Getting started right in the middle of La Spezia today. I’m a little turned around, but I’ll figure it out. Headed south down the coast.

Such a magnificent way to start the morning! Here, I’m in front of the La Spezia A Garibaldi MCMXII in the central park of the city.

Robert, on the right, spoke the best English. They were riding motorcycles cross country.

The three sisters that I met on the street in La Spezia. We all had that wide-eyed “which way do we go” look. The Kahl sisters were from Missoula and they just flew in from a friend’s wedding in Germany.

I hopped another train after spending too much time at the beach. Got past the mountains to the coast at La Spezia.

The sisters – Katie, Krista and Karlie, adopted me after I asked if I could slee on the floor of their apartment they found online; nice place. We all went out to a classy joint, Taverna La Zigoela, for dinner. I had my first ravioli with buffalo cheese.  My review: It was good and I ate it all. Better than the Italian tuna out of a can I had the night before.

Met some fellow travelers today in Rapallo and spent the day at the beach because their stories were better than mine.  🙂

The 20-somethings traveled in a pack. There were four of them; friends from different countries. All spoke perfect English, as well as three other languages.

“We’re couch surfing,” said Lauren. “We find lodging on line, but last night the guy lied on his profile. He said he was a naturalist, but he was really a nudist, and he was into “stuff” and only wore a t-shirt that didn’t cover his jimmies.”

“But it was cool,” said Mirandia. “We outnumbered him. I wasn’t worried a bit, but yeah, he was a little creepy.”

The girls and their friends stayed two nights. They were hitchhiking Italy on a dime thinner than mine.

“We spent last night on the public beach,” Lauren said, “It was okay, except for the mosquitos.””

The “naturalist” story was a bit grittier than I’m portraying above. The girls confidently giggled their way through the conversation.

They took encounters in stride. “You hope for the best when you couch surf, but sometimes people lie in their profiles,” said Lauren, who was the most naive in the bunch, according to her friends.

The hitchhiking was interesting, as well. Sometimes they had to split up to catch a ride. Not many of the small Italian cars had room for four.

“We text each other to know where we’re at, and we don’t ask people for rides. We just have a lot of drama when we hold a sign,” explained Lauren.

Some intriguing insight:
One said her mother didn’t know she was on this trip.
They said it was easy to hop the train without a ticket. If the ticketmaster came around, just pretend you don’t understand his language.

They were gutsy and crafty; no worries.

Made it over the mountain to get to the shoreline road. After passing through a tunnel, I came upon this beautiful church, Dioceai de Chivari.

There’s a raised marble pulpit and teal blue crystals in the chandeliers. I hear music and think it’s a CD, but find it’s a nun cleaning at the altar. The song she’s humming sounds somewhat familiar and I could swear it’s “Varsity.”

U-Rah-Rah, Wisconsin!

Stopping for 10:30 a.m. mass at S. Giovanni Battista just outside of Camogli. Very ornate church with ceilings that look like they’re painted in gold leaf.

The “Aleannas”

Two girls, both named Aleanna, sell sweets for scouts outside the front of the church. They hold their hand to cover their mouths and giggle as I talk. Finally, they’re able to say “in 30 minutes” when I ask for the time of the next mass service.

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Some of the sights overlooking the sea as I pedal this morning. Brilliant flowers!

I stop to help a biker who jammed his gears on an incline. He’s locked tight as his back derailleur has caught up in his spokes. At least we’re in the shade as we work to free the wheel. I manage to learn his name is Antonio. Although our goal is the same, we share little more than some grins of frustration at the situation and a little chain grease.

Spent the night at a campgrounds just south of Genova. I found the hills on my way – the camping is two kilometers above the primary road.

I stopped and asked a man if I was halfway there. The sweat was streaming down my face and stinging my eyes. He says “yes, yes” and then made a muscle with his arm and said, “You can do it. Strong like bull!”

Camping for one person is €6. It’s a sweet bargain for a safe place to stay. If you want to put up a tent it’s another €7. I asked the guy how that worked. “If you don’t have a tent and want to sleep under the stars, it’s still another €7,” he said.

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I met three motorcyclists from Poland; they camped next to me. American movie stars they noted were Al Pacino and John Travolta. Music? “We no like Justin Bieber.”

They heard of Oprah, but not Ellen. They did not know what a Kardashian was and when I tried to explain Bruce “Caityln” Jenner, they really did think ‘crazy American.’

That’s a lot of trust in clothespins!

This is my apartment for the night. You can hear the whine of motorbikes in the distance as well as the PA from the soccer field. Comfortable temps and a few friendly mosquitoes.

An Italian beer or two tonight. Left Zima relatively early, spun through some small towns where you could smell the aroma of morning cafe. Bike is holding up well and I’m getting more familiar with signs and map reading, except in Alessandria where I was turned about for two hours. Finally hopped the train for €10 (I was €7 and my bike was €3). I totally slept on the train. The ticket taker wanted to know why my ticket wasn’t stamped and he said he could arrest me. There was quick forgiveness and then another young lady woke me up at my stop. “Or you’re really going to get in hot water if you don’t have a ticket to go back.” The woman spoke great English. “I’m taking a night course,” she said.

We talked about the biking adventure. “Solo,” she asked. I’ll take any input on how to get around that question.

Made it to Genova and down the coast a bit to Nervi. 

Headed to work this morning. Leaving Castello.

I’ve got 30 miles on the day so far. Not sure if it’s the heat, the fact I’ve been lost in Alessandria the last two hours or the hose water I drank at the cemetery is making me a little woozy. Going with Plan B and catching the train 98 km to Genova.