A BIKE WITH A VIEW

Take a bike, a tent and your partner - find a lake and get a new life

That Sunday night our friends called us to invite over for dinner. After talking about our weekend, I asked them about theirs. "As usual, quite restful, a couple of videos lying on the sofa"- was the answer. A feeling of superiority filled me and I turned to look at Teresa.

She smiled back, showing she had understood what I was thinking at that moment. My everyday life and my relationship were starting to be boring. I knew only the problems and the responsibilities of my job and the gaiety of weekend evenings spent clubbing to take my mind off my things with a couple of cocktails. Going out and getting pissed to regret it the day after was not funny any longer. It's not living, it's not ... real life. I wanted to do something different, something special ... and with her.

Everything started the Friday before our friends`dinner, when I called Teresa to say that I wasn't going out that night as usual. I wanted to go to bed early to feel rested and fresh for spending the weekend cycling somewhere in the countryside with her. A sort of natural need - the call of nature, of the wild. She didn't believe me. I warned her - "Wait till tomorrow morning and you will see." Unusually for me, that Saturday morning I woke early. I bought a rear pannier for my mountain bike and started to cycle to Florence.

At that time I lived 15 miles from the city. I took the national road to save time. The flat tyres of my mtb were perfect for the medieval streets of Florence. I cycled on a lighter gear among crowds of tourists in the San Lorenzo market, Piazza del Duomo and Via Calzaioli. Then I crossed Piazza Signoria to reach Ponte Vecchio cycling nearby the Uffizi Gallery. Historical buildings and reinassance squares flashed by me. I was enraptured to show myself to this impressive town with my two-wheeler loaded for freedom. I had been downtown so many times, but that morning was different.

The town looked different - somehow fresher and more attractive than usual. From a 4-wheeled metal box you can't smell the scent of the art and the history, typical of Florence. By bike you can go where cars can't and feet cannot afford to. On foot you soon get tired and don't have time to get an 'overdose of beautiful views'. I had always admired all those tourists who cycle-tour in Italy. So now I was pretending to be one of them - a traveller of the world who wants to enjoy the freedom of going wherever he wants, with little money and with the simplest means of transportation.

An Hermann Hesse, a Jack Kerouac on two-wheels. I rang Teresa`s bell and she wasn't ready yet. She still couldn't believe it. But my cycling shorts convinced her. Now she started to be excited (and not because of my shorts). I took the heaviest load - the tent, the sleeping bags, my towel and my change (one T-shirt and one light jumper). She just took her toothbrush and her change. Because of my D.I.Y. touristic attitude always lacked planning, I just had a free map of the Florentine countryside from a magazine. We chose an itinerary we had done before by car. First challenge, climbing the hill that lead to Piazzale Michelangelo, which wasn't too hard maybe because we were still full of excitement.

The Michelangelo`s David, patrolling the town from the top of his hill, was too busy even to turn to wish us a nice weekend. Bunches of tourists seated at the small cafe of the Piazzale were having their American coffee (double espresso plus hot water - the Italian version of filter coffee). Some were breakfasting with huge ice-creams. And what ice-creams! If you have never licked a three-flavour cone, you cannot understand what I'm talking about. We could rest while free-wheeling down on the other side of the hill and enjoy all those sharp turns.

The most beautiful villas of the city are there. Then up again to Galluzzo to take the Via Senese (the old road to Siena). We were already immersed in the Florentine Chianti area. Smog and cement were left behind. Before us, olive trees, vineyards and smooth green hills - exactly like 'A Room With A View'. In a small typical Italian grocery we bought two panini with parma-ham, fontina and pecorino cheese - our breakfast. So far we had drunk more than 2 litres of water, but we had to stop on the top of the hill near La Certosa, a medieval convent, to refresh from the heat with half a water-melon.

Climbing the hill to San Casciano was very tragic. A voice in my mind kept telling me - "it`s too hard, you`ll never make it." I tried to concentrate on breathing rhythmically with my pedalling to not listen. She was managing quite well. The five kilos more that I was dragging didn`t balance the gap as I thought, but favoured her - they seemed 100 kilos to me. I really wished I had an even lighter gear. Going down is a great part of the fun. I tried the most aero-dynamic position and to not touch the brakes to go faster and faster.

A loaded bicycle seems more stabile, but because of the weight, the centrafugal force tends to push out of the turn. I had to shift my body-weight on the inside of the turn to balance the forces to anticipate the turns. The speed was such that the wind brought tears to my eyes, even though I was wearing sun glasses. I could hardly see.

It was wicked - real adrenaline. The last climb before the camping in the river Elsa`s valley killed us. When we reached the plot where we could place our tent, we simply collapsed on the floor and lay down motionless. We started to laugh. We had done it! "Now who is going to set the tent ?" A work for a man. I found the last bit of energy and stood up to start to set our refuge for the night. "I feel reborn", she told me after her shower. She was right. The shower, what an invention! We felt fresh and clean, not only of dust, but of city's impurities as well. It was dark already. "Dinner ?" - I queried. We cycled to the pizzeria on the small village near the camp. It was crowded with locals who were having their usual Saturday pizza. We tied the pizza boxes on my bike rear pannier and put a bottle of Chianti we bought in my bottle holder.



The following morning we woke with the sun. The tiredness seemed to have gone. We were ready to cycle again. We decided to go to a small lake we knew. It was too hot, and the idea of swimming was attractive. We took a wild wood path to get closer to nature. The dust lifted by our wheels stuck to our sweaty faces. The high-pitched noise of cicadas was louder and louder. We had several siestas in the shadow and cool of the trees - our legs didn`t want to cycle any longer. We reached the lake without walking - something we couldn't have done with my car. No roads, no tourists, no noise. The only sign of civilisation were the castle of Rignana on the top of one of the hills that delimit the lake and a farm house surrounded by vineyards.

The trees, the frogs and the cool water of the lake were the main characters of such a painting. Our peace was only disturbed by the chatting of birds and the hourly bells of the village church. We let our bikes rest under the shadow of a pine and dived into the water. She was so overjoyed that she couldn`t help herself from kissing me. I swam from one side of the lake to the other just to see her smile and to gain a kiss. The lake was ours. We were ours. I felt like I could walk on the water for her. My shyness and introversion have always limited my feelings, but here, I could easily shout my happyness. In our way back the road seemed shorter. We stopped at a cafe before Florence for a huge panino. And a beer - we deserved it. After that, maybe because of the beer, we didn't stop for 15 miles. Cycle touring in the countryside it`s like to open a new window to get a new view and fresh air in the everyday life. It`s also a time for riviving neglected loves. The goal is worth the sweat and you will recharge your batteries. The dinner with our friends was great, but since then we`ve started to feel uneasy with coach potatoes. So we left soon after to be alone.

Felice Petrelli

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