After my last posting that brought me to Faenza I visited Mery and Roberto, dear Italian cycling friends Devon and I met now living in Bologna, I spent two delightful evenings rediscovering the joy of socializing which I so miss.
The next stop was Ferrara, a historic town I fondly remembered from last year’s visit. Its cobblestone streets, castle, and vibrant nightlife captured the quintessential Italian charm. Though I didn’t join the lively crowds due to a language barrier and felt a bit lonely without Devon, I deeply appreciated Ferrara’s energetic and welcoming atmosphere.
The weather has been spectacular—clear, sunny skies ideal for cycling. Riding in cycling shorts and a short sleave jersey was a delight, and the forecast promises more of the same.
One of the standout moments on my ride between Padua and Treviso was along a bustling bike path, where I had the chance to ride and chat with fellow cyclists. I stumbled upon a delightful Espresso Caddyshack-style stop, catering exclusively to riders on the trail. The atmosphere was vibrant, and my conversations with English-speaking Italian cyclists were filled with enthusiasm—they were genuinely amazed by my route and age. Among the lively chatter, one horseman shared his travel plans alongside his trusty steed, while another cyclist recounted the tale of a French rider journeying all the way to Malaysia on a life-changing adventure.
Later, just 26 km from my destination, I gave in to the allure of a bar along the path and treated myself to a refreshing, Italian beer—a perfect mid-ride indulgence.
My ride also led me through cities and towns that might not appeal to everyone, but I’ve always had a peculiar appreciation for the lively buzz of traffic. That enjoyment stems from my days as a Chicago cab driver at age 19.
While riding through busy city traffic the other day, my competitive spirit made an appearance. There’s something uniquely irritating about the way some drivers use their horns—as if to suggest cyclists like me don’t belong on the road. It’s not just a honk; it’s a “get off the road” statement, sharp and dismissive.
So when a van honked at me in that very tone, that little blast set something off in me, and I decided I wasn’t going to let it slide. The traffic ahead was congested, which gave me an opportunity. I dug deep, floored it, and managed to not only stay with the flow of vehicles but to pass them. As I pulled alongside the van, I couldn’t resist. I shouted out a defiant “beep beep” as I sped past. The driver probably didn’t hear me over the hum of the city, but it felt fantastic to claim that moment for myself.
It’s these little victories—standing your ground and embracing the absurdity of it all—that make cycling in traffic an adventure all its own. At least for me.
The following unedited short videos are taken in the Po River Valley, it’s a bit of blur to remember exactly where.
Today's ride marked a shift in scenery as I ventured into the Alps. I've arrived in a romantic mountain village called Venzone, where I’m staying in a lovely room overlooking the picturesque square. The tranquility of this tiny village feels magical. Tomorrow, I’ll head to Tarvisio, the route is supposed to be one of beauty. With great but chilly weather on the horizon, I’m eagerly anticipating the ride ahead.
Finding time to post has been challenging, so here’s a quick look at my daily routine. After 4–5 hours of cycling, I navigate to my B&B or apartment—a task that often takes up to half an hour. Once settled, I improvise ice-making, shower, call Devon, and plan the next day's ride, which can take up to two hours using RidewithGPS and Booking.com. I might enjoy a gin on ice (if frozen), then handle groceries, dinner, prepping lunch, checking emails, writing a blog, or exploring. By 10 to 12 p.m., exhaustion sets in.
Mornings start at 6:30 or 7 a.m. with a filling breakfast of eggs, muesli, and yogurt. Packing, the most stressful part, follows before heading out. Along the ride, I enjoy macchiatos where I refill my water bottles, and marvel at how quickly the days fly by..
