I recently rode about 1,000km of the Mille Miglia route as a cycle touring holiday and photographic journey. From accounts I had read of the route it sounded like a good way to see a lot of Italy without having to plan the route yourself and from what I saw of the route you guys who are riding it later this month are in for a fantastic ride. PBP and LEL scenery looks very dull in comparison. I joined the route at Leg 4 and left it near the end of Leg 12, about 700km with detours totalling about 300k off route to towns I wanted to visit on the way: Perugia, Assisi, Pitigliano, San Gimignano, Siena and Florence.
I’ve compiled some thoughts which may or may not help you on your way. I flew to Bologna and rode along the Via Emilia to start the ride at Leg 4, Faenza-Dicomano. Faenza is famous for its ceramics and a large festival was about to start when I was there, drawing visitors from around the world. I got the last bed available in town, at a cost of 80 euros, nearly double what the rest of the trip accommodation was.
On Leg 6 you will go through Caprese Michelangelo, the village where Michelangelo was born. I made the trip up the hill to his house, but you won’t have time on the actual ride. Super country around here, and this is the region where he painted some of his most famous works using the countryside as his backdrop.
There is very little flat riding between Leg 4 and Leg 12, with some major climbs and rolling hills. I only came across one hill at 15 per cent, when I went off-route, most of the others were 8-10 per cent. Lots of the controls are at hill-top towns with long, winding climbs to reach them. There are two splendid lakes to ride round, two controls at a smart lakeside resorts (Passignano and Bolsena) and a roadside spa with bathers in the hot flowing river (near Saturnia). You can’t actually see the spa without taking a 200 metre detour down a sideroad, but ten minutes later, on the climb out, if you look over your right shoulder there’s a good view of the spa and its bathers.
The routesheet was very unclear a few km before Saturnia (Leg 9), giving the impression that Saturnia was bypassed by going direct to Terme di Saturnia via a minor road. Ignore it at your peril and go through the town of Saturnia. The descent, on a narrow ribbed concrete road, was worthy of the Dartmoor Devil and I had my brakes full on all the way down. If it is dark you will be in big trouble.
There was an absolute hair-raising descent to a river crossing after Cinigiano on Leg 10. As I approached it I couldn’t believe my eyes, the river was about 100 metres wide and I envisaged wading across over the rocky riverbed. Fortunately, I realised there was a concrete road cutting through it and the water was only about four inches deep, so I rode through. I guess by this time of year it will only be a trickle, but be warned if you arrive there when it’s dark.
On Leg 11 there is the famous “White Road” or Eroica. The Giro had recently gone through here after heavy rain and they all looked like ghouls, covered in white mud when they finished. I was looking forward to this section, but due to my navigational error from the crappy routesheet I missed it completely. I could have retraced for about 10km but Siena was up the road and I was heading there for the night. Quite honestly, if you don’t want to do that stretch of Eroica you can just keep heading north on the main road and save yourself some time, but it could be one of the highlights of the route that you miss.
Leg 11 at 97 km is a long and tiring stage. You are in Tuscany now with some nice forested sections before the long climbs up to Radda in Chianti (nicknamed Chiantishire by the Italians due to the large influx of Brits who live there). Fantastic descent after Castellina Radda to Staggia Sienese. After this, I found the routesheet very confusing around Colle di Val d’Elsa, lots of ring-road type highways with confusing signposts – make sure you go into the actual town of Val d’Elsa and you’ll be OK. Then follows a long climb up to the extremely touristy town of San Gimingnano. Even in early June there were a lot of cars and buses squeezing past, not very pleasant. The picturesque hilltop town was heaving with tourists but I think you can take a road around the perimeter, not through the middle as I did.
I turned off the route here and made my way to Florence for a couple of nights and then rode back through the Appennines (Appeninnos) to Bologna for my flight home so I can’t comment on the route from here on.
Drivers' attitudes to cyclists
I found the standard of driving in Italy very high, contrary to opinions. Motorists would give me plenty of room and didn't try to overtake when it was narrow, like they do constantly in Britain. The only incident was when a white van screamed past a few inches from me on an open road with no traffic approaching. Ce la vie. White vanman lives everywhere. I get more "incidents" with cars buzzing me and chavs shouting at me on a 60km ride at home than I did in two weeks in Italy.
The routesheet
I downloaded the routesheet from the website, I didn’t use GPS so can’t comment on GPS accuracy. I don’t know if the organisers prepare a proper and accurate routesheet to hand out on the day, but the one I downloaded was very basic, nothing like an AUK one with TL, TR, SO and 3rd exit at RAB helping you along. Subsequently, leaving Faenza and looking for Villanova in 12k just didn’t happen. There were several right turns leading off into the country at around 12k, but no signposts of any help to match the routesheet. Not a very good start. I carried on to the town of Forli where I could turn right and pick up the route at Rocca. I’m on holiday, I have plenty of time. It looked straightforward on the map, but I somehow took the wrong exit at a roundabout and ended up in Predappio, Mussolini’s home town. Rather than reroute through the hills, I decided to head for the control town of Dicomano via country roads, feeling a bit sorry that I would miss my first col, the pass of Muraglione, but my minor road route still climbed to the same altitude alongside the pass, so I didn’t feel too cheated. So, my first lesson, study the route more closely and check the roadsigns, which in this area were very sparse and I often was not sure if I was on the correct road. Made another mistake on leaving the control town of Dicomano, went totally in the wrong direction, north instead of south, for 10k when I decided to look at my compass and realised my mistake.
The scenery is getting really nice here as you head into Umbria (pronounce it "Ooom-bri-a" or the Italians won’t understand you) and the next col took me about three hours to the top. I was on a loaded touring bike and not too fit but you guys should knock at least an hour off that.
To sum up the routesheet, you will have to keep your wits about you all the time, it is very easy to take the wrong exit at a T junction or roundabout because the next town mentioned on the routesheet is often not signposted. I did not ride in the dark, so I can see how easy it is to get totally lost and asking directions in pidgin Italian takes a long time with often no one about to ask! I found the info on the routesheet , eg “via Forlivese,” or “via Michelangelo,” nearly always totally superfluous, hardly ever matching it to where I was on the road and no signposts mentioning them either.
Note to Mel: You are famous for going off-route, so take extra care or you’ll ending up doing 1800 km instead of 1600!
Road surfaces
Through Emilia-Romagna and Umbria, the surfaces were very much like Britain, broken up and badly patched, though the potholes were nowhere near as bad as Britain. The bit you cycle on, near the side, always seemed to be rough and I was glad I had 37mm tyres on for a bit of comfort. As soon as I crossed the border into Tuscany (Toscana) things changed. The road surfaces were generally in superb condition, nice and smooth. Funnily enough, the scenery changed too, from wooded hills and mountains all around you to more wide open spaces with hills and mountains on the horizon, looking very much like Wales.
Food and drink
I love Italian food, they certainly know how to make pasta and their pizzas are something else. As a veggie I often have trouble when abroad finding anything I like, especially in France. I’m not too keen on their coffee though, about an egg cup full of strong black. If you like a full cup to sit and savour, ask for an Americano. You’re really spoilt for choice with delicious Italian ice cream. Don’t rely on petrol stations for food, as we do here. The majority of them only sell petrol and oil, no food or drink is available.
Maps and compass
I used maps from Touring Club Italiano, which are very detailed at 1:200,000, like an OS map. If you are only using smaller scale maps torn from road books, you will be in trouble if you go off route as they are not detailed enough. I found my compass to be invaluable at times to make sure I was heading in the right direction.
Language
Essential to know a few get-you-by phrases. In the big towns and in hotels, English is fairly common, but off the beaten track, where most of the route goes, you won’t find many people who can speak English. With a map and a few phrases, you can get directions when lost. A small phrase book could be invaluable to you. (Can you tell me how to get to… ? “Pwo deermee kome arrivare” comes in very helpful. Phonetic spelling! Also Vorrei: “I would like …”) and Per favore "Please".
If you pack
The rail network seemed pretty good and you can take a bike with you, but you have to buy another same-price ticket for it. The few stations I looked at had only ticket machines, though major towns are fully manned.
Climate
I was riding in late May/early June and the temperature was just starting to warm up. It was similar to a hot English summer day. Come August the routesheet mentions 35-38 degrees, something we are not acclimatised to so you will need plenty of liquids. Two bidons on your bike and a spare bottle in your bag if room. I used one-litre bidons, holding 25 per cent more than standard ones, but had to buy expanding bottle cages to take them but it was well worth it. The Profile Design ones from St John St Cycles take a large bidon and grip it firmly. You may find cafés on-route where you can fill up, but don’t rely on them, they are few and far between. A good source of water are the roadside springs. Some are non-potable so be aware. The locals will be filling up dozens of plastic bottles with spring water so you know when it’s safe.
Bikes and airlines
I detest flying with a bike. I always get major hassle from whichever airline I use. Taking the train directly into Gatwick airport and in the lift straight into the airport – easy. Then the hassles start. North Terminal’s internal railway was out of action: buses are used which take you around public roads for a few miles to the other terminal. I intended to pack the bike up near the check-in as it’s easier to push a bike around than push a bike bag “You can’t bring that bike on the bus unless it’s in a bag.” OK, I get my tools out and start to strip the bike down when he relented and let me on. I put my bike in a large plastic BA bike bag, with pedals off and bars turned. They refused to accept it, even though they supplied me with the bag a few years ago. I intended to leave the bag hidden somewhere near the airport and retrieve it on the way back. Instead, I had to go and buy a large cardboard bike box for £17.50 and strip the bike down to get it in, leaving me only minutes to get my flight. What do I do with a large box when I get to Bologna? Left luggage wanted 125 euros to store it for a fortnight. I trawled round the airport, pushing a loaded bike with one hand and dragging the box with the other, looking for somewhere to hide it – fat chance! Eventually I found a cargo depot and after explaining that I had to have the box for the return journey, they stored it for me without charge. The workers there were really interested in where I was heading off to as well.
On my return I retrieved the box, loaded the bike and saddlebag, only for check-in to say it was 3kg overweight and wanted a large excess luggage fee. It was the same weight as when I left Gatwick. Taking the bike out of the box, what can I take from the saddlebag to lighten the load? There is nothing of significant size/weight in it, so I end up with an armful of clothes, maps and bit and pieces. My handlebar bag across my shoulder is full with camera gear and I’ve nothing to put all the loose bits in. Load up the box again and struggle with it to a weighing machine where it is accepted. Make my way to passport control where I’m searched because my cleats set the alarm off. At least, they gave me a carrier bag to put all the loose bits in. I’m now in the queue to get on board when I hear my name over the Tannoy. “Please report back to customs.” Rush all the way back: “There is a problem with your luggage.” I am led through a maze of corridors and stairways to a cargo bay. The BA staff say “Your luggage it too big to go through the X-ray machine. You will have to open it.” It’s quite clearly a bike box, with “Bicycle” printed in large letters all over it. “Why didn’t you open it yourself?” I say. It was only taped up with microporous tape, as I had nothing else to use. “We are not allowed to,” was the reply. I open the box, he looks in, “Oh, it’s a bike.” I catch my flight with seconds to spare.
The hassle didn’t end there. I arrive at East Croydon station and alight with bike box. I’m about 200 metres up at the far end of the platform and with a further 50 metre ramp to climb at the end. I ask the station staff where the trolleys are. “They’ve all been stolen and we haven’t replaced them.” This is a major station, probably one of the largest and busiest outside of central London. Nothing for it but to take the bike out of the box, leave the box on the platform, and push my bike out to the road with the mudguard jammed on the tyre. Welcome to Britain.
Bon voyage et bon courage!
