lead down to the beach at intervals. At one of these, half the party halted, to fling themselves into the sea. It was at this point that the rain started coming down in serious quantities. The rest of us pushed on the beach restaurant that we know, from previous trips, to be close at hand. This serves good fish and seafood lunches as well as snacks, seafood salads and sandwiches. There are tables outside with shelter from rain if needed, which is surprisingly often.

Il primo tuffo - The first dip
After eating, drinking and a short siesta, it was time to be moving inland again, by way of a large buffalo farm. Here we are getting into the land of ‘mozzarella’ - the famous white buffalo cheese which is an essential ingredient of pizza and other regional dishes.

Glorious mud with wallowing buffaloes

After the farm we plunged into a large forest which is part of the Circeo National Park. Cars aren’t allowed in but walkers and cyclists can use any number of tracks through the forest. It wouldn’t be a good idea to be here after dark, as the forest is thick and signposts rare. Wild boar roam around, leaving plenty of traces of their foraging for roots with their tusks. Turtles inhabit some of the pools.

Emerging from the forest we were ready for the next winery: the Cantina Sant’Andrea, which produces an appetising ‘moscato’ or sweet white wine. More food was offered: bread soaked in delicious olive oil, but also tasty raw ham and local salami.

Father and son rest by the grape crusher

All too soon, however, it was time to press on for the last few kilometres towards the station of Priverno Fossanova where we were to catch our homeward train.

Meeting for departure
The route took us round the countryside along numerous drainage canals. Looking at the prosperous farms and houses, it is hard to believe that 80 years ago people lived in primitive conditions in the swamps, racked by the malaria which ensured that life expectancy barely reached 40 years.

Back to the station
In the canals at dusk, look for the large grey ‘nutria’, a rodent introduced from South America for its fur, and now well established in the wild.

We reached Priverno station just after 6 pm, with our train expected at 7.00 pm. The station bar offered refreshing “Peroni Gran Riserva” beer and seats to rest aching limbs. Some people went off to the nearby Abbey and associated village – well worth seeing although parts of it are currently closed for restoration. Others went into the village to buy ‘mozzarella’, quality samples of which are hard to find in nearby Rome, as it does not travel well.

Waiting for the train
We did just on seventy kilometres, with hardly a mishap. The tour was ably and accurately lead by Andrea, and well marshalled by other Ruotalibera members to ensure that nobody got lost.

Loading up at Priverno-Fossanova
All power to the Ruotalibera team. See the calendar on their web site for further excursions. An evening ride is planned for 24 June to the countryside south of Rome to see the fireflies.

Watch this space!

Part 2: The Abandoned Railway from Capranica to Civitavecchia

2007-05-24T23:24:00.000+02:00

The bridge over the Mignone River

The Mignone River trickles away to the southwest under the high viaduct. The area is thickly wooded – beautiful in autumn – and there isn’t a human dwelling in sight unless you count the Etruscan house up the cliff to your left as you approach the high bridge. Getting there requires a bit of climbing, which someone has made easier by attaching an iron ladder to the rock face. The house itself is one of the oldest dwellings yet discovered in this part of Italy.

The Etruscan House. Overlooking the Mignone Viaduct, you get there by scrambling up the cliff, with the help of an iron ladder. It is one of the oldest dwellings in this area.

We unpack our lunch and sack out on the bridge. The ironwork is properly painted and the fittings appear fairly new, testimony to the 1990s idea of resuscitating the railway. You can see the river flowing below the bridge through the flooring which consists of a (hopefully) sturdy grille. On one May Day, someone attempted to walk his dog across the bridge, but the poor beast, able to see through the grille that there was a considerable drop, refused to proceed. The hefty Alsatian had to be carried across.

Luncheon on the bridge

After a siesta, we pack up and move on. Our next hazard is a shortish tunnel which on hot days is a great favourite of the Maremma cattle that graze in the forests. On one occasion we found the tunnel chock full of cattle, including calves and at least one bull. We had to wade through them very slowly to avoid a stampede. Today the tunnel is almost empty of cattle, but full of their dung, which quickly clogs shoes and mudguards. We are thankful that it hasn’t rained recently.

A fine Maremma bull
Next comes the Long Tunnel, all 1.3 kilometres of it, or 1.6 km according to Romano Puglisi. You can feel its chill wind some time before you reach the entrance. Fortunately it is dead straight so you can see the pinpoint exit. There’s a short rendezvous to fix lights. In we go, keeping well to the right. Water drips from the tunnel roof. Not all riders have brought lights and there are moments of panic when people fall behind and lose sight of the convoy. Voices echo surreally. As we approach the end, we can see hundreds of cobwebs lining the tunnel walls and glinting in the light. It’s not, perhaps, a place to be in by yourself, the more so that, at the end of the tunnel, there is a high concrete barrier. Breeze blocks have been helpfully positioned, but a team is needed to lift our machines, and our youngest rider Richard Dawton, 6, over the wall.

The longest tunnel at 1.3 km. Look for light at the end of it!
This is the last of the long tunnels. Now we’re through the highest of the Tolfa Hills and getting closer to the coast. We’re going through arable farmland and at last there comes a point where we can see the sea. We stop on a low viaduct to admire the landscape and have a drink. Some of us are running out of water, which is bad news as there is no way of replacing it.

Just before a square-built, very modern tunnel we can see, above right, the ruins of Centelle, a medieval settlement built to house refugees from Saracen pirate raids on the coast. The track undulates a bit but is generally smooth and easy. We have done just over forty kilometres.

Almost at the end of the railway just after Allumiere station.
Suddenly, it all comes to an end just after the ruined Allumiere station. The track enters a cutting but stops dead at a huge grassy mound. It continues beyond, but the cutting is choked with vegetation. We turn right up a bank and onto a farm road. It's a moment of anti-climax: after over 40 km of traffic-free riding, the old railway has become our home.

We turn left up the hill and keep going past a couple of restored railway cottages, until we get to a country road going downhill to the coast. At the crossroads there’s a bridge over the railway, of which the tracks can be seen, overgrown with weeds, proceeding south towards Civitavecchia.

Freewheeling towards the Via Aurelia.
We head down the road, among cypresses, towards the busy Via Aurelia, the consular road that goes from Rome up the west coast to Pisa, Genova and into France. When we meet it, we’re near the entrance to the motorway (toll highway) and the traffic is slow. There’s the added bonus of a kiosk selling ‘prodotti regionali’ such as cheese and salami, and most importantly, bottled water. We buy ten bottles or so and drink thirstily.

Hitching a ride: Richard Dawton on the crossbar, being carried by Anthony
It’s now late afternoon. We head north along the Aurelia for a kilometre, keeping well into the right-hand side. Fortunately there is plenty of room. But we now have to turn left across the traffic down a road marked ‘Litoranea’ (sea-shore). This involves waiting for a break in the traffic to allow all ten of us to cross. Fortunately the traffic is not fast at this point and motorists often stop to let riders go. The road slopes down towards the sea, past farmhouses selling wine and olive oil. Left at the next crossroads towards Civitavecchia, but then at the following crossroads we go straight over towards a camp site. We go down a narrow eucalyptus-lined road and then into a pine forest. Bearing left, we reach our destination: a wooden beach bar set just behind the rocky shore. This is just the place for weary cyclists to rest after forty kilometres of abandoned railway, downhill though most of it is. The bar has an abundant supply of “Ceres” and “Beck’s” beer, though not much to eat apart from potato crisps.

Weary riders hit the beach bar. They fantasize about not going back to work.

The sun is now setting gloriously. It’s time to mount and ride towards Civitavecchia, skirting the huge power station with its red-and-white banded chimneys. As we enter town we pass a grim fortress-like building, on the entrance to which there is a plaque: “Casa di Reclusione” (prison). Movie buffs may recall that it was the setting for “Che Ora E?” with Marcello Mastroianni and Massimo Troisi. Another plaque recalls the sufferings of those who fell foul of the Mussolini regime and were incarcerated here.

Coast near Civitavecchia
Civitavecchia is a major port for Rome and around, with regular ferries to Corsica and Sardinia, and sometimes further overseas to Tunis and Barcelona. There’s almost always a cruise ship in the harbour. The town, badly bombed during World War II, still has its seventeenth-century ramparts and a picturesque “centro storico”. We wade through dense traffic along the seafront – it is “passeggiata” time – towards the station, to our left just behind the main drag. There are “interregionali” trains to Rome every two hours. Civitavecchia station is endowed with an excellent bar and pizzeria, and, having time to spare, we settle down for copious refreshments before getting our 20.30 train.

The takeway pizzas are particularly good at Civitavecchia Station and there's an impressive array of drinks.

The Abandoned Railway: some background
A railway from Orte, in the interior, to Civitavecchia, an important port, was planned as early as 1870 when the Terni steelworks, near Orte, were built. It was thought that a railway would provide an ideal outlet for the products of the interior. But construction wasn't started till 1922 and only finished in 1929 - a long time for a railway of just under 80 km. This was because the line went through the difficult terrain of the Tolfa Hills.

Viabiity

The railway never seems to have been particularly viable. For heavy goods, it was often easier, owing to the hills and consequent steep gradients (to which any cyclist trying to do the trip from Civitavecchia to Capranica can testify) to go the long way round via Rome. Passengers were relatively few in number: the line was used by a few rural residents, as, before World War II, there were few cars or roads in the area. Passenger numbers increased in summer when holidaymakers from Viterbo would head for the coast. But by the 1950s road transport was taking over.

Closure threat

The line was constantly under threat of closure and was finally done for by the landslide of 8 January 1961. After three days of non-stop rain, a cutting wall at the entrance to one of the tunnels subsdied and blocked the line. Though the blockage was easy enough to clear, the incident was used as an excuse to close the line. Thereafter it was only used over certain sections by the Army.

In the 1980s, however, there was a revival of interest in the line, partly fuelled by local protests at its closure. Work was started to reline the tunnel walls and strengthen the bridges so that electric trains could be used. This accounts for the generally excellent state of cuttings, tunnels and bridges. The Mignone viaduct was restructured and unexploded World War II ordnance (the bridge was bombed during the war) removed. Inexplicably, however, the project was abandoned in 1998, presumably on grounds of cost. From time to time there are plans to re-open the railway, but nothing has come of them so far.

Site

For more information, see the excellent site, in Italian, on the history of the Orte-Capranica-Civitavecchia railway. This is part of a much larger site on the industrial archaeology of north Lazio, entitled ARCHEOIND.

Practicalities

Maps

Unfortunately no currently published maps show the line of the old railway, which seems an amazing omission for such an important feature. Some idea of the trace of the line through the countryside can be gained from the marked localities through which the line passes. I'll try to add a Google map, rudimentary though it will be, to this post in the near future.

Trains

Run regularly from Roma Ostiense to Capranica, and from Civitavecchia to Rome. For times, see the Trenitalia site.

As mentioned earlier, there is absolutely no advantage in doing this ride from Civitavecchia to Capranica, since there is a pronounced gradient almost all the way.

Food and drink

Bring your own. Stock up with water at the Capranica station bar, and, especially in hot weather, overestimate your needs. There are no supplies along the way except at Blera.

Enjoy! If you do this ride and wish to share your experiences, write a comment in the language of your choice, within reason!

How to leave a comment

2007-05-17T12:24:00.000+02:00

Some people have reported difficulties with leaving a comment. You do not need to be a member of Blogger to leave a comment. Here's how to proceed:

Click on the "comment" link.

Write your message in the space provided.

Next, in the window "Verifica parola"/"Word verification", type in the words in blue that you see on the screen. This is to deter Spammers.

Then, on "sceglie un'identità"/"Choose an identity", choose "altro"/"other" or "Anonimo"/"Anonymous".

If you choose "Anonymous", please do put your name at the bottom of your message. If you choose "Other", there is a space for you to write your name and, optionally, the URL of your web site.

Then click "Publish your comment".

Many thanks, - Mike

Part 1 of The Abandoned Railway, Sunday 22 April 2007

2007-05-15T00:23:00.000+02:00

Emerging from a tunnel on the old Capranica- Civitavecchia railway

Rome Ostiense station, 8.30 in the morning. The air and sunlight are crisp, promising a perfect day. One by one the cyclists trickle in. Tickets are bought for the Rome-Capranica route on the line to Viterbo, and for the return journey from Civitavecchia, on the west coast Pisa-Rome line. There are relatively few people about so it’s a painless task. Otherwise, there are automatic machines. Breakfast is had at one of the two well-equipped bars.

Detail of the 1930s façade of Rome's Ostiense Station

The horizon outside the station is anxiously scanned for late-comers; the train leaves at 9.50. But no worries, everybody has made it. Then down the escalator to platform 14, the other side of the station, to board the double-decker commuter train. The Trenitalia staff encourage us to board the train, with our bikes, at the back. However, these trains have an odd feature: though bikes are allowed, there is nowhere to hang the bikes up, so nine bicycles have to be stowed in the corridors. It’s a curious omission; on the west coast main line, and on the main line to Naples, the ‘interregionali’ trains are well-equipped, with vans where bikes can be hung up by their front wheels.

On the train: left to right: Romolo, Alessandra, Flavio, Tiziana, Billy, Anthony, Richard and Alberto. Anthony must be the best-dressed of us: white shirt with cufflinks, if you look carefully.

Leaving on time

9.50 a.m.: the train leaves on time. Never rely on Italian trains leaving late: it happens less often than you may think. The train trundles over the Tiber by the ‘gasometer’, made famous in Ferzan Ozpetek’s movie “Le Fate Ignoranti”. Since the movie came out, property prices in this once seedy area have shot up. We stop at Trastevere, San Pietro (good view of the Basilica), San Filippo Neri and a series of further urban stations. At each one crowds of people get on, pushing their way past our awkwardly-stowed machines.

In the countryside
At last we’re in open countryside, heading north through the green, thickly wooded Etruscan lands. We stop at Bracciano, getting a glimpse of the lake and the imposing Odescalchi castle. Lake Bracciano is one of three crater lakes in north Lazio and will be the subject of another article.

After Oriolo Romano we’re on alert to get off at Capranica-Sutri. Finally at 10.20 the train sighs to a halt and we get off. We have to wait for the train to leave before we can cross the tracks (normally strictly forbidden, and enforced) and head for the bar.

Ready to go
Here we have last-minute refreshments and fill up our bike bottles (“boraccie” in Italian). We take a couple of extra mineral water bottles as a precaution. This is vital, for where we’re going it’s wild countryside, with nowhere to stop for food or drink. Packed lunches are already stowed in our bags.

Out of the station, turn right along the ‘strada provinciale’. Half a K down the road we look for a turning right, with a level-crossing sign. Then we’re straight over the tracks and, dead ahead, a narrow cinder path, partially obstructed by concrete blocks, beckons.

Origins of the railway
This is where the Orte-Civitavecchia ran from about the 1930’s to the 1960’s. It is hard to come by any firm information. The line was apparently built to carry goods, and some passengers, from Orte in the interior, down to Civitavecchia, a major port near Rome. In the 1960’s the line was closed amid, it’s said, considerable opposition. Then in the early 1990’s a proposal was made to reopen the railway. Considerable work was done, to judge by the relatively fresh state of the cutting and tunnel linings, before the project was abandoned. Meanwhile, the line, with its smooth roadbed, has become popular with riders, cyclists, joggers and the occasional trail motorcyclist. Certain sections are used by farmers for moving livestock.

Going like a train: Richard Dawton, 6, heads the convoy.

We pedal on, strung out in a long line, through cuttings, under bridges, through the beautiful springtime countryside. Three kilometres down the line, however, we meet our first tunnel.

The first tunnel. It's only 200 metres long, but it's on a curve.

The first tunnel
This one is about 200 metres long. It’s unlit of course, and because it curves to the right, you can’t see the end. Lights are essential here, the more the better. Our equipment ranges from improvised torches strapped onto handlebars to top-of-the range quartz-iodine headlights of the type favoured by speleologists. We keep to the right: all the tunnels have central drainage channels partially covered by concrete slabs, some of which have been removed or have slipped into the channel itself.

Out of the tunnel, we switch off lights and carry on. Tunnel entrances and exits are always places to stop and confer, fix saddle heights, lights, clothing and recalcitrant tyres. The second tunnel is short and straight; beside it is a house, whether farm or holiday house is unclear, complete with fierce dogs. Fortunately they’re behind a sturdy wire fence.

Obstacle course: barriers impede travel along the old railway, but cyclists can get over them.

The abandoned, half-ruined station of Blera comes into view after about ten Ks. This is one place you could stop off and have lunch or a drink somewhere, as the village of Blera is close by. But if you’re keen to do the whole run to Civitavecchia, it’s best to push on. This isn’t arduous as the route is at least level, and often downhill. The track is mostly light gravel giving way to larger stones especially as we move into the Tolfa Hills. So this ride wouldn’t be suitable for racers. Most of us have hybrid or mountain bikes.

The abandoned station of Civitella Cesi

Snakes alive

After 15 kilometres the track emerges from a cutting to cross a small provincial road. This spot is where the sight of a large grass snake slithering rapidly across the track isn’t uncommon. On one previous ride a snake unseated a friend’s 10-year-old daughter, who panicked on sight of the alarming (but harmless) reptile. “It was absolutely massive”, said her mother. “I’d never seen anything like it.” I have at home a perfectly-preserved sloughed snake skin which I found on one of the cutting walls.

Bridge on the River Mignone - and lunch

Ahead of us are the green Tolfa Hills, once harbouring a considerable bauxite-mining industry, now defunct. As we enter the hills the countryside gets rocky and more heavily wooded. Longhorned Maremma cattle wander across the track. And at Kilometre 30, the abandoned Monteromano Station comes into view. We have almost reached our lunch stop on the viaduct across the Mignone River.

The old railway crosses the Mignone River. A favourite for picnickers, especially on May Day.

Part Two coming up! Watch this space...

Chi Siamo/Who We Are

2007-05-10T00:52:00.000+02:00

The Riders

The Regulars:

Phil Abram
Mount: Cannondale tourer

Alessandra Angrisano
Mount: Scott mountain bike

Romolo De Gregorio
Mount: Bianchi mountain bike

Mike Ivy
Mount: Custom-built hybrid tourer by Romeo

Theresa McGowan
Mount: Olmo city bike

The Irregulars:

Maria Grazia Lunghi Mount: Hybrid

Romano Puglisi
Mount: Kastle hybrid tourer, with special seat for son Valerio

Tiziana Spina
Mount: “Specialized” tourer

Flavio Del Soldato Mount: Cannondale mountain bike

Billy and Anthony Dawton
Mounts: As they find them

Richard Dawton
Mount: child’s mountain bike