Viareggio to Genova

Sunday December 5

My alarm was set for 6:20 am. I mean, I know I went to bed early, but what was I thinking? 6:20 am? It was still dark! I must have been feeling very optimistic when I set it. So needless to say, I turned the alarm off and went back to sleep, and woke up at the more reasonable hour of 9 am.
After the usual breakfast of a mixture of cereals with milk, I headed off. The first priority was to find an unlocked Wi-Fi network so that I could check and send emails, so I cruised along a road by the coast. 

Looking inland from the coast, in Fossa dell'Abate, Italy.

Looking northward along the coast from Via Lungomare di Ponente, in Marina di Massa, Italy.

It took a long time to find a suitable Wi-Fi signal, but eventually I did. My little sister in year 11, Silkom, was sick, possibly with glandular fever, and she was getting tired all the time.

I'd sent her a few jokes to cheer her up a few days earlier, but she didn't get them because we can't get the Internet at home in Mount Franklin, country Victoria:

Are you recovering?
I have a joke for you to cheer you up, just in case you need cheering up, but hopefully you are already cheery:

What did Santa Claus’s wife say during a thunderstorm?
Come and look at the rain, dear. 

And then this one:

I was going to add another joke there but somehow accidentally pressed send. So here's the next joke, which one of my friends posted on facebook, I thought it was really funny:
A horse walks into a bar. The bartender asks "why the long face?" The horse does not respond because it is a horse. It can neither speak, nor understand English. It is confused by its surroundings and gallops out of the bar, knocking over a few tables.

Today Silkom sent me this message, on Facebook because she can use it on her phone for free, but she can't use email on her phone. At least that's what she tells me.

Ned!
Are you okay?? 30 people in Europe have died because of cold temperatures. Reply to me and tell me of your good health, son!

Well, that was the first I'd heard of that, other than Mum's email from yesterday warning of a cold spell in Europe. Rather ominous news I suppose, but I can't say it worried me. It probably excited me more than anything, because of not knowing what was going to happen and its promise to potentially provide a cool challenge (pun intended).

On this Sunday in Viareggio I found a road alongside the beach which was just like Beach Road in Melbourne on a Sunday - lots of road cyclists dressed in lycra riding expensive road bikes, concerned about how they look but unconcerned about taking up the whole lane or following any of the road rules. They were mostly riding along in small groups, some riding individually and a few large groups as well. This was the first real sign of a cycling culture that I'd come across while riding through Italy. And having not done any bunch riding since I was in Melbourne, I was keen to tack onto the back of one of the groups. So after a bunch over-took me, I went flat knacker to catch up to them. It was difficult getting up to the sorts of speeds they were traveling at on my Surly Long Haul Trucker Touring bike (called Florey), loaded up with my four panniers, and with plenty of flex in the ChroMoly steel frame, the cranks and the drive-train. However, after having maintained a decent level of fitness after being on the road for the previous two months, I was able to catch up to them and sit in the slip-stream at the back of the bunch. I say "sit", as though I could just cruise along there without much effort, but in reality I had to work pretty hard just to stay in contact. We would have only been moving at 35 km/h which would have been very easy on my road bike, but not on Florey. Also I was wary of getting too close in with the bunch because I suspected they might not appreciate it. I didn't know their level of snobbishness; road cyclists can often be quite snobby, you see. I could have been spoiling their all-important image - I wasn't on a road bike, I wasn't wearing any lycra and I had panniers. But I hooked on nonetheless, and the guy at the back, when he noticed I was keeping up, gave me the thumbs up so I assumed they didn't mind. They seemed to find me quite an amusement, and a few passed on some words of encouragement, so I felt welcome enough to ride with them. I told them I was from Australia, which Europeans always seem to love.
Coming up to the first set of traffic lights with the bunch, the lights turned orange, and then red, so naturally I started breaking. Interestingly though, the whole bunch cruised right on through the red light, without hesitation - apparently this was normal behaviour, and indeed it seemed it was expected by everyone in the bunch that they just rode on through the red light. Not wanting to be dropped, of course, I had to put in an effort and speed up to catch them again.
I guess I'd expected everyone to stop at the red lights. When riding in a bunch along Beach Road in Melbourne, everyone would stop at all the red lights, so I was used to doing that. On my own and when in a hurry, that would often be a different story if there was no traffic and no Johnny Hoppers in sight. And here in Italy, I got the feeling that it was okay to go through the red lights too, because everyone else was doing it. I'm not a big subscriber to following rules strictly anyway. I more see them as guidelines. So of course I was happy to follow the other cyclists through the red lights here. And they did the same for all the red lights along this stretch of road, only slowing or veering if there were cars turning in.
It was enjoyable riding in a group again, and getting the heart rate right up when I'm normally just cruising. The end of this cycling boulevard seemed to come at about the 20 km mark, where most of the cyclists turned around to go back, a few continued straight, and a few of them turned right. 

My route along the Via delle Pinete, a popular cycling road on a Sunday morning in Italy.

I didn't really know where I was going, so I took a punt and turned right. As we continued riding up this road, one of the guys was trying to speak to me in English after earlier learning that I didn't understand Italian. From what I could gather, he was impressed that I could keep up with them on my touring bike. His English wasn't great, but we could still have somewhat of a conversation. He asked where I was going, and I told him I was trying to get to Genova that day. At this point, we pulled over and stopped riding, along with another bloke who must have been his mate - apparently I was going in the wrong direction. So we discussed the best route for me to take. He reckoned there were two potential routes, but the one closer to the coast was the best one for me, reason being I think because it would be much less hilly, and it would be too cold for the mountainous route at this time of year. So he gave me some directions, with the help of my iPhone map, and reckoned it would be a good ride and eventually, after thanking them kindly for their help, I was on my way again.

Looking towards the mountains from Via Litoranea, just past Fiumaretta di Ameglia.

I stopped in a town called La Spezia, in a little park, and made myself some tomato and mozzarella cheese rolls, which I enjoyed - well, kind of - in the light drizzle while listening to a Dr Karl podcast.

Back on the road after lunch, the road wasted no time in turning uphill, and indeed the terrain from here onwards became quite lumpy, as you can see from the profile elevation below. I had no idea of which roads I should be taking, I just knew which direction I wanted to be heading - Genova. Just heading out of La Spezia, I was faced with a fork in the road: left or right? 

Two potential routes to Genova - left or right?

I consulted the map for guidance, and decided to go right, because it looked easier to navigate and much less windy then the left-hand route. The road climbed for a kilometre or so and then, to my surprise, turned into a tunnel. 

About to enter a long road tunnel through the hill, on the Variante Aurelia Bis, near Sarbia, La Spezia, Italy.

Road tunnels seem quite common in Europe; they tunnel through mountains left, right and centre. Generally they're for the major roads and autostrade, and generally cyclists aren't allowed to ride through them either. I doubted I was allowed to ride through this one, but I didn't want to ride all the way back down to the fork in the road, and I figured I could just plead ignorance if I got caught. Also there wasn't too much traffic and hence didn't seem dangerous, so in I went. I had no idea how long the tunnel went for, and it seemed to be going on for a long time, and climbing steadily.

Inside the road tunnel on Variante Aurelia Bis.

I was relieved to see the light at the end of the tunnel after a full 2 km's!

The climb kept going; it was a significant lump too, reaching an altitude of 220 metres. The next major lump started a further 15 kilometres on, closely followed by a much larger lump, called Passo del Bracco. By the time I got to this one, I'd been on the road for 83 kilometres and it was properly dark. Having not looked at the route ahead, the terrain was much hillier than I'd expected. And this Passo del Bracco just kept going up and up, it seemed to take forever, and all the while, the rain was setting in and I was slowly getting wetter and wetter. As I climbed, I began to see chunks of snow on the sides of the road, and these chunks became more frequent and widespread the further I climbed. 

Climbing Passo del Bracco, with snow on the side of the road of the Località Baracchino, Italy.

Finally I got to the top and the road turned downhill again, and I was able to cruise down at speeds of over 40 km/h, with plenty of illumination from my dynamo-powered headlight. I couldn't go too quickly because the road was wet and windy.

Just after I got to the bottom of the descent, I had my first crash of the trip. I was coming into an intersection and there was a bit of a curve to the right. 

Aerial view of my crash point (centre of image), in Sestri Levante, Italy.

I felt pressured by the cars behind me to keep up speed and get across the intersection. 

The offending intersection in daylight (note that my crash ocurred at night time), in Sestri Levante.

However as I was veering slightly to the right, the front tyre hit a steel grate on the road and slipped out from underneath me, and I went down like a sack of potatoes. 

The offending wet steel grate which caused my crash, in Sestri Levante, Italy.

I slid across the road for several metres, while one of my panniers detached and slid a further ten odd metres ahead of me. I quickly picked myself, the bike and the stray pannier up and relocated onto the footpath to inspect the damage. A few passers-by had seen me crash, but no-one even stopped to ask if I was okay, which I thought was rather inconsiderate. Fortunately I was okay; the only injury I sustained was a sore thumb which I must have bent backwards on the handlebars. The bike too seemed fine, even the pannier that had detached was intact and I was able to clip it back on no problems, such is the quality of the Ortlieb panniers!

Undeterred, I continued on. The road mostly hugged the coast now, and was mostly built up all the way along it. Occasionally it would detour away from the coast in order to cross some steep hills that got in the way - not insignificant at 100 - 200 metres in elevation.
It was getting on, and I was looking forward to eating another delicious pizza. I got to a town called Rapallo and took a bit of a wander on to find a restaurant. There were plenty of choices as usual, but I settled on one. It was quite busy - a sign of a good restaurant I think. The group of people beside me were celebrating someone's birthday and were being rather boisterous. It didn't worry me though; I just enjoyed the shelter and warmth while eating my delicious Italian pizza. Yum!

Table celebrating a birthday party, at a restaurant in Rapallo, Italy.

The usual capricciosa, probably my favourite, at a restaurant in Rapallo, Italy.

I was tempted to order a second pizza; the first was delicious and one pizza isn't quite enough. But I decided I'd better keep going, it was getting late as it was, 10:30 pm at that point.

Upon leaving the restaurant, the road immediately turned up hill and climbed to 261 metres, and the legs were getting pretty tired at this stage. It was a pretty good view along the way though, at night with all the lights. 

A night-time view overlooking some coastal towns and the ocean, from the Via Aurelia in San Lorenzo della Costa, Italy.

I think it would have been even more impressive in the day time. Which made me think, I should probably be waking up earlier and making more use of the daylight, rather than doing half my cycling at night time. It was 11 pm at that point after-all. Hmm. I guess I'm a strong night-time person.

I continued on as there were clearly no suitable campsites on the hilly terrain I was traversing, although I was certainly keeping an eye out.
I rolled into Genova at about 12:30 pm, keeping my eyes peeled for a campsite, but a campsite was not forthcoming. I didn't like the feel of Genova much - probably mostly to do with the horrible weather though - it was raining, terribly windy and as cold as a fridge at about 4 degrees. Brrr!
Also, Genova was a bastard to ride though, and I'd only spotted about three patches of grass in the last 50 kilometres, and that's including private lawns...and public parks. Well I hadn't actually seen any public parks, that was the problem. I just thought I'd slip in a reference to an Angus & Julia Stone song there.
I kept riding past Genova alongside the coast and eventually, to my relief, found a little muddy patch of grass beside a playground - it would have to do! It was 2:30 am and I was too tired to ride any further, so I set up the tent, took off my soaking wet clothes, crawled into my warm dry sleeping bag and ate a few left-over sandwiches and some choc-chip biscuits before joining the land of nod at about 3:30 am.

My route for the day, Viareggio to Genova.

An overview of my route for the day, Viareggio to Genova, Italy.

Ride Stats:

Distance: 186.57 km
Average: 17.5 km/h
Maximum: 53.4 km/h
Time: 10:36:41
Total Ascent: 1752 m
Total Descent: 1802 m

San Vincenzo to Viareggio

Saturday December 4, 2010

My campsite for the night at a playground in San Vincenzo, Italy.

The view from my campsite in San Vincenzo, overlooking the train line and ocean.

Today I started pondering some of the deep questions of life. Like why does the nose constantly run in the cold? Does this have some kind of evolutionary advantage? Might be a question for Dr Karl.

I awoke at 10 am, a little later than hoped and planned, but not to worry. 

The miserable wet weather continued with a heavy, cold shower just as I got on the road.

The way I've been traveling has all become quite a routine now, following the same formula every day. I know the contents of my panniers like the back of my hand. I can reach into one of them in the dark and pull the item I'm looking for out from the bottom, because I know where everything is. It makes traveling a little more efficient, seems I've got it down to a fine art now.

Today I also received some worried emails from the family who have been watching the news at home in Australia and seen how cold it is getting in Europe at the moment. That was the first I'd heard of the cold spell currently hitting Europe. 

An email from Mum:

Ned, where are you? And are you okay? Very concerned as we hear that it is very cold in Europe and UK, we hope you are safe and staying somewhere, not riding or camping out in the cold.

Love Mum & Tex

And my response:

Hi Mum, and everyone, yes I am safe. I'm in Livorno, looking for the pizzeria that Rosanna was raving about, but she never told me where it was and there must be hundreds, so that makes it difficult. I tried ringing her too but couldn't get onto her, I think she's skiing at the moment. 

The weather here in Italy hasn't been ideal, mostly wet and cold, but it's quite nice today, the sun is shining, although it's still a little cold. 

I have mostly been keeping dry and warm. 

I'm trying to get to Paris by the 14th so that I can see Air play. 

I might see the leaning tower today, and might stay in Genova tomorrow if there are hostels there. 

Bye for now

Well it's not too cold here yet, just a little cold, and rather wet, but indeed I expect it to get cold as I head further north and further from the coast, so that should make things interesting.

After the showers cleared, I was treated to some fine weather, as well as some beautiful scenery as the mountains fell into the coast. 

On the Via del Littorale, between Quercianella and Calafuria, Italy.

On the Via del Littorale, between Quercianella and Calafuria, Italy.

The riding was quite pleasant; the only hiccup was when I got a puncture about 10 kilometres out from Livorno. But I've come to expect it with the tyres I'm running, so I just had to grin and bear it.

Repairing a puncture. Italy.

I got into Livorno (traditionally called Leghorn) which was quite a nice little town. 

Livorno (Leghorn), Italy.

Someone creating some very large bubbles in Livorno (Leghorn), Italy.

I remember Rosie telling me about her visit here a few months earlier, and that she'd said the town was quite boring, except for the pizzeria she stopped at for lunch, which she described as the best pizza she ever had in Italy, and the pizzeria had won lots of awards for their pizzas. So I tried to call Rosie to ask her where this amazing pizzeria was, but alas she didn't answer. I think she was off skiing in the mountains in the Northern parts of Italy.

So I just settled for the first pizzeria I found, which was good nonetheless.

Pizza for lunch at a pizzeria on the Viale Italia, Italy.

I rode on, and the sun started setting.

The sun setting as I crossed a bridge on the Via Aurelia Sud, heading out of Stagno, Italy.

The next major town on my route was Pisa, of course famous for its leaning tower. It was pretty exciting seeing this for the first time in real life. My first impressions were "wow, it really does have quite a lean". As a civil engineer myself, it did have more of a lean than I expected.

The Leaning Tower of Pisa, Italy.

The Leaning Tower of Pisa, Italy.

The Leaning Tower of Pisa, Italy.

There were plenty of tourists admiring the attraction too. And plenty doing the clichéd photo that you see everyone do with the leaning tower - pretending to be holding it up. So of course I had to take one of those photos myself. "When in Pisa", as they say. I had to set the iPhone camera on a self-timer, and have a guess at where to stand and where to position my arms and hands, but after only a few attempts, I think I nailed it.

The obligatory "lean against the tour and pretend you're holding it up" photo. 

The Leaning Tower of Pisa, Italy.

Afterwards, I stopped in at the nearest pizzeria for tea. Man I love pizza! Can you tell?

Pizza for tea at a restaurant near the Leaning Tower of Pisa.

After tea, I made sure I did some shopping because the next day was Sunday, and I'd already learnt the hard way that all the shops are closed on Sundays, I wasn't going to leave myself high and dry again.

Then I pushed out another 30 odd kilometres and came to a town called Viareggio. I stumbled upon a bit of a gold mine of good camping sites, or at least a few nuggets. There were some great spots under some pine trees, complete with tables and chairs, so I didn't hesitate to set up there. Unfortunately I forgot to photograph it so I can't show you how good it was. This screen shot from Google Street View will have to suffice:

My campsite for the night was under the conifers there behind the green seat. Viareggio, Italy.

It was a relatively early night by my standards; I was trying to pull the sleeping pattern back from where it's been the past week, which was a half-nocturnal sleeping pattern, really. Also I wanted to get a full day of riding in the next day since it was Sunday, the day in which the roads are quietest. I expected to get at least to Genova by the following night.

My route for the day, San Vicenzo to Viareggio

An overview of my route for the day, from San Vincenzo to Viareggio, Italy.

My route for the day, San Vincenzo to Viareggio.

An overview of my route so far from France to Italy.

Ride Stats:

Distance: 112.58 km
Average: 19.5 km/h
Maximum: 52.8 km/h
Time: 5:44:47

Total Ascent: 432 m

Total Descent: 447 m
Odometer: 8070.7 km

Alberese to San Vincenzo

Friday December 3, 2010

My camp site in San Vincenzo, tucked in between a hedge, a bush and a statue.

There was some really loud thunder overnight, which woke me from my slumber a few times, but it was still a great sleep. I also spotted a few planes flying over.

From a distance, they look like birds, but they are planes.

I must have needed a good rest, because I didn't wake up until after one o'clock! I wasn't in much of a hurry as I ate breakfast and packed up, because I didn't head off until 3 pm! I checked the map and it looked like I could bypass Grosseto, so off I went. 

On the Via del Versagliere in Alberese, Italy.

Unfortunately when I got to the river, I discovered there was no bridge across it, so I had to back track and then go through Grosseto, not the preferred option as it was longer and the roads much busier.

A river at the end of the Strada Vicinale Vecchia Aurelia, near Spergolaia, Italy.

A river at the end of the Strada Vicinale Vecchia Aurelia, near Spergolaia, Italy. 

Back-tracking after running into a river.

Taking the scenic route through Grosseto.

I felt like I was risking my life taking some of those main roads through Grosseto.

On the Fiume Ombrone, heading into Grosseto, Italy.

On the Fiume Ombrone, heading into Grosseto, Italy.

On the Fiume Ombrone, heading into Grosseto, Italy.

I stopped in at a supermarket in Grosseto and bought a few of my staples - milk and corn flakes. Then I continued on through various other little towns, listening to podcasts along the way. The riding wasn't too bad, with some quieter roads, and some accompanied by bike lines or bike paths too, as well as some more scenic scenery than I'd seen further south.

I stopped in a town called Follonica for tea, and ate a pizza with a beer, delicious!

Pizza for tea in Follonica.

I continued on, and saw a few patches of snow on the sides of the road - the first signs of snow that I'd seen at that point, but there'd be more of that to come as I headed further north, and further into the European winter.

I wanted to break the 100 km mark for the day, but it was a tall ask considering how late I headed off in the day. I ended up finding a reasonable camping spot in a playground, near a railway line, so I set up there for the night.

It's interesting writing these blog posts almost a year after I was there. The memories have of course faded, especially those of the conversations I had and people I met, which is probably why my posts are much shorter than before. But some parts of the trip are still quite vivid, and the photos I took are effective at revoking the memories. And I can view my route on Google Earth, which is also a good reminder of all the places I saw along the way, and recalls many of the images in my mind. Certain points along my route each day I have very clear images of in my mind, and other points along the route I don't even recall. But of course this is natural, depending on how much I took in at the time.

Alberese to San Vincenzo

An overview of my route from Alberese to San Vincenzo.

Another view of my route for the day (from Google Earth): Alberese to San Vincenzo

Ride Stats:

Distance: 94.42 km
Average: 18.6 km/h
Maximum: 52.3 km/h
Time: 5:03:13

Total Ascent: 429 m

Total Descent: 439 m

Rome to Alberese

Thursday December 2, 2010
I slept very well overnight, probably because I was so tired, and got up at about 10 am. 

My dorm at Ciak Hostel

Another day, another disappointing hostel breakfast. You just can't trust hostels for a substantial breakfast, very hit and miss. This "full continental breakfast" provided an inadequate amount of toast, some cheap cornflakes with an insufficient volume of milk, and some plain biscuits. No other cereals, no croissants, not sure how it could be classified as a full continental breakfast. Oh well.
I didn't feel in much hurry to get going again, I guess I wasn't too keen to tackle the Roman roads and traffic, I knew it wasn't going to be easy, and that getting out of Rome would be the hardest part.
I spent a while preparing, downloading podcasts and maps on the MotionX GPS app, and also looked at Google Maps to plan the route.
I headed off at about noon, the weather was currently partly sunny, partly cloudy, but rain was forecast for later in the day.
As expected, the traffic was heavy and chaotic and the cycling was dangerous. A friend from Melbourne, Daniel Braunsteins, boosted my confidence when he told me via Facebook about when he was cycling in Italy: "I was in italy for 3 months and I got hit by a car, a truck and I knocked over an old lady who started bleeding quite badly from her face."
Luckily, however, I made it out of the city unscathed, and didn't bowl down any elderly pedestrians. The roads improved as I got further from Rome, and the cycling was quite pleasant as I cruised along some quiet country roads surrounded by green fields, heading towards the west coast. At least that was the case until I got to a busier road called "Via Aurella". This was the only road I could take though; the alternative was the Autostrade, which is illegal for cyclists to ride on.

I listened to podcasts for most of the day, including Tech Stuff, ABC radio's AM and PM, All in the Mind and Dr Karl on triple j, I needed to give the brain some food to stave off the monotony of some of the riding.
I stopped for a late lunch at around 4 pm in a little town by the coast called Santa Marinella.

The spot I stopped for lunch, Piazza Civitavecchia courtesy of Google Maps

I hit the road again but just a few kilometres further on, I found myself with another flat tyre, just as it was getting dark. I pulled off down a side-street, and found a quiet spot to fix it, while listening to some podcasts from The Economist, before getting back on the road.
I stopped a little further on in the town of Chivitavecchia because I spotted a bike shop and thought I'd drop in on the off chance he had an appropriate tyre in stock, that elusive tyre I'd been hunting for for the previous few months. Unsurprisingly though I had no such luck - the closest he had were slick continentals, 26x1.6, not quite what I was after. However, he was a good bloke and we chatted for a while. He spoke highly of Australia, and told me about his holiday to Australia in January. He'd spent two weeks in Perth, one week in Queensland and one week in Melbourne. He informed me he'd been to Australia five times, and that he was looking forward to going for another holiday to Australia the next year. He spoke rather negatively of Italians, saying they're stuck in history and they have lots of people with only a limited amount of space. I thanked him for his help, he bode me farewell, and I was on the road again, just as a few spots of rain were starting to fall.
It wasn't long before these few spots of rain had developed into a large number of spots, and I only got another kilometre or two further down the road before it was quite heavy indeed, so I pulled up under a shop veranda, the only spot of shelter I could see under the time-pressure stemming from the desire not to get drenched. I was hoping it was just a passing shower, but I ended up sheltering under that veranda for a few hours! The rain was some of the heaviest I'd come across in my journey through Europe, and it was unrelenting, I just couldn't bring myself to head out in that weather. 

Sheltering from the rain by the Via Tarquinia in Civitavecchia, Italy.

Sheltering from the rain by the Via Tarquinia in Civitavecchia, Italy.

Sheltering from the rain by the Via Tarquinia in Civitavecchia, Italy.

Sheltering from the rain by the Via Tarquinia in Civitavecchia, Italy.

I listened to Hamish and Andy podcasts, and snacked on chocolate and choc-chip biscuits.
It wasn't until after 9 pm that the rain finally died down and I was able to head off again. The road I was on turned onto a fairly main road, which looked like an Autostrada, and I don't think I was allowed to ride on it, but I couldn't see any viable alternatives on the map. Also it was past mid-night by that stage, so I figured there wouldn't be much traffic so it wouldn't matter too much. I continued on this road for another 80 kilometres I'd say, through a few more showers, and right into the wee hours of the morning. One thing I noticed in between the showers was how clear the stars were.
I was keen not to be riding on such a road during the day, for fear of being hit by a car/truck, so I figured I'd get it out of the way there and then. Eventually I saw a nice looking road forking off the main one a little way before Grosseto, and turned off onto this one without hesitation. This little road skirted by fruit tree and olive tree orchards took me to a little town called Alberese. By this stage, it was after 4 pm, so I was keen to set up the tent for the night. So after a wander around the town, I selected a spot near the centre, in between a statue and a little hedge and set up the tent for the night, or at least what was left of it.

My wander around the town searching for a camp spot

My route for the day, Rome to Alberese.

Another view of my route for the day, this one from Google Earth: Rome to Alberese, Italy. 

An overview of my route so far, from France to Italy.

Ride Stats

Distance: 185 km
Average: 20.7 km/h
Maximum: 54.4 km/h
Time: 8:55:59

Total Ascent: 856 m

Total Descent: 926 m