velotel
09-10-2014, 10:25 AM
The wife had to go to San Marino, meetings and stuff. Going was okay with me since we now do a stop on the way across Italy. This time it was going to be Bologna, which admittedly is damn near all the way to San Marino but that was okay too since I’ve been wanting to ride the hills there. We’d be seeing a friend who lives there. She’s supposed to have some kind of crazy place in the center of old Bologna. Plus I like Bologna, only been there once but that once was enough to put it high on my places I enjoy visiting.
Over the Col de Mont Cenis. I was dying to stop, get my bike out, ride it from Lancelebourg to Susa. Not enough time, not if I wanted to bag a quick ride out of Bologna, which I wanted to do. Stopped on the col for lunch, lot of motorcycles on the road. Down to Susa, has to be a fantastic descent. One day. On the autoroute heading west, cruise control engaged, the Suby running smooth and easy at 130 (80 mph), pulling down a steady 6,0/6,1 liters per 100 K (38/39 mpg). I used to cruise the autoroutes in Italy at 160 but now I’m old and most of the time in no hurry plus the eyes aren’t so good. Even better is cruising at 110/115 but when there’s traffic on the italian autoroutes, it’s easier to roll with the faster cars. Less lane changing.
Get to Bologna and head into the old city. This is when I can’t say enough good about gps systems in cars. Enter the address, follow the instructions. Until they get you to a road where the circulation has been changed, like we can’t turn right onto the road that the gps is telling us turn on. No problem, a little adlibbing while watching the map display and we get there. Fortunately my wife had called the hotel outside of town to verify the address and they’d told us to use the address for the back entrance because cars aren’t allowed at the front entrance.
Check in, bags in the room, pull the bike out of its soft case, slap the wheels in, change clothes, down to the desk, ask if he has a map of town and where are the hills. Tells me go out the front door, turn right, go straight, that will take me to the hills. Dusk is creeping in, beautiful light, I’m rolling down the cobbled street, weaving around lots of strollers. Regular moving maze. Lots of towns in other countries would probably ban riding bikes on streets like this one. Italy doesn’t bother. Just let people work it out, which everyone does with no problems. Live and let live, italian style.
I have no idea where I’m going since I cleverly left the map behind but the man said go straight and I’ll get to the hills so straight I go. Through the old town, narrow streets, past small plazas with tables and chairs filled with bodies drinking and talking and waiters rushing back and forth between the restaurants / bars and the tables. Buildings are almost all stone, most with the stone visible, some covered in stucco. Ochre and a dull, rusty red the dominant colors, might be brighter in the daylight, which it definitely isn’t now.
Buildings slowly start to change, looking steadily less old, all things being relative of course. Edge of center town, I can tell because the road is no longer closed to cars. Luckily there were people standing around talking at the transition and they forced me to go to one side to go past. Fortunately because behind them and not all that visible, especially to my eyes in the dusk, there’s a chain to keep cars from entering. Not entirely sure I would have seen it in time.
Hit a broad intersection with roads coming in from several directions. Decide to wait for the light to turn green. Italians drive fast even when they’re only 30 seconds from their destination and if the light just turned red on them, lots of them go into instant acceleration mode, even if they’re only going to the other side of the intersection. Must be in their DNA. Cross the intersection and all of sudden I’m in the suburbs, or kind of the equivalent to the suburbs one heck of a long time ago. Only here the houses aren’t tract homes and some of them are downright huge with large gardens behind high walls.
Road has angled up a wee bit from the flatness of the city, goes into a long bend, over a hump then down. Some small streets branching off to the right, all of them climbing up a steepish hillside. I stick to my directions and go straight. Get to a fork, right branch angling up the hill at a good grade, two signs pointing that way with the names of villages. The left branch is flat and disappears into a valley with no signs indicating anything out further. I go right. Steep going. Couple hundred meters later the road is completely closed, only lizards can get past. So much for that idea. Nothing around me, decide to take a moment and burn a pinch of herb. Seems like the right thing to do to celebrate riding in the hills of Bologna.
Back down to the fork, take the other branch. Road flat, narrow, curving left and right past tall houses backed up against the hillsides. Some of them are old, like maybe early century, others are modern with lots of glass and flat planes. Big trees shading everything. This is feeling really good, big ring, flying along, no one about, heading where I have no idea. Don’t care either. The going is more than enough. Houses becoming fewer and fewer, the road narrows, heads up onto the hill to the left. Around a bend and bingo, Italy for sure, the road looking like it’s threatening some double-digit climbing. Up the cogs, into climbing mode, find the rhythm, settle in, up through a stretched out S curve, grade eases. I like that. Fields and forests all I can see on either side. Around a bend to the left and the road ramps up hard. Up past an old farm house, family outside around a table under a huge shade tree. Around another bend to the right and I can see things getting lighter up ahead. Must be nearing the top of something.
I know I’m starting to push the time limit now as I’ve got all that distance to do going back and the light’s been fading steadily. But just a bit more, just to see what’s up around the next bend. Then just one more bend. The road starts to go limp, I can see out to both sides. This is looking like a very sweet ride, for tomorrow. Time to turn around. It’s a flyer going back. Real gravity plunge off the hill then big ring rolling all the way back to town. See the light’s green at the big intersection, out of the saddle, full sprint mode, crushing the pedals (okay, all things are relative) racing to beat the light. Goes orange just as I flash across. Into the old town, oops, don’t forget that bloody chain. Swerve right, left, dodging pedestrians, playing pinball with moving targets. All I can say is that this is totally cool. Back to the hotel, stroll in with a big smile, get a thumbs up from the guy behind the desk.
Shower, change, off to our friend’s. Normally I’d never write about going to someone’s house but in this case it wasn’t about going to someone’s house because this wasn’t what one, or at least I, normally think of as a house. Built in the 16th century as I recall, originally a palace. Our friend’s grandparents bought back in the 1800’s. Been slowly divided up since into different apartments though in truth that isn’t the word to use at all for them but I don’t know what other word to use. So, the huge palace has been divided up into a few smaller palaces. In through the entrance with a gate that’s at least 5 meters high. Up the stairs to her place. Inside, I’m looking around, basically speechless. We’re talking ceilings that are, what, 4 meters high, and painted. But not just painted in some color, no way, we’re talking real paintings with people and scenes and whatever. The ceiling consists of two intersecting arches which makes for four spaces for the paintings. Each of the rooms has a different motif. I’ve never seen anything like it. And I haven’t even mentioned the art hanging on the walls, or the sculptures, way beyond my experience, all of it. Quite the evening.
Afterwards she walks with us back to the hotel. This is a woman who’s around 75 and full of energy and here it is around midnight and she’s giving us a foot tour of her town. Very cool. And the place is still jumping. Crowds everywhere, hardly a table outside anywhere that isn’t crowded with young people drinking and talking and doing whatever young italians do in the summer at midnight in a wonderful city.
Morning, I’m up early, sneak out so my wife can sleep. Breakfast, back up, change, grab the bike, out again, but this time I turn left instead of right. But only because I want to check out the huge plaza surrounded by churches and what were originally palaces. Crowds of tourists following guides around like chickens following someone tossing out grain. Back to the road the hotel is on, same direction as the before, only this time I skip the climb to the dead end where the road construction is. Up the hill and past where I turned around. Road keeps climbing, mostly moderate grades from there up. Views back down towards Bologna. If it was clear I could see the Alps in the background but clear it isn’t, not even close. Get to an intersection, road back to the right goes up, I take that. This time I’ve got a map with me and see that I can do a loop if I want. Figure I’ll wait until I’m on top to decide.
The top is a ridge, to the left hills and valleys stretching to the south, to the right the valley dropping down to Bologna. Look at the map again, check the time, loop is definitely doable but might take longer than I think and we’ve still got some driving to do. Plus I know going back down what I rode up is going to be sweetness all the way. But just to be sure, I keep going forward and down the back side, just to check that it really was the top where I was. It was. Turn around, ride back up, plunge back down what I rode up. Nothing but sweetness, all the way back to the hotel.
Just a small ride, an appetizer for a return someday in the undefined future. The hills of Bologne, definitely worth checking out. And Bologna definitely the place to base out of if you want a bit of life after riding. Great town. I was told that there are more arcades in Bologna than in any other city in Europe, 42 km of them, all built with arched openings along the streets and the classic ceiling formed by two intersecting arches. Apparently most of them were painted long ago but now only the one in front of the Bank of Italy building is. Gorgeous. The whole damn town is gorgeous in fact. Oh yea, and the food is good there too. But then this is Italy so of course the food is good.
Some pics
Over the Col de Mont Cenis. I was dying to stop, get my bike out, ride it from Lancelebourg to Susa. Not enough time, not if I wanted to bag a quick ride out of Bologna, which I wanted to do. Stopped on the col for lunch, lot of motorcycles on the road. Down to Susa, has to be a fantastic descent. One day. On the autoroute heading west, cruise control engaged, the Suby running smooth and easy at 130 (80 mph), pulling down a steady 6,0/6,1 liters per 100 K (38/39 mpg). I used to cruise the autoroutes in Italy at 160 but now I’m old and most of the time in no hurry plus the eyes aren’t so good. Even better is cruising at 110/115 but when there’s traffic on the italian autoroutes, it’s easier to roll with the faster cars. Less lane changing.
Get to Bologna and head into the old city. This is when I can’t say enough good about gps systems in cars. Enter the address, follow the instructions. Until they get you to a road where the circulation has been changed, like we can’t turn right onto the road that the gps is telling us turn on. No problem, a little adlibbing while watching the map display and we get there. Fortunately my wife had called the hotel outside of town to verify the address and they’d told us to use the address for the back entrance because cars aren’t allowed at the front entrance.
Check in, bags in the room, pull the bike out of its soft case, slap the wheels in, change clothes, down to the desk, ask if he has a map of town and where are the hills. Tells me go out the front door, turn right, go straight, that will take me to the hills. Dusk is creeping in, beautiful light, I’m rolling down the cobbled street, weaving around lots of strollers. Regular moving maze. Lots of towns in other countries would probably ban riding bikes on streets like this one. Italy doesn’t bother. Just let people work it out, which everyone does with no problems. Live and let live, italian style.
I have no idea where I’m going since I cleverly left the map behind but the man said go straight and I’ll get to the hills so straight I go. Through the old town, narrow streets, past small plazas with tables and chairs filled with bodies drinking and talking and waiters rushing back and forth between the restaurants / bars and the tables. Buildings are almost all stone, most with the stone visible, some covered in stucco. Ochre and a dull, rusty red the dominant colors, might be brighter in the daylight, which it definitely isn’t now.
Buildings slowly start to change, looking steadily less old, all things being relative of course. Edge of center town, I can tell because the road is no longer closed to cars. Luckily there were people standing around talking at the transition and they forced me to go to one side to go past. Fortunately because behind them and not all that visible, especially to my eyes in the dusk, there’s a chain to keep cars from entering. Not entirely sure I would have seen it in time.
Hit a broad intersection with roads coming in from several directions. Decide to wait for the light to turn green. Italians drive fast even when they’re only 30 seconds from their destination and if the light just turned red on them, lots of them go into instant acceleration mode, even if they’re only going to the other side of the intersection. Must be in their DNA. Cross the intersection and all of sudden I’m in the suburbs, or kind of the equivalent to the suburbs one heck of a long time ago. Only here the houses aren’t tract homes and some of them are downright huge with large gardens behind high walls.
Road has angled up a wee bit from the flatness of the city, goes into a long bend, over a hump then down. Some small streets branching off to the right, all of them climbing up a steepish hillside. I stick to my directions and go straight. Get to a fork, right branch angling up the hill at a good grade, two signs pointing that way with the names of villages. The left branch is flat and disappears into a valley with no signs indicating anything out further. I go right. Steep going. Couple hundred meters later the road is completely closed, only lizards can get past. So much for that idea. Nothing around me, decide to take a moment and burn a pinch of herb. Seems like the right thing to do to celebrate riding in the hills of Bologna.
Back down to the fork, take the other branch. Road flat, narrow, curving left and right past tall houses backed up against the hillsides. Some of them are old, like maybe early century, others are modern with lots of glass and flat planes. Big trees shading everything. This is feeling really good, big ring, flying along, no one about, heading where I have no idea. Don’t care either. The going is more than enough. Houses becoming fewer and fewer, the road narrows, heads up onto the hill to the left. Around a bend and bingo, Italy for sure, the road looking like it’s threatening some double-digit climbing. Up the cogs, into climbing mode, find the rhythm, settle in, up through a stretched out S curve, grade eases. I like that. Fields and forests all I can see on either side. Around a bend to the left and the road ramps up hard. Up past an old farm house, family outside around a table under a huge shade tree. Around another bend to the right and I can see things getting lighter up ahead. Must be nearing the top of something.
I know I’m starting to push the time limit now as I’ve got all that distance to do going back and the light’s been fading steadily. But just a bit more, just to see what’s up around the next bend. Then just one more bend. The road starts to go limp, I can see out to both sides. This is looking like a very sweet ride, for tomorrow. Time to turn around. It’s a flyer going back. Real gravity plunge off the hill then big ring rolling all the way back to town. See the light’s green at the big intersection, out of the saddle, full sprint mode, crushing the pedals (okay, all things are relative) racing to beat the light. Goes orange just as I flash across. Into the old town, oops, don’t forget that bloody chain. Swerve right, left, dodging pedestrians, playing pinball with moving targets. All I can say is that this is totally cool. Back to the hotel, stroll in with a big smile, get a thumbs up from the guy behind the desk.
Shower, change, off to our friend’s. Normally I’d never write about going to someone’s house but in this case it wasn’t about going to someone’s house because this wasn’t what one, or at least I, normally think of as a house. Built in the 16th century as I recall, originally a palace. Our friend’s grandparents bought back in the 1800’s. Been slowly divided up since into different apartments though in truth that isn’t the word to use at all for them but I don’t know what other word to use. So, the huge palace has been divided up into a few smaller palaces. In through the entrance with a gate that’s at least 5 meters high. Up the stairs to her place. Inside, I’m looking around, basically speechless. We’re talking ceilings that are, what, 4 meters high, and painted. But not just painted in some color, no way, we’re talking real paintings with people and scenes and whatever. The ceiling consists of two intersecting arches which makes for four spaces for the paintings. Each of the rooms has a different motif. I’ve never seen anything like it. And I haven’t even mentioned the art hanging on the walls, or the sculptures, way beyond my experience, all of it. Quite the evening.
Afterwards she walks with us back to the hotel. This is a woman who’s around 75 and full of energy and here it is around midnight and she’s giving us a foot tour of her town. Very cool. And the place is still jumping. Crowds everywhere, hardly a table outside anywhere that isn’t crowded with young people drinking and talking and doing whatever young italians do in the summer at midnight in a wonderful city.
Morning, I’m up early, sneak out so my wife can sleep. Breakfast, back up, change, grab the bike, out again, but this time I turn left instead of right. But only because I want to check out the huge plaza surrounded by churches and what were originally palaces. Crowds of tourists following guides around like chickens following someone tossing out grain. Back to the road the hotel is on, same direction as the before, only this time I skip the climb to the dead end where the road construction is. Up the hill and past where I turned around. Road keeps climbing, mostly moderate grades from there up. Views back down towards Bologna. If it was clear I could see the Alps in the background but clear it isn’t, not even close. Get to an intersection, road back to the right goes up, I take that. This time I’ve got a map with me and see that I can do a loop if I want. Figure I’ll wait until I’m on top to decide.
The top is a ridge, to the left hills and valleys stretching to the south, to the right the valley dropping down to Bologna. Look at the map again, check the time, loop is definitely doable but might take longer than I think and we’ve still got some driving to do. Plus I know going back down what I rode up is going to be sweetness all the way. But just to be sure, I keep going forward and down the back side, just to check that it really was the top where I was. It was. Turn around, ride back up, plunge back down what I rode up. Nothing but sweetness, all the way back to the hotel.
Just a small ride, an appetizer for a return someday in the undefined future. The hills of Bologne, definitely worth checking out. And Bologna definitely the place to base out of if you want a bit of life after riding. Great town. I was told that there are more arcades in Bologna than in any other city in Europe, 42 km of them, all built with arched openings along the streets and the classic ceiling formed by two intersecting arches. Apparently most of them were painted long ago but now only the one in front of the Bank of Italy building is. Gorgeous. The whole damn town is gorgeous in fact. Oh yea, and the food is good there too. But then this is Italy so of course the food is good.
Some pics