Maybe EuroVelo 8

April - July 2023
A 111-day adventure by Jay Read more
  • 25footprints
  • 7countries
  • 111days
  • 385photos
  • 3videos
  • 2.8kmiles
  • 624miles
  • Day 32

    Soave

    May 11, 2023 in Italy ⋅ 🌧 57 °F

    I regretfully I packed the tent and headed Southeast out of Lake Iseo. Skirting the Italian alps on my right, through Brescia and then Verona. That night I camped out past the town in a field. Up feeling chippery I saw on the map a challenge path I could take with the extra time I had before Venice. I cut up to my right, Northeast into the hills toward Vicenza. No country for old men were those climbs. Then I broke into Soave.

    Today Italy lives amid the ruins of a once great superpower state. So many breathtaking ancient and near ancient buildings stand around without purpose or attention. These tattered structures aren’t in the big league of tourist attractions. Busses of foreigners never come. They seem to just sit by the road waiting like a dog waits for its master to pull into the driveway.

    Not so Soave. Inside the medieval castle walls was a full on bazaar or souk. Startled, I rode right into the crowd thrilled with my afternoon discovery that everybody else seemed to already know about. There too were the tourist busses. The stalls were as long as trailers modified with a display side open, end to end, one after the other. Fish next to women’s fashion dresses next to handbags next to brioche and baguettes.

    Back out on the road the rural countryside repeats. A well groomed olive grove, trimmed grape vineyard and a shimmering field of barley. Again and again, just that.
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  • Day 33

    Once in a Lifetime

    May 12, 2023 in Italy ⋅ 🌧 59 °F

    #1 Every town has a Madonna altar on the side of the road leading into town. Usually just Mary behind glass or grill for good fortune. This one was a touch over the top. Maybe angling for more.
    #2 Frank and Carolyn Schwarz met in me in Venezia on their mission to deliver a Sefer Torah to Lev Chadash in Milan.
    #3 My bunk room at the mega hostel in Venezia. Six in this room. Some eight, some four. Old, young, mixed gender, shared bathroom, any Europe, maybe Moroccan North African, pick a language. $21-$33 a night for this. It rained off and on for five days in Venezia.
    #3,4 Common kitchen. Cook anything you’d like, just clean up. With Lilly and Minodi my roommates from Japan.
    #5 Abundant ristorantes. Did you know gnocchi are dough balls in sauce?
    #6 King size Nutella pumper. I’d eat more of it if it weren’t so much like dessert.
    #7 I had to get us cheap sunglasses despite the weather.
    #8 My companion here is a fixture in town, works nights.
    #9,#10 These are imbedded outside the doorways of the houses of deported Jews and others. The fate of those souls is noted. They are called stolperstein in German which means stumbling stones.
    #11 What one such doorway looks like today.
    #12, #13 Venetian ghetto square where Jews were forced to live in the fifteen hundreds. This is the place where the English word ghetto originated. Fairly interesting causes and conditions about this place. And a memorial from Venezia toward those there, come and gone.
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  • Day 35

    Venezia! Step right up!

    May 14, 2023 in Italy ⋅ ☁️ 57 °F

    Two days tramping through the vehicle free island of Venice. No cars, scooters, bicycles, skate boards, horses or rickshaws. Walked ten miles each day through tight alleyways, over canal crossing arches and traversed open squares. Take away: not super favorable. Man!, was it ever crowded and it’s not high season yet. The perpetual foot traffic is tempted with abundant retail snags. Many appealing storefront restaurants, sweet shops and souvenir kitsch. The wealthy really do live on the island tucked away inconspicuously behind authentic decay and genuine antiquity. We though wander through the dark damp alley maze, camera ready, looking for a postable Instagram snapshot. It’s me, on the peak of the arch bridge, shoulder three quarters to the canal below, smiling like I assaulted Everest. The backdrops are identical repeats. It’s my own grin, photographically scabbed onto the scene, that makes it mine. The cannolis are good. People seem to enjoy the classic orange Aperol spritz, a lot. The line to see inside St. Mark’s Cathedral would make Epcot’s line blush in embarrassment. The gulls are as big as chickens.Read more

  • Day 45

    Slovenia, really?

    May 24, 2023 in Croatia ⋅ ☁️ 75 °F

    Slovenia is really a country all on its own. Melanie Trump was born here. It’s does better economically than others around. Mainly it’s tucked under Austria, above Croatia and beside Hungary. Americans learn geography by who we bomb so it’s okay. (Iran or Iraq, still don’t know which is which). I think the coast is gorgeous but they only got a little after separating from Yugoslavia. Just 47 km, that’s 29 miles in Freedom Units. The rest is mountains and forests, sounds good to me.
    Watched the sun go down on a hill top so had to sleep in the woods. 100 Euros if I get caught, didn’t. Can you see my tent in the trees?
    Aquilea was an ancient Roman town I ran into, technically just inside Italy but nobody in togas. Weird to see tile work that ancient Romans walked on in bare feet.
    Down from the mountains to the Adriatic Sea (that’s what this part of the Mediterranean Sea is called) for a fish market.
    That is what’s called a sailing yacht. Bezos now has one bigger than all the rest. (that’s not it) Undersail it really must be breathtaking. But as I’ve been told by someone who knows, the bigger the boat the less it actually goes out and ever gets used.
    A pair of Apersol spritzes. Why am I obsessed? Never tasted Zima either.
    Next is plain old world technical problem solving.
    Last is just a point of pride found a long way from Pittsburgh.
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  • Day 48

    S. Croatia panhandle, not like Pensacola

    May 27, 2023 in Croatia ⋅ ☀️ 79 °F

    Crossed out of Slovenia then hugged the coast circuiting around the Istria peninsula. Camped on Krk Island. Then squeezed between the sea and the Velebit Mountains. Entered small towns, each marked with a shrine to the Virgin Mary. Equally constant are pastry shops that bring joy. Looking down a street and the statuary I guess Croatia has a bit of that ol’ Soviet Bloc feeling’ of the old Yugoslavia.

    Sometimes 10% or steeper climbs and drops once or twice during a riding day. One day also enjoyed 25 mph gusting headwinds. Too much for one day, far away from anywhere, drove into the brush by a concrete plant and sat for the night. Discretion is the better part of valor the expression goes. Better to avoid a dangerous situation than to confront it.

    Next morning, out of food and water there was the remainder of the climb. From nowhere, halfway up, out of the side of the mountain was this flowing fountain of cold drinkable water! Dedicated to Joseph II, Holy Roman Emperor of the Habsburg monarchy in late 1700’s. (in 1782 he announced his Edict of Tolerance that allowed Jews to practice freely so became called The Enlightened Despot by some) Thanks dude!

    Most seen roadside trash. Beer and an energy drink endorsed in Croatia by Bruce Willis.

    Down at sea level some of the Mediterranean is affordable to regular families. Maybe the industrial plant in the distance keeps real estate prices in check.

    Look at what else I saw in Croatia! A Pittsburgh Post Gazette recipe on the side of a seaside bodega.
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  • Day 51

    Now this is a little bit of alright.

    May 30, 2023 in Croatia ⋅ ⛅ 68 °F

    Weirdly blue water on the right. A surprising unnatural blue like seeing blue tinted contacts in someone’s eyes. Sunburn on my left arm. Rows of condos, brilliant white cubes stacked as they might have tumbled from a hand. Front decks fitted with glass panels and stainless railings. But some sidewalks are unpoured. Careful attention is required to walk along through the gravel and rebar spikes at ankle level. Remodeling contractors dump lumps of concrete and broken tile debris at midnight in the gaps between buildings. That’s what I saw in Split, Croatia.
    The Optika Anda guy is everywhere. Must be what Croatian Cool looks like. I’d add the classic casual wrap around neck scarf but we’re not in Italy anymore.
    I have to mention the roadside memorials I see here. They are always twenty- something boys. I don’t understand the language. I don’t know the why or how for them. For me, I’ve had my own experience. Every time I see one I lose focus on the white line paint that leads me down my side the road.
    A classic Citroen means the French are here. But mostly it’s the Germans in the middle of yet another world invasion. In the campgrounds I share with RVs, it’s usually German I hear out loud. EU vehicle license plates have identifying initials for the country of origin. I’ve seen thousands this trip. Other than the initials for the country I’m in, it is almost always a D for Deutschland or A for Austria. Rains a lot in both places so I’d get out too. Also it’s pretty cheap for to come and stay by the sea in Croatia.
    The other pictures are better landscapes than I deserve, a French friend, campsite pitches and the food that goes with this type of travel.
    Tomorrow I will cut through Dubrovnik as fast as I can. I mostly have trouble with traffic in big cities unless a there’s breakfast pastry that gives me the eye to pull over.
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  • Day 59

    Albania

    June 7, 2023 in Albania ⋅ ☁️ 73 °F

    Albania is not in the EU and they don’t use, but will accept, the euro. This Albanian experience is only with the coast. From the beach the Greek inland of Corfu is in the distance and the heel of Italy is right across the Strait of Otranto and not a bad boat ride away. It’s definitely a different country. The poorest overall and an economic collapse within in the last thirty years. It suffered a nationwide Ponzi scheme bilking three quarters of the population to some degree. I’m told the interior is deserted of cars. Here on the other hand it’s lousy with early model Mercedes Benz’. They must come here from richer countries to live out the balance of their useful lives. They’re kept spotless. Within every short distance is a ‘lavazho’ where cars are detailed, mostly by the only men I’ve seen work at all. In the morning groups of threes and fours are sitting at cafes in front of half empty glasses of warm beer smoking hand rolled cigarettes. Not appearing unfriendly they just look out to the street and talk quietly.
    More Muslim, less Christian. Loudspeakers on the minarets call to prayer five times a day. Somebody’s donkey grazes roadside and a herd of sheep are heading somewhere. Three wheeled hay carts take advantage of a newly paved road we shared. The pollution makes me sad. Albanians do not drink their own water. Drinking water is all bottled. Faucet water is not trusted for internal consumption. I imagine not only because of biological contaminants but chemical contamination too. Like Flint. Uncollected piles of household type garbage mounds and surrounds the roadside bins. The greasy rancid smell like the dumpster in the alley behind a restaurant starts before you see it and lingers after you pass it.
    The sole construction method is wood forms filled with concrete and reinforcing bar. The whole building is created this one way, the column supports, the decks, stairs and walls. Poured all at once. Closing the structure in and the finish electrical and plumbing seem to then wait around for the shoemaker’s elves. But that’s when the big money has to be put up and investors have to decide to get serious or not. Mostly not, because the tourist economy is just not super strong compared to a better Croatia and is diluted with so many unfinished concrete bunkers waiting for tourist demand to push completion.
    It could happen. Just probably not by happenstance. There is beauty. The Mediterranean is translucent clear blue. It’s not real hot and there will be rain.
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  • Day 61

    Albania, leave a goat, take a goat.

    June 9, 2023 in Albania ⋅ ☀️ 77 °F

    Albania is a place where you don’t trust most tap water. Not any water unless you actually see it squirting fresh out of the mountainside. It does in places and people stock up. Albania can’t afford EU standards just yet. But it’s the most authentic, open hearted place so far. The countryside is mountainous and polluted in places but if you squint to overlook the trash, it’s as pretty as anywhere. Biking down the coast, food prices got even cheaper than Croatia and Montenegro.
    Stayed at the secret beach two nights, danced, hiked and swam but it was time to go. Paid the Toyota pickup driver €15 to drive 2 km back up the wash to the road. Worth every cent. See video.
    There was the next 1000m climb then sunset in Mursi, Albania. As a note, very second the EU cell phone SIM card, and I, crossed into Albania my phone turned into a brick. No maps, no fine dining, no weather, no campsites. Getting late, real burnt and nowhere to hide to sleep to called over the chicken wire fence to a woman for advice. Not understanding a word of English, the next step was the pantomime. Fingertips touching together pointing for the peak of a tent sign. Then palms together sideways for the universal sleeping sign. Then deliver the wanting hangdog look and people understand in any language. The husband was called out and he answered with the equally universal “ C’mon on in!” arm sweep.
    Charades is even funnier in Albanish. We watched the domestic low budget versions of Who Wants to be a Millionare? (In Albanian Leks I guess) and Wheel of Fortune (no Pat or Vanna). We all ate well the fish he caught and the vegetables they were given. They had the one upstairs room for dining and bed and the downstairs for cooking and sanitary and where I slept that night. They were happy and generous and said no money. But I don’t always listen.
    Next night, same lack of tech wherewithal. Landed at the Shrine of Saint Barbara just before a rain. The sextant stopped by after a couple hours and I got the treasured permission to stay the night. What I didn’t realize was a lot. A regional shrine means people really come all day and night to donate, light a candle and pray. Among those is always a “scolder” who seems to delight calling out petty infractions. Had one of those in the middle of the night that needed set straight. I had the foresight to snap a picture of me with the sextant for proof but he got tired of debating first. I get the same type all day regarding road lane discipline where there isn’t a shoulder or even much road at all. Sometimes I get it even as to where the bike should locate when stopping at a fruit stand. These folks are not American level aggressive just for the pleasure of confrontation. They just seem interested in keeping their public universe in order.
    Next night, knackered again. Snuck off an intersection back up an access road. Sixteen beehives minding their own business and I did the same. Did you know they all come home at night and sleep together? The next working day doesn’t start until the sun hits the box then it’s - game on!
    Blazing colorful roadside wildflowers double in return the hope lost by seeing the things humans do.
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  • Day 83

    Greece 101

    July 1, 2023 in Greece ⋅ ☀️ 86 °F

    Greece, yup it’s nice. Flowed out of Albania across an unmarked boarder back into the EU and into the last of my visa free Schengen countries. There is a different vibe between Albania and Greece. Generally (emphasis added) speaking, some Greeks I spoke with think Albanians are thugs. Greece is Eastern Orthodox Christian from like forever and Albania used to be Christian but the Turkish Ottomans rearranged things Arabic. So that could be part of it but Albania is also thought to have a robust underworld syndicate operating around Greece. Not cool when Greece is trying to climb out of near default on what they borrowed from the Germans in the last decades. Such are neighbors.

    Down the Greek coast camping along the way. Immediately Greek writing makes everything look like a trigonometry exam or a scientific paper. The truck could be saying Free Taylor Swift Tickets or Take A Sandwich Please, idk.

    Along the coastal roads I followed the artistic work of this anonymous unsanctioned urban artist working in black, white and grey. My outlook on life would slip toward dismal if I didn’t occasionally get slapped back awake by accessible Street art. The shading must be tough to get right with a spray can.

    An oil facility (no photography please said the sign). Weird because I have hardly seen even one cloud that would interrupt solar power generation. Wind is often strong too. So much energy just lying around.

    Arrived in Piraeus, the port for Athens, and took an island hopping ferry ride that ended on Crete. Unknown to me at the time I would spend the next two weeks on this Greek island.

    P.S. What’s with all the Freda Kahlo? She was Mexican as I recall. For my money I’ll go with Georgia O’Keeffe instead if I wanted to make a statement.
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