Lake Como
The Mt. Blanc failure was a disappointment but I didn’t want to dwell on it too long. Although there was plenty to see and do in chamonix, especially if you are in to climbing, I wanted a change of scenery and left the next morning for Italy.
After a quick hop through a tunnel I found myself in Courmayuer, surrounded by equally stunning Alpine scenery. Ahead of me was an exciting 80km descent, speeding down wide and winding roads, at times faster than the local traffic.
The heat was stiffeling, as if crossing the border someone had turned up the thermostat, it was now an intense 38 degrees. Luckily the cycling was easy and the speed kept a breeze in my hair, but I was having to stop often for refreshing drinks and ice cream (its a hard life really!)
As evening approached i set my sights on Ponte St Martin, a way down the Aoste valley. I rolled in to town at dusk and asked a group of cyclists, a father and two sons, directions to the nearest camping. They kindly led my the 10km, the two young boys eager to prove the speed the could cycle at. My legs were up to the task and as the road opened up I pretended to race along side them, of course easing up to let them win in the end.
At the campsite there was a British couple of motorbikers. Upon seeing my bike we started to chat and they offered me some food. It was a nice evening sharing stories and eating until dark, before wishing each other good trips.
The next day was a flat 130km into Milan. There were a lot of cycle clubs making the most of the good weather and I was often able to attach myself to the back of their groups to get the benefit of the tow.
I stopped for lunch in the old town of Vercelli. I parked my bike outside a small bakery and had a look at the food on offer. I, of course, decided on pizza and ordered a large slice to keep me going. The couple who owned the bakery seemed very interested in the bike, and although they didn’t speak any English I was able to tell them that i’d ridden from London and a few of the places I’d been. They seemed excited and the longer we talked the more bits of food the lady added to my bag; focaccia bread, cakes, extra pizza and more. After five or ten minutes I left the shop with a warm handshake and a bag overflowing with deliously, freshly baked food.
I walked to the main square to find some shelter from the sun and a place to eat lunch. A guy stopped me to talk and it turned out he was also cycling by bicycle. After sharing some food we went to get his bike as we were heading in the same direction. He had a problem with his bike that I had never come across before – he had somehow managed to trap a sock in his rear derailer and chain. It was completly mangled in to the mechanism and showed no signs of freeing. We asked some local shops for scissors and eventually managed to cut the sock loose, he wasn’t very pleased though after telling me this was a sock from his only pair. We cycled the 20km together to the next town but it became very obvious our paces didn’t match and given i had a long day left to get to Milan we bid each other farewell in the town of Novara.
After a tough afternoon cycling in the heat I finally saw the Milan skyline start to rise from the horizon at around 6pm. The city was a nightmare to cycle, surviving the 3 lane highway into the centre the roads became a mess and it became increasingly difficult to navigate. After an hour I managed to find the first hostel, only to find that it was full. After finding an internet cafe I scribbled the address of a couple more onto my notepad, but with my iPhone out of battery and no maps of the city I had to rely on memory/asking people to find the way.
Duomo
As it got dark I was keen to get off the streets and find a bed. All of a sudden and completely by accident, as the sun was setting behind the last of the skyline, I found myself cycling into the main plaza and past the Duomo Cathederal. It was an incredible sight and perfect lighting for phots, lots of young people were sat on the steps drinking beer and playing music. It lifted my spirits but i still needed to find a place to sleep that night so I had to push on.
2 full hostels later, to my relief, I found one with a free bed. After a shower and the left over pizza from the bakery earlier I relaxed into the evening and even found another cyclist who gave me some advice on the mountain passes crossing back into switzerland. We went for a single beer, which turned out to be an a expensive excursion before retreating back to the hostel after a tiring day.
The next day I moved to the Zebra hostel, which seemed a bit more lively and I met a cool crowd of backpackers to hang out with. Milan certainly isn’t a city set up for budget travel so after a quick exploration of the city it was nice to relax into the evening, playing cards and drinking beers with my new friends.
I’d decided to head up to the Danube, which meant cycling North back in to Switzerland. This meant crossing the Alps again, passing either Lake Como or Lake Garda, from my research it seemed Moloja pass was the “easiest” option, although at 1800m, a full 1700m above Milan, it was a daunting prospect!
Monza
I took a slight detour the next morning to visit the formula one circuit at Monza. Situated in a giant park the famous track wound through the forests and greenery. I asked a runner for directions and he explained there was a way to sneak on to the old cicruit without paying the entrance fee.
I followed his directions below an underpass and found the broken gate he had told me about. Pushing my bike through I found myself on a forest track. Hidden on both sides by trees I cycled for a few km until I got to another gate, and after squeezing through was on the historic old monza track.
Monza old circuit
I rode up and down in both directions, each end blocked by a grandstand of the new circuit. I was able to climb up and sneak some photos of the track i’d seen on TV so many times. Cycling further around the forest I found the old banked curves and excitedly peddaled as fast as I could to ride up the steep curves. They were in fact so steep towards the top that I couldn’t rotate my pedals and would then turn back down the slope, as if cycling the velodrome. This kept me entertained for a good hour or two before the midday heat got to me and i realised i was way behind schedule.
I continued on empty roads towards Lake Como, eventually reaching the nice town of Lecco, on the southern shore of the Lake. Again another Italian cyclist guided me into the city after asking him directions – this was a nice improvement on the usual shady directions received.
I stopped in Lecco for a drink and a snack, it was around 4pm so I figured I could start up the lake, seeing how far I could get before dark when I could find a place to camp. The ride up the lake was stunning and in the heat I stopped everywhere I saw people swimming to jump in myself. The damp cycling clothes would keep me cool for another half an hour before feeling the heat again.
Sunset on Lake Como
As the sun set over the lake I approached the small town of Colico Piano on the Northern shore. This set me up with the perfect base to start the climbing the next morning, heading to Switzerland.
