Italy

Italy is stunning, with a history and culture so famous and ubiquitous that it can be easy to take it for granted. I mean, is there a village in Italy without a castle or fresco by some genius of the Renaissance? But it is also mountainous and not well-organized, so it favours the more resourceful cyclotourist, especially the remoter and less populated regions further south.

For my blog cycling Italy, including the Via Francigena North and South, see Omnes Viae Romam Perducunt.

What to expect:

Mapping and Traffic

The maps are….unpredictable. It doesn’t make much difference which you choose since they seem to be based on the same information. There are usually Michelin (1 : 200,000 - 1 cm to 2 km ) widely available in city bookshops, but I personally prefer the Touring Club Italiano or the Instituto Geografico DeAgostini (1: 200,000 or 1: 250,000) if you can find them; they are not always easy to locate.

There are larger scale (1:50,000) maps available (Check out Instituto Geografico Centrale), particularly of the Alpine regions - the German maps (Kompass and Freytag and Berdnt) of this area are particularly good. Perhaps because they are further away from the alpine playgrounds, maps of Sardinia and the South are significantly less available or reliable. But, as with a lot about Italy, all the maps can’t quite be relied on: small local roads probably won’t be marked and nor will the numerous località (hamlets) of the ‘main’ village (bourg), so road signs can get frustrating.

Just to make matters worse - Italy is a hilly country - you will be called upon to use your judgement in assessing routes uphill, because the maps may or may not mark gradients. If the road is going straight up an old volcano with a lake in the middle, you can bet it will be particularly steep, and that you will descend from the top into the crater. None of this will be obvious from the map unless you are a bit of a geographer.

The problem is particularly – and annoyingly – true of yellow (‘B’ roads- known in Italy as strada provinciale and denoted with SP) and white (‘C’ - strada alla campagna) roads, which as cyclists you should be choosing. Avoid red ‘A’ roads (strada stat ale: SS) like the plague. Italy is a lot more crowded than France and because of the hills the fastest and busiest way from A to B will be focused on the one road which follows the valley floor.

Likewise, don’t trust that white (‘C’) roads will be metalled. Chances are they might be partly gravel track, or turn into gravel track after a few miles. For all they love their cars, the Italians will take them anywhere and these tracks can go on for mile after mile, especially in the more remote parts of southern Italy.

Nor is signage particularly brilliant. I’d advise fitting a compass to check you really are heading the way you thought you were. Because there are lots of local roads which aren’t on the maps, and signs are variable, it isn’t that hard to go very wrong, even for those with the best sense of direction.

All that said, it is difficult to beat cycling through the olive groves and vineyards and for all that Italians have a bad reputation for breaking traffic laws, they are generally pretty considerate drivers when it comes to cyclists. Indeed, I do not joke when I tell my friends that I’d rather cycle in Rome than in Cambridge.

Tourist infrastructure

Informazione e Accoglienza Turistica

Tourist offices are…well…nigh on useless, unless you like collecting oodles and oodles of brochures. Except where they are fantastic, that is. (This is the story of Italy.) There are lots of different versions – Pro Loco, Informazione e Accoglienza Turistica - so they aren’t as easy to spot or even ask for as their French counterparts. Nor are they really logically located. On the edge of town on some run down backstreet seems to be a particular favourite location. Even when you’re there, they probably won’t help you find accommodation – they will give you a list of addresses and telephone numbers, though. Those may or may not have a price attached or a map to locate them. Don’t count on their opening when they say they will. Or on their speaking English – but then, why should they?

In short, it is much less stressful to have a back-up plan – a smart phone and some Italian, plus a willingness to ask a priest or anybody else for that matter to help. Because the natural consequence of having official things which don’t work well is that individual people are utterly amazing. I've had local shop owners, priests and numerous random strangers pull out their telefonino to find me a place to stay.

A word about accommodation: it is widely known in Italy and on the continent, but less so in Britain, that convents and monasteries operate as basic B & Bs in several places. They are usually known as Casa per Ferie – although this term also encompasses other things – but if you ask at the tourist office in main cities (Florence, Rome, Siena etc.), they will certainly furnish you with a list. I usually found something by asking about camera con le suore or ospitalità religiosa; there's a website in English, though (typically) it isn't comprehensive. The best thing about the Casa per Ferie – even better than the price – is that they are usually centrally situated in some ancient building. I stayed a couple of streets away from Florence Cathedral for less than 40 Euros per night.

Landscape

Apart from the Po valley, and the coastal flats around the Agro Pontino, Capuan and Puglia plain, Italy is pretty much a festival of hills. Just because they are not the Alps, don't underestimate the Appenines, especially south of Rome. Bouncing up and down 400 m or so between each hilltop village is much, much more demoralising and tiring than climbing an Alp. It's also hot and dry - the south is particularly arid - and rural depopulation means there aren't necessarily lots of people about.

The North

Liddes, Great St. Bernard Pass

Obviously, the north is dominated by the Alps, and Italy boasts some of the best and highest of the alpine passes: the Stelvio, the Grand San Bernardo, the Col d’Agnello in the Gran Paradiso. If you’re planning on col bagging, then you’ll need to focus on late June, July, August and September, though snow isn’t that unusual at the beginning and end of that period and storms can happen any time.

To know what you're letting yourself in for, you might like to check out climbbybike. 

If you’re not planning on col bagging, but still want to do some work, then the Valle d’Aosta, the lakes area and Trentino Adige offer a lot of up and down climbing across tributaries with stunning scenary. Be aware, however, that the main roads, as ever in Italy, are particularly busy, as the landscape means that there aren’t a lot of options for traffic. The scenary is the great draw but there is also more than one or two feudal bastions perched on the hilltops, guarding the strategic passes over the mountains.

Upper Po Valley / Piedmont

I particularly like Piedmont and the Alta padana (upper reaches of the Po river). Relatively flat but

Saluzzo

with some steep hills at the edges, and glorious little towns like Pinerolo and Saluzzo, and little known artistic feasts like Lagnasco and Manta castles. Further west is Turin – a great city to cycle in and out of thanks to the boulevard roads with lanes for slower, local traffic. Plus a large number of royal palaces, thanks to the Lords of Piedmont also being former Kings of Italy. To the east of Turin in the wine country of Langhe and Montferrato, with relentless rolling up to about 800 m. Looks fabulous, with its cross hatched slopes of Nebbiolo vines, but you’ll feel it in your thighs.

Further east along the Po is the Bassa Padana, it is surprisingly lovely – endless gold and green fields of rice and maize, with the occasional black poplars and garziae (heron sanctuary) popping above the horizon. It is very, very humid in summer, though, and when it’s not, it’s windy. In late autumn and winter it is also foggy and polluted (especially towards Venice). The towns, however, make it all worthwhile: Pavia (former imperial capital, Visconti castle etc.) Mantua (Ducal castle of the Gonzagas, famously the set for Verdi's Rigoletto), Parma, home of Corregio and Parmigianino… I could go on and on and on... 

Central Italy (north of Rome)

Perseus by Cellini, Piazza Signoria, Florence

Central Italy is dominated by the Appenines, so all those lovely little Tuscan villages and Umbrian towns come only to those who put in the effort. The hills pretty much start south of Parma, and run down to the very bottom of the boot, so the only way of avoiding them in to stick along the coastline, which south of the stunning Cinque Terra (steep cliffs), isn’t always very pretty, being frequently over-developed with sea-side resorts. Once again, the main roads (SS: strade statale) will be crowded, though the gradients are likely to be gentler as they tend to climb up valleys or contour. The strada alla campagna and provincial roads (strada provinciale: SP) can sometimes be relentless in their up and down and round and round perambulations. Be prepared. There isn’t a lot of shelter from woodland, except in specific places, like Chianti, and the sun can be relentless and exhausting. You'll need lots of sunblock.

Central Italy (south of Rome)

The same pretty much applies: it’s mountainous and steep, with a fringe of lower lying coastline.

As well as the Appenine ridge you also have more ancient volcanoes with lakes in the middle. They are particularly killing, as you climb up to the rim, descend to the lake, then have to climb out of them. You might want to contour around and give the lake a miss if you’re fed up with going up and down all the time. (But then, if you’re going to get fed up of going up and down, you might want to go somewhere other than Italy!).

There are lower lying areas: south of Rome is what used to be the Pontine marshes. The route to Gaeta via Latina is therefore pancake flat and very speedy. Not fabulous scenary though and leaving Rome is awful peri-urban sprawl for mile after mile. The Capuan plain, likewise, is flatter – though it does undulate – as is the area around Naples. But Naples is…well, everything you’ve ever heard and more when it comes to traffic and navigation. I only took on the fringes, and as one local cyclist said dryly to me; Buona fortuna. You’ll need it.

The South

Basilicata and Puglia are particularly unpopulated, hot, dry and mountainous regions. They are also ruggedly beautiful, with plenty of olive groves, and in spring, the glorious sight of huge, yellow wild fennel taller than man height. But it is not uncommon to cycle almost completely, eerily alone even on main roads for long distances in the interior. The style of settlement in Puglia, with fortified farms called Massarie – means that the habitation is set back from even the minor roads, so you won’t necessarily pass through populated streets for many miles. There are also no livestock – there generally isn’t anywhere in Italy, it’s too hot and they are kept indoors - so the only thing moving apart from you will be the heat haze. This is particularly important to bear in mind when it comes to carrying water – because villages can be few and far between (not to mention on the tops of hills and closed at lunchtime), you'll want to make sure you are carrying enough.

The daily routine

Two things make the normal daily regime – get up, cycle, have lunch, stop in the evening – rather difficult. 

1. The temperature in the afternoon can be searingly hot - 30+ degrees in summer with little shade. You really want to have done most of your miles in the morning. 
2. The long Italian lunch means that you’ll need to be prepared to either join them or come prepared with a picnic. I started out early – sometimes skipping the ‘breakfast’ of black coffee and cake / dry toast which comes with your accommodation and having it al banco a the local café.  The further south I got, the earlier I awoke, breaking the back of the route by midday, stopping, eating leisurely, then aiming to begin again ca. 3 so that I’d arrive by the time stuff – like the tourist offices – start to reopen at 4.30. But I didn’t always stick to it, mostly because I gave up on the tourist offices. You’ll find out what suits you. 

Water

Bring lots of water, even as early as April. Italian lunches can last for 4 hours, so if there isn’t a local bar to fill up at, you may be running dry. This particularly true in southern Italy, where distances between villages and facilities available are significantly poorer than in northern areas. It is also much easier to get lost on poor quality country roads, which take much longer than you predict to cross them. I had my only truly frightening experience running out of water in the strada alla campagna around Melfi. No shade. Brutally hot, and a road which began well but turned into a gravel track at about one in ten steepness. I think I ended up pushing my bike for 10 km in the end, because it was totally unridable. And there were no signs.

What constitutes enough? Well, I have three brackets for water bottles on my bicycle. The most I have ever carried at once (that day - I ran out) was 5 litres of fluids. 

Please don’t let this put you off, though. Just come prepared and allow yourself time to get a feel for the landscape.