Day 7 – Tuesday 22 July

Montecatini Alto to Maserno (Montese)

Campsite

Campeggio Ecochiocciola (http://www.ecochiocciola.com/)

Notes

After a wet day kicking my heels at Camping Belsito on Monday 21st, the weather dawned dry if cloudy on Tuesday morning and I packed up and was about to leave when I couldn’t find my satnav charger. I went to the camp office to see if I had left it there and the lady got quite upset that I thought she hadn’t given it back to me. After hunting around in a panic I spotted it resting on the top of a rear pannier. I must have taken it out of the bar bag where it was normally packed and put it down while I rearranged things, only to forget where I had put it seconds before – stupid! The lady was relieved when I told her I’d found it.

I set off to retrace my steps back to the road to Pistoia without using the satnav as I thought I could remember the way, but after a couple of miles I got to a junction that I didn't recognise. There was a signpost identifying the road as the SP32 (Strada Provinciale) that I could see on my map, so I decided to map read my way north and pick up a Michelin ‘green route’ that would eventually turn east and join up with my planned route through Poretta Terme. You can see from the gradient outline that I had picked the steep alternative. The only photograph I took that day was overlooking the valley I had puffed up.

From Prunetta the gradient dropped steadily for about 10 kilometers to Poretta Terme down the deep valley of the Fiume Reno and the riding was delightful, but you had to be careful of the cracked road surface. At Ponte Della Venturina I joined the main S64 where there was a smaller road running alongside that gave a bit of respite from the traffic and went through the centre of Poretta Terme. At Silla I took the P324 and turned off up a small road leading through Bombiana to Abetaia – big mistake! I should have stayed on the main road branching off on the P623 to reach Abetaia along a steadily rising if somewhat busier road. As it was the road went straight up a ridge that never seemed to end, false summit after false summit, with the land dropping away on both sides. The views were great but it was one of those times when I clipped my helmet to a pannier and used my baseball cap to drain the sweat out of my eyes.

Eventually I joined the P623 after it had made its steady ascent and rode along it for a couple of kilometers before branching off for my next campsite. By this stage I was using my satnav again just to be sure I found the site, which was a good idea because I was aiming for the village of Maserno that wasn't identified on my map. The only village that Michelin had identified was Montese, and there were signposts for Montese pointing in every direction, as though everywhere was known as Montese. I got really confused with the map and just hoped that I had got my GPX trace right. But good for the satnav! The road twisted and turned as though it was in agony and as I got to Maserno (quite a substantial village with a shop, church, restaurant, but completely missed by Michelin) I saw a lady outside the restaurant and asked if there was a campsite here, and she waved enthusiastically up the road. My satnav was already pointing in that direction so I followed with some confidence through a public car park and through large gates into the site.

The site manager was duly sympathetic towards this newly arrived and exhausted cyclist and after learning that I had cycled from Rome said, “Ah, but now you have arrived in paradise.” I think he was probably right. The site was perched on the side of a deep valley, with a swimming pool, quaint bungalows and level terraced pitches. Mine had thick grass and clover that made for a very comfortable night. The manager offered my a beer while I cooled down and he fetched his book to register me and then, once I had washed and cleaned up, made me a meal of local cold meats and pancakes. He was quite disappointed when I only booked in for one night, and warned of the conditions down in the Po valley where I was heading next. “At Modena”, he said, “it is hot, there are mosquitos and it is very noisy.” He was definitely right!