Day two of our descent from the Tuscan hills to the sea, and the first discovery is that the hills of Perugia are just as beautiful.
Actually I tell a lie: our first discovery is that the bread shop doesn’t open on a Sunday morning. Dare we stretch to a seven euro breakfast at the hotel? Why yes, we do. And what a fine investment that turns out to be! Our first brekkers that isn’t bread and jam. Instead, yoghurt, eggs and bacon, bread and butter (butter!), fruit salad, sugary bun things, and croissants, next to which are curious devices holding jam, nutella, and sweetmeats varied, whose mysteries are revealed by watching other patrons: you impale a croissant on the spike, then work the lever to inject frankly inexcusable amounts of gooey yumminess right into the heart of the pastry. Bliss! And just the thing to set you up for an assault on the first 20 k’s.
Which start out in a mist so thick you can barely see the road ahead, but after 10 minutes or so of swooping (not to say freezing) descent, begins dissipating to reveal…a lovely day!
“Nice to ride with the near-assurance that you won’t get rained on,” I say to Jens. “I suppose that’s a pretty low bar for a fun holiday.” But ’tis so, and Jens concurs.
And so the day proceeds, with long, swooping descents and mostly flatness through a green, lush landscape, glowing emerald after recent rains.
As usual, the day ends with a sting in the tail – a long climb on a near-deserted road, sidelined by a parallel motorway, followed by a juddering descent on a patchwork road with whole sections reduced to ancient cobbles, and others where the tarmac has disintegrated, leaving raw wounds, metres wide and inches deep. Concentration time!
And so to our Airb&b, and another half hour ride for Jens, to collect supplies for dinner from the only open supermarket in town. “I just can’t face another pizza!” 😀
PS Boy was it worth it! (Speaking as the one who didn’t have what turned out to be an hour’s round trip, or cook.)
