Stage 13: Ferrara to Asolo

I've been so distracted with the Tour of California that I woke up this morning not realizing that today is the Asolo Stage! I have biked here, down from the town--not up a 7% grade to Monte Grappa, as the riders did today, but I've been here. And I've biked here just at this time of year.

A strange thing I remembered yesterday--climbing up the 2-mile hill that wound back and forth to Asolo and as I got slower I could see that wild strawberries were growing out of the stone walls on the right--and they looked ripe. Of course I was up on the pedals just trying to drag myself up the hill and worried that when we were done with this climb, Stoney was going to kill me. It had been our longest day--50 miles, and it was in the middle of a heat wave. But by the end of the day, following our directions on paper inside a plastic sleeve attached to our handlebars, we knew how long a kilometer was in the flats, just by feel.

Before we got to the climb up to Asolo we made our way towards the foothills of the Dolomites through fields, some ploughed, some green, some full of yellow and red wildflowers. On that day we noticed there are field planted with neat rows of young trees--they must be there to break the wind, but they looked surreal. We came across old men on bikes going to churches and weddings in suits. It was Sunday and it was May, and apparently there are many weddings in the Veneto in May.

We'd visited the Villa Emo, a villa designed by Palladio in the mid-1500s, and it's pretty much the first time in house archeticture where you see the modern house--no fortifications, no slits through which to pour hot oil and melted lead. Just a house--but it's based on ancient Roman architectural element, so the main part looks a bit like a temple, but inside the proportions are so comfortable. The frescoes inside are ridiculously beautiful, so it's not that this place isn't an extravagent country house, it's just that we could imagine hanging out there and having a great time. You can visit many Palladian villas in the Veneto. This area was the part of Italy most often ruled by Venice. I say most often because in times past, Venice, Florence and Milan would pass these towns back and forth during times of war.

During this time period the wealthy families of the Veneto built villas in the countryside so they could get out of Venice during the pestilent summer. Now tourists flock to Venice in the summer. So do the mosquitoes. It's much better in the early spring--after the big floods--and the late fall.

Today, have some prosecco. The Bortolomiol bottle above shows the traditional bell-shaped bottle for Prosecco, but you can almost never find that bottle here in the states. If you find a bottle like that, buy it. For the uninitiated, Prosecco is a naturally sparkling Italian wine. It's dry and delicious. Should not be too sweet. Get the Brut-style, which is like champagne, except, in my opinion, is much better!

Or have a spritz--a coctail made with one of 3 possible kinds of bitters, and prosecco, and maybe a splash of club soda, and a slice of orange--blood orange, if you can find it. The 3 bitters are, from sweetest to most bitter: Aperol, Campari, and Cynar. These are all kind of like the bitterness of orange peel, except Cynar is made with Artichokes! All are an acquired taste, but once you acquire it, that bitterness is very refreshing on a hot day. And we had lots of hot days in the Veneto.

Stoney and I did a wine tasting in the Valdobbiadene area, which is one of the two areas where real prosecco is made, and we were greatly surprised to be trying 6 varieties of prosecco that all tasted quite different. They had filled one of each bottle with earth from the region that the grapes were from, and even the color of the earth was different. Those fields of prosecco grapes climbing up cliffs, row upon row upon row.

At every breakfast in the Veneto they had meats and cheeses, and the best cured meat was the speck, which is the leanest and smokiest part of the prosciutto ham. It's called speck, a Germanic word, because it's basically an Austro-Hungarian style of cured ham. It's a great morning pick-me-up before a long day in the saddle.Once Venice lost its Mojo sometime in the 18th century, its territories were often conquered by the Austro-Hungarian Empire, and so in this area, the higher you get into the mountains, the more folks speak a kind of local German. There is also a small area around Cortina (fancy ski resort) where people speak a language called Ladin. Ladin is supposed to be the closest surviving language related to Latin. This area had a pass used by the Romans to get into Germania, and they left this language behind, and then this area was cut off from the rest of the world effectively for thousands of years. This kind of stuff just blows my mind. It's like a real Shangri-La or Brigadoon.

The Veneto is also studded with very moving monuments to the WWI and WWII battles and casualties. It was from the Dolomites that the Italians defended their land against their enemies, and many were lost, and people still live there with memories of battles and devastation we can barely imagine. The Alpini are mountain troops--local soldiers, and they wear hats that, I swear, look like Peter Pan's--with feathers. They are much honored still in annual parades, and Alpini fly into this area from all over the world to be part of it.

Truly a rich and fantastic part of Italy. Don't go there. We want it all to ourselves. ;)

Viva il Veneto!

Viva il Giro! Viva Italia!

A domani!

Stage 13: Marco Pantani and Romagna

Today's pairing is a glass of Aulente Sangiovese di Romagna, with some local salumi--cured meats, and some great local pecorino--sheep's milk cheese from Romagna.

I'm watching Stage 13, which ends in Cesenatico, the home town of Italian cycling legend Marco Pantani. He was a phenomenal mountain climber and was able to beat Lance in his prime. But he suffered from depression and drug abuse and was brought low by doping allegations, some of which were proven. He died of a cocaine overdose on 2004. He is the classic Italian tragic hero, named the Pirate because of the bandana and earring he wore. Today's stage is dedicated to him. Did I mention that each stage of the Giro is dedicated to an Italian cycling legend?

This stage mostly hugs the Adriatic again, passing through Pesaro and Rimini, to veer into the foothills of the Appenines before a downhill finish in Cesenatico. Rimini is the beach resort hometown of Federico Fellini, the ultimate Mamma's boy with issues, who filmed I Vitelloni in Rimini. If you've never seen a Fellini film, rent 8 1/2. Marcello Mastrioianni is wonderful as the tortured spoiled director. The fantasy sequences and the music are so evocative. The misogyny is palpable, and somehow charmingly quaint.

Pesaro was the duchy of Giovanni Sforza, the first husband of Lucrezia Borgia, and Lucrezia spent many festive weeks there, out of the orbit of her Pope father, Alexander VI, who was wreaking havoc between the royal families of Milan and Naples, and playing the kings of Spain and France against each other.

The climbing part of today's stage shows hills blanketed with green patchwork fields, and stone houses with uneven terra cotta tile roofs. So typically Italian. As I said to my husband after one too many climbs over softly rolling green hills--boy was I tired after 5 days of cycling--"Yeah, Italy—it's LOUSY with beauty." It's important to stay hydrated when you go on a cycling vacation. Maybe the midday bottle of prosecco wasn't such a good idea during a heat wave. But it sure was delicious and refreshing! We each had a water bottle in a cage on our bikes, and in every town there was a fountain or a spigot with wonderful natural spring water. This is a wonderfully civilized thing. They also have drinking fountains shaped like lovely curvaceous green women all over Paris. We need that here. Not some sketchy tap water coming out of a fountain that just won't give enough water to quench your thirst. Just for the record, Bike Riders said the Veneto is flat. It isn't. 2 miles straight up into to Asolo. Oy.

Lots of attacks and still 22k from the finish. Some fisticuffs between Cadel and a Lampre rider yesterday. What's that all about? The Hobbit is on edge. No one expected this year's Giro to look like this. It's been completely unpredictable. But I think the mountains will change that. Or maybe not. Keeps it interesting.

This past fall I visited Ravenna with my family. It was not what I'd expected. So much brick everywhere. Late Roman brick? The Byzantine Empire ruled Italy from there, and you have to see San Vitale--the soaring circular church with colored marble and alabaster stone windows. The glimmering gilded mosaics of Justinian and Theodora, who ruled the Empire in the first half of the 6th century. I always find this era hard to grasp and visualize. I'm reading a book called "Sailing from Byzantium" that talks about how learning and high culture was preserved in Constantinople. Cool stuff. To think that in a way, the Roman Empire never really fell--it just moved east and survived until finally, Sultan Mehmed II and his army of Turks ended it all in 1453. Another way to think of it is that the Roman Empire continued in the Catholic Church, and so it has never really fallen at all.

10k to go and the cyclists wind through olive groves and vineyards. Maybe those are San Giovese grapes, but the wine won't taste like it does in Tuscany or Abruzzo. Each area has its own unique clones of the grapes, and they make the wine in their own way so when you go to any region of Italy, you will find wine you simply can't buy here. The locals drink it and don't export it because it's so good they don't need to export it. There isn't any left. In Venice, we fell in love with a drink called a Spritz--it's prosecco and Campari with a slice of blood orange. We drank it all through the Veneto. But then we took the train down through the Appenines to Orvieto. We tried to order a Spritz there, and they had no idea what we were talking about. So we had to try the local Orvieto classico. Which paired so well with the slices of cured filet of wild boar. Yummy! Such wonderful cultural diversity. It's called Campanilismo in Italy, which means not knowing or caring about anything that goes on beyond the sound of your own village church bells. It is a wonderful wonderful thing, although Italians complain about it. But it preserves local food and wine, and even local language and crafts.

Viva il Campanilismo!

Viva il Giro! Viva Italia!

A domani!

P.S. Manuel Belleti won today's stage. He's 24. He was born 10 miles from the finish line. It's his first professional win ever. A stage of the Giro d'Italia. He is clearly flipping out, and as he takes the top step of the podium, gets the silly mountain goat stuffed animal and the kisses of the podium babes, he is openly weeping. I love this sport! I love this Bel Paese!

Say it ain't so, Lance!

OMG! I am going to the Amgen Tour of California Time Trial in Downtown L.A. Saturday.  Can I just say how devastated I am that Lance crashed out of the race today?

And Floyd’s ‘Roids, what a crappy day for cycling, IMHO! If you can’t improve the sport, then STFU, Floyd!

Get better fast, Mr. Armstrong! Go Levi!

A domani!

Stage 12: Along the Adriatic

Today's stage could end in a sprint finish where we are sure to see our friend Tyler Farrar and Garmin hitting it hard.

This is a flat stage, along the lovely Adriatic, which, for much of its modern history was ruled by the Republic of Venice. Venice, so influenced in its heyday of the 11th, 12th and 13th century by the Byzantine Empire. And so, in San Marco--on famous Piazza San Marco, the center of Venice, there are those glimmering gold mosaic tiles, so wonderful at reflecting candle light.

A game I like to play with myself whenever I'm in Italy is to find a monument and project myself back in time to when the monument was built. So in the Pantheon in Rome, I imagine men in togas followed by their retinues of slaves, paying homage to their pagan gods. In Venice, I imagine Casanova in the decadent late duds of velvet, lace and powdered wigs, or Piazza San Marco swarming--like it is today--with people from all over the world. Except I imagine the turbaned turks, the clerics in long red robes and wide-brimmed red hats. Today people complain about the pigeons in St. Mark's square, but imagine it with refuse of all kinds. How did they keep it clean, say, in the medieval era? Venice today is great in the early morning, when workboats full of all of the basics of life--sodas, oranges and other produce, and almost anything else a tourist could need, enter the floating city to refuel it after its night of revelry.

The tour heads into Le Marche, where they drink Verdicchio--a grassy white wine, and where they grow all kinds of cereal crops and have a thriving cattle industry. This area was part of the Medieval and Renaissance struggle between Pope and Holy Roman Emperor that produced the Guelphs and the Ghibellines. They say that Le Marche is a great place to buy yourself a house, now that the Brits and wealthy Americans have jacked up housing prices in Tuscany and Umbria.

But I've driven down from Ravenna through the Appenines, and those mountains are really formidable--high and even the autostrada seem to be winding and perilous. I might need to buy my house in Lazio so I wouldn't have some huge mountains in between me and my beloved Roma.

Yesterday the GC competition blew apart bigtime and most of the top ten are newbie twentysomethings on their first Grand Tour. They will not make it through the mountains. The only seasoned GC guy in range is Carlos Sastre. He was amazing in the mountains last year, particularly on the Vesuvius stage. My money is now on him, although I treasure a bit of hope for our Hobbity Cadel Evans. Would love to see what he can do in the the Dolomites. Can he climb back up from being 11 minutes back? Probably not. It will be awesome to see him try.

Next week is a stage from Ferrara--Italian bike city--to Asolo, which is a gorgeous hill town in the Veneto, and I've been there. Guys in their seventies ride bikes up there every morning, dressed in fancy hideously garish bike kit, and they are in better shape than I will ever be.

Biking to work today. Stopping at a pitstop to maybe win me a Dahon folding bike. They have the coolest machines--one with a front hub that will power your lights, and your iPhone! That one's for me! Wish me luck!

Viva il Giro! Viva Italia!

A domani!

L'Aquila in the Rain

That yellow rain vest sure does clash with Vinokourov's pink jersey. I
just can't get excited about a doper in pink. This year not so much
with the fully matching outfits for the various jersey competitors.
Must be the economy. Today's is the longest stage. Must really suck in
the rain.

Helicopter shots show still so many ruined buildings. Italian word of
today: terremoto=earthquake. You can't easily retrofit say, an entire
village built in 1293.

Uphill finish. 13k to go. Every guy looks exhausted and soaking wet.
They have to eat more to keep warm.

Forza!

Sent from my iPhone

Stage 11: Bike Schizophenia

So this is Bike to Work Week and this morning the Giro stage was pretty exciting, so I only had time to get my bike and bike outfit ready, pump the tires, oil the chain and get on the road. So no morning stage pairing.

Tomorrow the stage winds up along the Adriatic from Lucera in Puglia to L'Aquila. Lucera was the last stronghold of Muslims in Italy in the 13th Century, before they were thrown out. At the time, most of the farmers were Muslims and so once they were gone there was a deadly famine there. Score one for diversity and karma being a naughty naughty girl. Saffron is a big export of Lucera, as it is in most parts of the Mediterranean where Arabs have held sway.

For wine I chose a Copertino, a lovely Pugliese red, and a wonderful kind of vegetarian lasagna, called Tiella della Suocera--mother-in-law casserole. It's potatoes, tomatoes, eggplant, cheese. What could be bad?

Looking at the list of wines officially recognized in Puglia could make you dizzy. I haven't mentioned yet this year, but I need to do it--in Italy there are some 3500 different species of grapes used to make wine. 3500 that they know about. This number is shrinking as more big consortia buy out the little guys and reduce the number of kinds of grapes that are grown, but you have to think that somewhere a grandfather is passing vines on to his granddaughter or grandson, and those species are going to live on in someone's local backyard vino.

Another thing I need to mention this year is this, wherever you are, just order the house wine. It's better than anything else. And it may come out of a spigot in the wall. It may be unfiltered, but it is magic. Cheap and good. You don't need to eat fancy food in Italy, because the best food is what Mamma makes, and where the Carabinieri eat. If you are fancy and need to go to fancy places, maybe you should stay in the USA, or go to France. But in Italy there's no reason to spend money like that to have an awesome dining experience. And why spend a lot? You already spent a lot just getting there! Try the walking around pizza, the panino in the case, the fried rice balls stuffed with mozzarella. Or if you must sit down to eat, just order the appetizers. They are the best thing on the menu anyway. There's that rant done.

L'Aquila, tomorrow's finish line city, had a devastating earthquake in 2009. One of the major Italian cycling teams had "Abruzzo" stamped onto their uniforms and donated a portion of their proceeds--such as they were--to rebuild the town last year. The picture above shows how terrible the damage was. George Clooney moved the production of a film he was working on in order to help L'Aquila out. Italy loves George Clooney. And he loves it right back!

L'Aquila was the second city of the Kingdom of Naples, which for many years in the Middle Ages and the Renaissance and Baroque eras was ruled by Bourbon kings. When it wasn't ruled by relatives of the Spanish royal family. When a King of Naples died, the Pope decided who should next get the crown. Which made the Pope even more powerful than you would think the Pope would be. Because he was, after all, the Pope. This network of royal families all vying to dominate parts of Italy is just fascinating to read about. It's a soap opera on a grand grand scale!

Watching stage 10 as I write this. Lots of fans out on the course today. RAI is doing its thing and showing the faces of pretty local girls in between shots of pedaling skinny guys. It's a different experience watching it in Italian. You don't get the real sense of the race if you only watch the American feed. I love the clips of folks waiting and partying at the finish line in their silly hats and outfits. Yes, I'm a cycling nerd. Deal with it. The peloton pushes forward through rolling fields of olive trees.

So in the Giro the leader in each jersey competition at the start of each stage gets a girl--very hot--wearing a dress in the color of that jersey and carrying a parasol in that color to shield him from the sun as he waits for the stage to roll out. This makes for some nice looking TV pictures. My husband likes that.

Bike to Work Week, the Giro d'Italia, and the Tour of California, all in one week! This is bike schizophrenia. Maybe next year I take a staycation on this week to deal with all my biking commitments!

Viva il Giro! Viva Italia!

Oh, and Go, Levi Leipheimer and Team Radioshack!

A domani!

Stage 10: Avellino to Bitonto

Tomorrow's stage takes the riders from the Tirrenian sea above Paestum to the Adriatic in Puglia. In the ancient world this entire area was a colony of Greece and so in Paestum there are ancient Greek temples, and the food, culture and music are still strongly influenced by Greece. But after the Roman empire fell, first the Lombards and then the Normans conquered these lands and exploited the local people.

Nowadays they grow lots of wonderful produce in Puglia--tomatoes, peppers, olives. And Bitonto is famous for its olive oil.

For this stage, have a calzone--a doughy turnover with veggies on top and cheese in the middle, and a glass of Primitivo--a simple but delicious IGT wine from Puglia. Or, if you can get it, try some sea urchin.

Viva il Giro! Viva Italia

A domani!