Author: bengarbutt

Likey Lakey

Up and at ’em again this morning, hoping to get the miles in before the sun rises. I watched the dawn break over Lake Lugano from the comfort of my saddle. Hello!

Passing through to Italy (country number 6), I arrived at Lake Como, another stunner.

After having been around the southern tip of the lake my GPS unit told me to follow a railway track. One with no cycle path next to it.

Swearing at it for the first time today, I programmed in to Google maps a new ride to intercept the track further down the line. It was then, heading on a too-busy day road on the hard shoulder, that I realised the GPS had been telling me: “there are no decent cyclable roads out of Como, so take the train.”

It was only a couple of kilometres though, and I made it through ok.

But the planned route had more surprises in store for me. All the way through the Netherlands, Germany, France, and Switzerland, the Eurovelo routes I had been following were both well marked and well maintained. Italy takes a slightly different attitude to both waymarking and maintenance.

I was directed by the GPS through a very sparsely used single track overgrown by bramble thickets and nettles, until finally I reached a muddy bridleway at least. Was this actually the pan-European Eurovelo route? Confirmed with Google: yes!

There followed miles of forest trail, thankfully a bit wider and better kept. But in the heat of the day, the route skirted away from the towns and villages it passed. I ducked into a few to sell water and food but literally everything was shut.

Desperate for water, I spotted a bar/cafe in a petrol station. Local eyes turned to me as I bustled in, begging for water. Quiet fell.

The server behind the bar wasn’t happy with my hand signal that I would be perfectly happy with tap water rather than buying several tiny bottles that she offered. From the iced carafe of water tantalisingly out of reach she decided to give me a lesson. She filled both my bottles with only half the volume! I gestured: may I have a bit more please? But that was it. I’m not sure what lesson I was given, but I went on my way at least partially sated.

When I arrived in Milan after further swearing at my malfunctioning GPS unit and having to spend time at each and every turn to confirm the direction, I spent a fruitless two hours cycling around the city trying to find a cycle shop that was open. Milan feels like a ghost town, perhaps everyone is on holiday. I will have to persevere with the GPS unit for now it seems.