We were given the works for breakfast and set off in good spirits – what could possibly go wrong.
Cycling through the beautiful Chianti hills, the rain was shocking and once again we were cold and miserable. Poor Giles had another puncture and we admired his inner tube replacement skills from a distance huddled up in the corner cuddling into each other for warmth. James commented “what I would give for hot food”.
Having plotted a route first thing in the morning, we had arranged to meet with Colin just beyond Lucca, and as if by magic he was there as expected and, as if by telepathy, he had turned up with hot pork ribs and two whole cooked hot chickens, potato croquets and a big bag of M&Ms – heaven!!!
We eventually rolled into the Port of La Spezia (sounds nicer than the container port that it is) after a number of wrong turns and a few testy moments between us on the bike – patience had been running thin as we slogged on wet, late, tired and hungry.
The hotel did all we needed – supplied cold beer, gave us a good restaurant recommendation (James turned up in camouflage)and provided a warm dry bed, suitably sound-proofed from Colin’s snoring for all but Simon.
The mileage for tomorrow was going to be less, but there were going to be a few bumps in the road we were all led to believe by our route master – Keith.