Northern Italy road trip - debrief

Last time we saw Mum, we all agreed that it was hard to believe we'd barely been home two weeks.  For my part, I've really struggled to get back into the swing of things at work - not helped by pressures caused by my absence, and some pretty foul (cold and wet) weather.

Anyway, time to look back on what was an incredible trip.  This being a cycling blog, I'm going to try to keep it focused on what might be most interesting to contemplating a visit to northern Italy with bicycles.  

Vital statistics

We spent 23 nights in Italy, staying in 9 different spots:  Bormio (4 nights), Bellagio, Canazei, Paderno del Grappa and Edolo (3 nights each), Lorenzano di Cadore, Trieste and Malpensa (2 nights each), and a single night on the outskirts of Venice.  

Driving loop was clockwise:  Bellagio, Bormio, Canazei, L' di Cadore, Trieste, Dolo, P' del Grappa, Edolo, Milan

I logged 1236 kilometres, accumulated over 17 rides, with a duration of 78 hours.  Total climbing was about 26000 metres.  We had five rides over the 100km mark, with the longest being our last ride together over the Gavia and Mortirolo passes.  That ride was almost 3200m of climbing - not quite knocking the Umbrail-Stelvio loop off the top perch at 3400m.  We had two rides at 2800m, and another three around the 2000m mark!

To put all that into perspective, my total logged climbing in 2024 was about 100000m, so this three week trip was roughly a quarter of that annual total.  I'm very grateful we got away with it - both Sarah and I clearly have a lot of solid riding locked away in our legs, and they largely seem up to the task even if we don't manage to prepare well leading up to a trip.  

Road trip format

Other than a few family MTB holidays in New Zealand, I've had very little experience with cycling road trips.  Sarah, Khulan and I did try our hand at a campervan mission, visiting Tasmania in late 2023.  The fully supported Tour de France One Day Ahead trip in 2018 is another exception, but there I was treated like royalty and had a full logistics team around me, and never had to touch a steering wheel, let alone organise anything! 

The car was both a blessing and a curse.  

I'm comfortable driving on New Zealand roads, and while  fairly tolerant to road riding here, I shudder when thinking about the adjustment cycle tourists from Europe, Asia and any other "civilised" parts of the world will have to go through when they discover not only the absence of decent cycling infrastructure, but also the absence of a duty of care for more vulnerable road users.  

It is interesting to note a role reversal - during this trip, while riding I had well-founded confidence that other road users were going to do their utmost to keep me safe. On the other hand, behind the wheel, I found the highway speeds a bit hectic (130km/h a lot of the time), the roads narrow, and other drivers not that inclined to yield!  

After poring over online reviews, I finally settled on booking with Avis.  I'm sure it is in the fine print of the original contract, but there were a few extras (location surcharge in particular) that ensured the bill crept up well beyond the original "Estimated Total".  On the other hand, the fee for the damaged tyre (and tow) was very reasonable indeed, so I guess it's a case of win-some-lose-some.

While integral to the success of the holiday, that car ended up being about $200 NZ per day, and was was the source of occasional peak stress!  

Despite these grizzles, I did love discovering some of the epic tunnels up the valleys, and we'd have been oblivious to them without the car.  

Bicycles

We both road Open Cycle U.P. bikes in sweet Italian road mode, i.e. running 700c wheels with 32mm road tyres (GP 5000s for Sarah, and 4 Seasons/Gatorskin pair for me).  Our GRX groupsets were ample, and if anything, the gearing was way more suitable than compact road gearing would have been.

The only issues we had were with the brakes, which don't always take kindly to flying, and the wheels constantly going in and out for the driving legs. It was also lucky that I had a spare seat-post clamp for when I stuffed mine.  A good thing to carry, especially if you know you'll be removing the seatpost regularly...

The famous climbs

There's no denying the allure of the storied roads of the cycling world, and on this trip, Sarah and I were lucky to tick off the Ghisallo, Mortirolo (two ascents), Stelvio, Umbrail (virtually a second ascent of the Stelvio), Gavia, Pordoi, Fedaia, Croce d'Aune, and Monte Grappa.  

I'm nowhere near as familiar with the history of the Giro d'Italia as I am with the Tour de France, but even without sporting anecdotes to lean on, these long climbs were more fun to ride for knowing that they were in the coffee-table books.  Seeing with ones own eyes the way the final stretches of the Stelvio cling to the hillside is really quite special.  

100 Greatest Cycling Climbs of Italy by Simon Warren was a handy resource.

But wait, there's more...

From the hundreds of kilometres we rode, there's a stretch that really sticks out in my memory, namely,  the incredible descent we took off Monte Grappa.  I don't recognise a single (rider's) name in the Strava Top 10 times of the climb shortly after the photo below was taken, whereas one of the segments on the main climb we took has all but two of the top 20 times set during this year's Giro, and I recognise almost all of those names!  

The moral of this story for me is that the "best roads" are not necessarily ones that can fit a Grand Tour peloton, let alone their vehicle support.  Indeed, if "cuteness" is a criterion, you almost surely need to look elsewhere.  

It is entirely possible that part of why I loved that road so much (and, e.g. the climb I did alone on my final ride of the trip, from Edolo), was knowing that it was unknown, relatively speaking.  Feeling like you've stumbled upon something special adds to the sense that it is special.  

Sustenance

Italian cuisine is right up a cyclist's alley - no surprises on that front.  Most nights we ate pizza or pasta, and these went a long way to getting us through the next day's ride.  We carried very little food on the bike - I'd even go so far as to say too little, but we did get away with it.  Thanks in no small part to dinner, but also for the fact that many mountain passes had food available at or near the top, and that stretches between villages tended not to be too long.  

A few of our recent cycle tour destinations have really tested my coffee addiction, but this wasn't an issue at all in Italy (Viet Nam, you're still my all-time favourite).  Bars are commonplace, and if you're not wanting a mid-morning Spritz Aperol, the coffee machine is bound to be on.  Espresso was reasonably priced (usually about 1.25 Euro).  A cappuccino tended to be double this price, unless you sit down, in which case the coperto could double the price again!

While food was high-calorie and relatively easy to find, it wasn't cheap to eat out.  A panino for lunch was sometimes as much as 10 Euro, which was knocking on double what you might expect to pay in New Zealand.  On the other hand, a few were absolutely worth it (the panino caprese we had twice in Ampezzo, I'm looking at you...).  

My new favourite pasta dish is pizzoccheri alla Valtellinese, which while not much to look at, is an hors categorie meal if ever I had one.  

It was pretty cheap to cook at home, so it was just a matter of compromising slightly on a cultural experience (e.g. filled pasta with some pesto, avocado and mozzarella to feed three was easily within 10 Euro).  

Accommodation

I used a combination of booking.com and airbnb for our digs.  

Our room configuration wasn't super common, but I generally didn't have too much trouble finding somewhere near a village centre, and with a washing machine.  Mostly, we were in apartments, and these came with full cooking facilities (and, critically, a stovetop coffee maker).  

The bikes tended not to be a hassle - during the trip they "slept" on a balcony, in a private garage, hidden away in a garden shed, in a shared but secure atrium, and even joined us in a bedroom or two.  

Parking the car tended to be a bit more tricky.  Occasionally we had dedicated off-street parking, but more likely we'd be directed to a free but public spot.  In Trieste, we had to spring for a 24-hour carparking building which was 25 Euro per day, if memory serves.  

With the benefit of hindsight...

Aside from not puncturing the tyre in the rental car, I don't think there's much I'd do differently.  

The couple of nights in Trieste was probably the most stressful (as tour guide), and we didn't really extract much direct benefit out of being in the city (i.e. no city-based attractions).  However, the contrast helped us realise how much we'd been enjoying the valleys and villages, and the ride into Slovenia and Croatia added a lovely dimension to the trip.  

I've been thinking a bit about what a cycle tour out of Milan might look like.  The loop in the image below gives the broad strokes of a route that would set a fit individual or group up for most of our highlights.  

• Day 1:  Milan Malpensa to Bellagio via the Ghisallo is about 100km and nice shake down ride after ditching boxes at the airport.

• Days 2-3:  A ferry from Bellagio and then the Sentiero Valtellina cycle path to Bormio would be a long day (about 140km).  I'd be inclined to go via Switzerland and pass through Livigno and over Passo Foscagno to make it a solid two-days, and just shy of 200km.
  

• Days 4-5:  Three nights in Bormio would give the opportunity to visit Lago di Cancano and to do the Gavia-Mortirolo loop. 

• Days 6-7:  Bormio to Canazei via the Stelvio would be a solid two-day ride, with a bunch of options for the final half day into Canazei.  I'd happily recommend the second half of the loop Sarah and I rode (with a short side trip down to see the lake).  

• Day 8:  The Fedaia was a beast, but a loop over Passi Sella, Gardena and Campolongo to Arraba, followed by the Fedaia would be a great day's riding (we didn't ride the Gardena and Campolongo, unfortunately).  

• Day 9:  Passo Pordoi and then Passo Falzarego would be a relatively short day into Cortina.  Passo Giau instead of Falzarego would be slightly longer, but either would set you up for an extra 30km downhill run into Pieve di Cadore.  

• Day 10:  Go to Ampezzo for a panino!  

• Days 11-13:  Plenty of time to get to Monte Grappa, climb it, and enjoy some of the highlights in the vicinity (e.g. Croce d'Aune and some of the cycle path between Feltre and Bassano del Grappa).  

• Days 14-15:  Two days to Edolo via Val di Sole and Passo Tonale.  

• Days 16-17:  Back to Milan via Lago d'Iseo (which looked stunning in the rare glimpses we got of it between tunnels).  

All told, that would be an absolutely stunning loop with epic climbs, but no single day too insane, distance wise.  There would be infinitely many ways to add loops or detours, with or without leaving Italy and/or the mountains.  

To get it down to two weeks, cut out Livigno, forgo the best panino of the trip in Ampezzo, and spend a day less in the vicinity of Monte Grappa.  What a parcours - maybe I'll go and test it out some time!  And, nothing would make me happier than to hear from a happy adopter!

* * *

Especially with what's going on in the world right now, it does generally feel good to be at the arse-end of the world, miles away from it all, in little old New Zealand.  However, it isn't always great to be so far away, and Europe is about as far as it gets.  

I've documented some incredible roads on this blog:  here at home, in Tasmania, Taiwan, South Korea, between Argentina and Chile, and through South East Asia.  The Europeans cannot claim to be the only folk who know how to build spectacular road, and neither do they have a monopoly on spectacular scenery.

On the other hand, I've not seen anywhere else that has so much choice packed into a small area.  Where New Zealand has a handful of decent road climbs dotted around the country, it seems to be the case that you could pick from dozens of villages or small towns in the Italian Alps or Dolomites (not to mention elsewhere), and have more choice within riding distance of your accommodation than in the whole of New Zealand.  And, the roads you'd find would be longer, narrower, more dramatic, and generally higher quality!  

Their legend derives in part from their physical characteristics, but I've no doubt their reputation is established and amplified through their role as hosts of sporting drama.  

It was a privilege to spend time there, and having Mum with us only added to the experience, especially given her amazing command of Italian, and knowledge of the cuisine and culture.  There were plenty of highlights that would have slipped us by without her company.  

The trip also had an important role to play in our adjustment to life without Dad.  He was meant to be with us, of course, and the experiences we enjoyed were bittersweet.  After weeks of soul-searching immediately following his death in April, the three of us felt we were left with no choice but to go and have the best time we could.  I'm sure he'd be proud of us, as we are of ourselves.  This one was for you, Pops.  

Gavia-Mortirolo Loop

When we arrived in Bormio two weeks ago, Passo Gavia was closed.  We nonetheless rode an out-and-back trip to the famous Mortirolo, and had another couple of great rides.  Our intended drive over the Stelvio was stymied by a Gran Fondo, but by that time the Gavia was open, and we drove that instead.

As we prepared to leave the Monte Grappa area, I didn't deliberately book accommodation at the bottom of the Gavia-Mortirolo loop, but once we found ourselves in Edolo, and I began looking at ride options, that's exactly what I discovered.

With June 21st being Mum's 75th birthday, I figured that wasn't a day to ride a 120km loop with two gigantic mountain passes in it, so the morning prior, we had a big breakfast, suited up, and rolled out. 

I'd debated starting with the Mortirolo, but I was nervous about the long uphill drag into Bormio, and then Passo Gavia itself, so decided to do the loop in the very un-Buddhist anticlockwise direction. 

We left Edolo through a short one-ish lane tunnel, before beginning the 20km climb up the valley to Ponte di Legno.

Leaving Edolo

Work on a cycleway up the valley is in progress, and while a section near Edolo isn't yet completed, we were able to get off the main road after about 7km.  Not before we'd passed the bottom of the descent off the Mortirolo, which I pointed out to Sarah as we rode by.

I was confident the cycleway would have a number of endearing features:  no traffic, lower gradients, and shade, and indeed these were all true to form.  To achieve these, we probably added a kilometre or two to the ride distance, and we bypassed all the towns so were not lured into any coffee stops.  

I was well and truly ready for second breakfast by the time we reached Ponte di Legno, and that probably affected my ability to efficiently find somewhere to stop.  Once we'd settled, we inhaled a ham and cheese toastie each, and due cappucini, and then it was time to crack into the climb proper.  

I'd not mapped the cycleway, so had quit out of the course on my GPS.  Not restarting it and then following driving directions to Passo Gavia had us do an unnecessary loop around the town, with the very tenuous silver lining being a 2 minute descent into the base of the climb.

We were deep in MTB territory, and there were many signposted routes around.  The road we'd taken in the car went over Passo Tonale, into Val di Sole, where the MTB World Cup round is on as I type.  

The climb was being well used by road cyclists, with a curious feature being that the majority we saw were women.   After mimicking a couple at a fountain - where the man's apparent job was to tip cold water over his woman-friend - I set off just behind a trio of women who were in light-weight touring mode.  

It was really nice to be riding road that was somewhat familiar, and I recognised many elements of the road from our drive.  On the other hand, it was nice not to be fixated on the road itself, and nervous about meeting oncoming traffic, and instead I was able to enjoy the absolutely  majestic surroundings. 

Especially impressive was a stream across the valley, which seemed to be running down a ridge, having carved out a small gully for itself.  Unusual, and very cool.   

I'd been swapping positions with the leading two women from the trio - I'd initially passed all three of them, but by virtue of my photo stops, and their lack thereof, I was riding in third wheel when I arrived at a tunnel a few kilometres below the pass.  I decided to stop there and wait for Sarah.

Bypassing the tunnel was an old road, and I sat at the very end of a rock retaining wall, and soaked in exquisite scenery while waiting.  

The majority of cyclists were using the tunnel, but I did see one roadie take the old road on foot, and a couple of mountain bikers came down it, no doubt enjoying their vehicle choice.  When Sarah arrived, we decided we too would check out the road, but realised it was mostly going to be hike-a-bike.  

Passage on foot gave us a good chance to see what we were passing, and this included a few memorials, including one for a group that had lost their lives when their vehicle had lost the road.  

Sarah managed to ride more than I did, and we were soon back on the road.

By this stage, we were well above 2000m, and we passed a few remnants of snow.  I asked Sarah to rest on one, figuring it would both make for a fun photo, but also serve to cool her down a bit!

We had another couple of kilometres to reach the pass itself, and I made good use of my early arrival by ordering some coffee and cake to celebrate Sarah's arrival.  I did buy a cute but outrageously priced Passo Gavia memento, but drew the line at a lederhosen skinsuit...

The air was warm still, and we decided to try the descent to Bormio without wrapping up.  It was amazing to see the lake we'd stopped at with mum, now completely devoid of ice.  

What a difference two weeks made, as is evident from these before and after shots taken from roughly the same spot:

8 June 2025

20 June 2025

The descent towards Bormio was about as nice to ride as it had been to drive up - very pleasant indeed.  I had a hankering for some gelato, but as we approached Bormio, Sarah seemed to have flicked a switch somewhere in her brain that meant she was done with riding.  In a fluster, I completely bypassed the town, so to add insult to injury, there was no icecream to fuel our 25km down-valley run to the base of the Mortirolo.

I certainly could have done with it, and as we battled one of the few literal headwinds we've had, we were also battling an even more significant figurative one.  We stopped many times, during which I failed to ply half a banana into Sarah, noted that if she stopped to wait for a pick up, she'd be waiting about 4 hours, and had generally a miserable time.  

Eventually we reached the base of the climb, on the route we'd descended in our earlier ride.  There was signage every half a kilometre, which kindly reported progress and warned about the average and maximum gradients in the next stretch.  

Had I been alone, it would have been one of the nicer climbs of the trip - the gradient was generally surprisingly mellow, the road surface was top notch (presumably thanks to the road featuring in Stage 17 of this year's Giro), and for a decent chunk of it, we were in the shade.  

I waited for Sarah for a while at the intersection with our climbing route, just over 3km from the top.  There, I was intrigued to notice something that had slipped my attention earlier, which was that motorised vehicles all had to descend on the road we'd just come up.  Which, given the width of the road, was probably a good call!

From the intersection, we were stuck with the style of the signage on the other route, namely, the distance and gradient until the next switchback!  I have to admit, I preferred the 500m updates!

I waited again at the pass, and had Sarah's jacket ready for her when she arrived.  I'd been giving Mum updates, and I reported relief that the forecast thunderstorm had not yet materialised.  The mountain pass would have been an uncomfortable place to be with lightning pinging off around you.

The descent back to Edolo was nice, and we passed a few restaurants serving gaggles of motorcyclists, and then rode through the town of Monno, a few minutes above the main valley road, which returned us to Edolo. 

Mum was waiting patiently for us, and as we hoed into a bag of chippies, and sliced tomato and mozzarella, we realised we had enough food for a picnic dinner.  We hadn't exactly ended our riding on a high note, but it was nonetheless nice to have ridden this classic loop.  

Stats:  123km ridden, 3170m climbed over a 10 hour duration...  

Postscript

I couldn't let that ride be my last on this incredible trip, so the next morning headed out on a "short" 45km loop.  A few kilometres from Edolo, I turned onto an unheralded climb up to the ridge southwest of Passo Mortirolo.  

Three switchbacks from the valley road, I got a whiff of what I was in for...

The road was indeed brutally steep in parts, though generally had opportunities for respite as well.  I stopped a few times for photos, and another few to catch my breath.  

Eventually, I'd broken the back of the climb, and pretty much drained any residual power out of my legs.  An intersection with a road from Passo Mortirolo heralded the start of a nice flat section, during which time my energy levels slowly returned.  

I was surprised to find myself riding into a cute valley and had to ride between a tractor and its mower which was tending to the uphill verge.  

Then came a steep descent into Aprica.  If I'd gone straight ahead, I'd have eventually found myself at the northern tip of Lake Como!  After faffing around in a futile search for a pick-me-up, I hooned back down the valley to Sarah and the birthday girl, finding them both finishing up their midday Aperol Spritzes at a nearby bar.  Pooped, I was nonetheless glad to have gotten out.

Stats:  48km ridden, including a 900vm stretch at an average gradient of 10.5%.  Beastly, in a good way.  

Monster Grappa

"We shouldn't be too long" was about the last thing I said to Mum when we left for a short loop including the summit of Monte Grappa.  Famous last words...!

Rather than head down the main drag, we climbed higher onto the flank of the mountain before traversing on some lovely wee road through to the base of the climb.  

We were both feeling a little under-nourished, so we took a short detour, and soon had demolished additional coffee, and a cornetto for me.  I also grabbed a couple of baked goodies to takeaway.  A sign across the road read "Cima Grappa 27" and my Strava route suggested something like a 1500m climb.  A whopper by any definition.  

It was hot already, and the first switchback and the road leading to and from it, suggested we weren't going to get a lot of shade.    

On the other hand, the gradient was very nice, enough to eat into the remaining vert, but not so steep regular climbing out of the saddle was necessary.  

Even though the trees below the road weren't offering much shade, they were mostly obscuring the view over Bassano del Grappa - the main town in these parts.  But, from time to time, we did get views, and on one occasion I paused to watch one of many paragliders already out and about.  

I'd stop to wait for Sarah every 20 minutes or so, and I had plenty of time to enjoy the road and its features.  I enjoyed a very short tunnel that had alcoves painted per the Italian flag, and which was sporting some nasty scars from an oversized vehicle.  

As the road shifted onto the western face of the mountain, we enjoyed great views over the Brenta River, and I could even make out the pedestrian bridge we'd used towards the end of the previous day's ride.  

When Sarah joined me, she reported being a bit low on energy, and so we promptly consumed the only food we were carrying.  About 15 minutes later, we came upon an open Osteria, and ordered some pizza for lunch - this was already proving to be slow going.  

The pizza took a while to be served, but was bloody delicious, packed with tomato, mozzarella and basil.  Acqua (frizzante) washed it down nicely.  

As we were leaving, the signage suggested we were now "only" 10km from the summit.  Woohoo!

Monte Grappa was the scene of some fierce battles between the Italians and the Austo-Hungarian Empire during World War 1.  I stopped at a monument to discover that the bend was named "The lap of death", and only then noticed the pock-marks in the gully behind me - remnants of grenade craters.  

That was all pretty depressing, but it was impossible not to be cheered up by the abundant cows alongside the road.  The each wore a collar with a bell, and as they moved and chewed, the bells clunked, and when there were many cows together, they made a delightful racket.

I waited for Sarah just above a turnoff to Feltre, where we'd had lunch the day before.  I'd read that Monte Grappa has 10 distinct ascents, and had chosen the climb that was ridden during Stage 15 of this year's Giro.  I think the peloton probably turned off at this point, but we were heading further up!

We stopped to investigate a memorial to the Resistenza armata contra il nazifascismo, who no doubt had died valiantly on this hillside.  From there it was about another kilometre to the end of the road.  I went up to the summit on foot, leaving Sarah to have a rest in the carpark.  

It turned out my proposed route off the summit was a mere goat track, so we backtracked and took a left turn onto another sealed road.  We soon came to another intersection, and I scrolled my map a bit to discover it connected to the goat track! 

We took the turn, and found ourselves on an absolutely incredible piece of road.  First was a very narrow sidle, with a series of one lane tunnels.  

The drop to our right was often sheer, and we were given spectacular views down over the morning's traverse, and beyond.  

As if all this was not stimulation enough, once we'd rejoined our planned route, we found ourselves on a stunning rollercoaster ride down a small valley.  Whoever had built it really had a talent!

All good things must come to an end, and this sweetest section lead us onto a short, sharp climb which took us to the top of the main descent to our village.  Over the next 10km, we peeled off 1000 vertical metres, stopping regularly to let our brakes cool!  

Once back at base, we quickly got changed and went for a drive with Mum.  We managed to find a landing area for the paragliders, and watched three come in in quick succession.

We then headed for the river, and found the local Ponte Vecchio, which Mum knew was going to be nothing more than a wooden bridge.  From it, we could see the very spot that Sarah and I had taken photos some five hours earlier.  It was all very circular, given that the previous evening, we were crossing the same river on a bridge a few kilometres upstream.  

It was a bit of a bummer to keep Mum waiting for longer than we'd led her to expect.  But we had a lovely evening outing, and knocked back a very traditional Italian meal just before getting back to base.  Tomorrow, we move to our penultimate accommodation, in the hills just north of Lake Garda.  

Stats:  a mere 63km ridden, during which we climbed 2000m, two-thirds in a single ascent of Monstrous Monte Grappa.  Definitely more calories burnt than consumed.  And, we lucked out to descend what I bet is the most charming of the ten roads to the top of Monte Grappa, but probably hard to enjoy as a climb!

Back to the hills - Croce d'Aune

Mum had never been to Venice, and nor had Sarah, so after leaving Trieste, we made our way to a hotel within striking distance.  Arriving mid-afternoon, I assembled the bikes, but put more than the advertised 5Nm into my seat clamp (or, it was getting tired and could no longer cope with that).  Luckily, I'd packed a spare, which I gingerly installed.  

It took most of a 58km ride to get over that, but eventually I stopped dwelling on it, and started enjoying turning the pedals over.  We first rode to a ferry terminal from which we could see Venice in the middle of the lagoon, and then rode into Venice itself.  While bikes are not welcome beyond a certain point, you can ride right up to where the local buses drop people off.  It was useful to scope things out for a family mission the next day.

Once back with Mum, we went in search of dinner.  I declined to head down a narrow alley to a highly rated restaurant, but soon after saw a sign advertising "Italian Street Food".  We agreed to give this a shot, and were soon strolling past stall after stall, selling all manner of things other than local fare.  I decided we must have missed some punctuation, e.g. "Italian Street: Food" might have been more appropriate.  That said, we did in the end find a stall that sold incredibly arancini and a pretty decent carbonara.  

After enjoying the hustle-bustle for a bit, we got fleeced at an impressive liquorice stall, before returning home with our tails between our legs.  

The next morning, upon hearing that the bus from our hotel to Venice was 9 Euro per person each way, we thought we'd take our chances with the parking building Sarah and I had scoped out the evening before.  The pricing there turned out to be a flat daily rate of 35 Euro, but at least it was cheaper than the bus, and way more time efficient.  

We got all-you-can eat "bus" passes (boats, of course), and then spent a lovely few hours sightseeing.

Once we'd had our fill, we headed back to the car, and plotted a route vaguely towards our next accommodation.  I wanted to divert into Padua, to see if I could find a replacement seatpost clamp.  A small shop recommended Decathlon, and while they didn't have the right item, Sarah enjoyed a bit of shopping instead!  Their check-out system was pretty amazing - a bin, into which you dumped all of the things you were buying, from which it sorted out how much you needed to pay - no scanning necessary!

Rain had started by the time we reach our digs, but even had it been dry, I don't think I'd have mustered the energy to suit up for a spin.

We had porridge for breakfast, and I enjoyed doing the dishes, not least because the "dish-rack" consisted of an entire cupboard above the sink!

That done, we got ready to set off.  We were in the shadow of Monte Grappa, but in scoping out a loop around it, I'd stumbled upon the fact that the base of Croce d'Aune was on the loop.  All up, it looked like it might be a long day, but with only the single major climb, I hoped it wouldn't be too arduous.

Cycling is well and truly celebrated in these parts, and it was fun to see remnants of the recent Giro d'Italia.  As it turned out, Stage 15 passed through here only a few weeks ago.

I noticed a bike shop - Biron Bike - and decided to stop to see if they had a seat clamp.  While the fellow was searching (to no avail), I enjoyed looking at some of his souvenirs from his past life as a pro race mechanic.  He even has a range of bikes in his name.   

Our route to the base of the Croce d'Aune left much to be desired, and we were on a main road for most of the way.  After a stop for coffee and some pizza in Feltre, we got stuck into the climb.  Traffic was very light, with the highlight being a tractor on a tractor.  

As we climbed in the heat, I mentioned to Sarah that I thought she'd be safe "pretending that you're in New Zealand" - the shady side of the road tended to be the wrong side!  

The climb was almost entirely in forest, but occasionally we got cracking views that only hill climbs can bring.  It is no wonder that I love them so much.

The pass at Croce d'Aune caught me by surprise, as it wasn't at the top of the climb I'd mapped out.  In any case, we stopped to admire the Tullio Campagnolo sculpture.  Inner Ring has a very interesting account of the history here, and if true, the inspiration for the quick release lever came from an ascent of this very climb!  I'd worn Oli's classic colours, complete with Campag logo, especially for this moment.

After a pick me up at the adjacent bar, we spent another few minutes climbing, which again, afforded lovely views.  

Then, we got stuck into the descent, during which we'd peel off about 700 vertical metres, on a near deserted road.  Of cars, that is - poor Sarah got stung by a wasp near the top, and then ended up with another biting thing in her jersey...

Once on the main road, we were able to bypass a 1km-long tunnel, which was fascinating.  The tunnel wouldn't have been too bad as it was on a descent, but we passed some spectacular cliffs, a waterfall, and I even saw a metre long snake scurrying off the road.  

Very soon after we rejoined the main road, I noticed a cycle-route sign, and thought we'd be crazy not to follow it.  We deviated significantly from the route I'd mapped near Arsie, where we stopped for gelati and to contemplate which way to proceed.  In the end, it proved to be a great choice to stick with the cycle route, as aside from some lovely quiet road, it provided some real highlights.

After quite a long loop in the wrong direction, we found ourselves riding down a series of fortified switchbacks, something I've never seen before in all my years of switchback riding.   

Next up was a lovely bit of old railway line alongside a river, deep in a gorge.  It was really busy with riders, including families, cycle tourists, and fully kitted out roadies.  At the end was a cafe that wasn't able to entice us in, despite knowing we'd be very welcome indeed.

We had a fair way still to ride, but it was down valley, and while we were riding into a light-headwind, gravity and my great gelato-legs were making easy work of it (gelato-legs are not to be confused with jelly-legs, which make for poor progress...!!!).  It probably also helped that the surroundings were wonderful - a mix of natural features, as well as an assortment of infrastructure and dwellings.

I got a little bit navigationally confused as we approached Bassano del Grappa, but after a short back-track, we crossed the river on a pedestrian bridge (sitting on top of a canal...!) before beginning the eastward climb up to our village on the flanks of Monte Grappa.  

Above us were a couple of dozen paragliders, which my camera did a poor job of capturing...

We soon joined our driving route of the afternoon prior, and as we got close to home, things were even more familiar courtesy of a supermarket run.  We needn't have stopped in for another box of pistacchio gelato (pronounced "piss-tar-key-oh" here) - we got home to find our hostess had stashed three epic bowls of panna cotta in our fridge while we were all out...!  The gelato will live to fight another day.

More Giro remnants to distract during the final minutes of the ride, and then it was time to find out what Mum had been up to.

Our accommodation is adjacent to a pizzeria, which we'd planned to go to for dinner (it was closed the night prior).  We'd been warned it was popular, and that was no exaggeration.  We did manage to get a table, and had three delicious and very well priced pizza for dinner.  Perhaps that along explains the popularity, but we look forward to quizzing our hostess (and thanking her profusely for the dessert) tomorrow.  

Stats:  Venice shakedown ride was 59 pan-flat km.  a  The Croce d'Aune loop was 120km, with total climbing of just over 1700m.  This was the longest ride of the trip so far, and it provided clear evidence that we've got fitter!  Temperature range 24 to 36 degrees.  3 stings for Sarah.