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Prologue.

[the blog is being written on an iPhone and the picture upload is wonky. Working on getting it to behave asap]


The clock ticked over to midnight somewhere when I was on the plane heading to Rome. It was probably in Italy, but in my groggy state it could well have been back in Boston too. The 7.5 h flight was delayed by an hour due to a flat tyre (!) which made a whole 8 hours in a comfortable yet uncomfortable seat - I could never find the exact compromise between my bottom, my legs and my head. Two would be comfortable, one would not. As a result, I think i got some sleep - and the fact that I’m typing this at 10 pm Italian time suggests I did.

The rest of the flight and car ride to the base for the Giro d’Italia were unremarkable. Long, yet unremarkable. Hot, yet mostly unremarkable. And humid too. But when you travel forward in time you just have to keep going, heat, humidity or Italian driving be damned. The tightly packed bicycle had survived a TSA search and two flights from Boston to Italy, with no visible problems. It rebuilt well with nary a problem that I could spot.


So that meant ride, right? Right. Nothing too long since it had been a long day and it was close to 30C outside. A climb followed by some flight riding in the valley was the plan, so off I went.

A link to the ride is here. The climb to Alvito and the Castello at the top is relatively straight forward if you take the road (which isn’t busy), but for some reason my Garmin was sending me up the old roads. You know the ones 2 m wide with cobbles and overhanging balconies, where someone screams, hangs out the washing or berates a child daily. And also have a 10% gradient. </