We arrived in the Port of Napoli, as promised, at the chime of 0600. The strong Italian coffee we’d had prior to disembarkation having little effect against the gross sleep deprivation and nocturnal hypothermia we were now suffering from. Wanting to take full advantage of the unusually early start to our day we decided to take a slight detour, heading slightly south of Napoli before heading North once more. To the ruined city of Pompeii just the other side of Mount Vesuvius.
Our enthusiasm to get things going early may have proved a little superfluous as we got there before it had actually opened so we shelled out for an over priced coffee and a croissant. Regardless of the early start we still failed to beat the crowds which soon started building. Although the ancient Roman city truly is a wonder, like many wonders, it was slightly ruined (if you’ll excuse the pun) by all the bloody tourists!
Nevertheless we found enough intrigue to occupy us for two sweaty hours before we decided to get back on the road. Our efforts to get going were initially hampered when we returned to the bikes, which we’d simply parked up right outside the gates to Pompeii, being looked over by an officious looking police officer who harangued us for our careless parking the whole time we were getting our gear back on, after which we simply rode off!
That said, we didn’t get far before yet another run in with the law. As we pulled to the bottom of the hill we were unceremoniously flagged down in the middle of the street. As it turns out the same sign we have back home dictating ‘bikes only’ (i.e. no cars or lorries – just bikes) means the exact opposite in Italy. Go figure. We were lucky to get away with a rather public and embarrassing public reprimand, “… because you are just stupid!” (I like to assume that the gratuitous name calling was a reflection of language difficulties rather than a blatant abuse of power).
Aboard our overnight ferry the night before, we’d discussed out route options from Pompeii. We’d originally said that we’d do a little motorway (just to gobble a few miles as it was a relatively long day) and jump on the A30-A1 just as far as Vitulazio where we could cut back to the coast and circumnavigate any crazy traffic in Napoli. Clawing back some much needed ride time – I can only assume that fatigue turns Rob into some crazed Endurance rider with a penchant for traffic jams!
An executive decision was made, completely negating any prior conversations and we find ourselves lumbering clumsily in to the the Napoleon chaos. On reflection, I wouldn’t have had it any other way though. Tiring hard work but we got to see some amazing architecture. At one point, with my frustration at the traffic mounting, we rode under a beautifully ornate arch into a simply stunning square – it kind of made the slippery cobbles and life threatening tram lines worth it.
Through Naples and the riding didn’t get any easier. Beautiful, picturesque, expensive looking seaside towns followed each other in relentless succession. We seemed to be in a never-ending battle with holiday traffic, filtering down the outside and endless possession of happy campers around blind hairpins just trying to make our miles. The constant balance and equilibrium between the heavy going ride and the marvel of the coastal scenery in perfect contrast.
Once again I was flagged down by the police – Rob was a way behind and seemingly evading justice – the officer starts shouting at me in Italian so I rolled out my usual “non-capeeeesh” patter. It seemed to work and he sent over a female police officer who spoke English. I explained, with the aid of my map, that we are trying to follow the coastal road around. She tells me that some towns only allow residents through on bikes but “… as we are strange” she will let us see this town (I think, or at least hope, she meant “stranger” – I could be wrong of course). As it turned out, we all had our wires crossed and I’d lead us on yet another merry dance. The town turned out to be a small island with one road in and one road out, we stopped for an expensive Coke (and a Brioche – it was hot) before heading back out of town, stopping to give our critique to the proud lady cop – “lovely town!”
We fought through the onset of fatigue and forced ourselves ever onwards. The tiredness did little to aid navigation though and we repeatedly found ourselves stopping and checking the map or even u-turning a few times. It seemed to take an absolute age to get anywhere near Rome and the prospect of finding ourselves in the capitol city’s afternoon traffic spelled disaster. We had a coastal spot in mind about 30km south of Rome and if we could just get ourselves to that then things would be peachy. Through sheer minded tenacity and bloodymindedness we found the place and a site presented itself almost immediately, directly off the main road. We were both fit to drop but we got the tents up and went for an early evening dip in the sea.
The campsite was decent, if a little cramped, with a cheap and basic bar/restaurant but it was right on the beach and we pitched right in the dunes. I can assure you that after a few well deserved and extremely cheap beers we slept like the dead in Lido di Ostia.
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Steve Ward on Facebook
July 31, 2015 at 10:26 amYou ARE strange. Just saying.