I saw Barbara most of the way to the station, at 7 am then returned to the apartment. I am planning to take four days to get to Livorno, then take a ferry to Bastia on the island of Corsica, cross Corsica on the bike to Ajaccio (napoleon’s birthplace) and get the ferry from there to Toulon and thence back to paris and London.
But the planned trip involved some long days. Today I was sure that I could get going by 8:30. But faffing about and making more coffee and packing, and unpacking because I thought I had lost the key to the bike-lock (disastrous since the bike was locked-up), meant it was nearly 9 by the time I left. I had 124 km to cover and 880m of vertical climb. A lot for me. The host at the B&B for tonight had insisted that I give an “Exact” time of arrival, and if I couldn’t then I should cancel the booking. The latest time allowed was 8 pm, so I gave that, which made her happy it seemed, if I got there early I could go to the local bar, I thought.
But what if I was late? I would have to push-on all day. Getting out of Turin was slow going, the bike lanes are quite good, but there are traffic lights, road works, wong turns. Then the satellite villages that connect into suburbs. so by 11 am I wasn’t much more than 15 km along my route. Once in the countryside I was able to speed up, I had to keep pushing though. The route had no big hills but lots of small ones, it was hot, tiring.
The route is mostly back-roads but there are some long stretches of busy roads with articulated lorries roaring past just inches from my handlebars.
I had brought some food along, salami, cheese and prosciutto saved from last night’s dinner, but I wanted to keep them for the evening, since I wasn’t sure of open restaurants at Capriata D’Orba, my village destination . I had “emergency rations” of prunes and walnuts bought yesterday at a supermarket, they were going unhealthily fast. I was relying on getting some food at Asti, about half-way on the journey.
Thing is, as I approached Asti I saw a shortcut on the map and followed it, it worked, bringing me out on my route having saved a couple of kilometers, but I had bypassed the centre of Asti.
I had done 64km with about the same to go, I was really hungry and needed to eat if I was going to make the full journey. On the outskirts of Asti a workmans cafe appeared, I propped the bike against a tree outside and went in.
A cheerful fat shouty lady was in charge, she pointed me to a table, “Water or wine” she shouted, “Water” I said quietly. The set menu had two pasta choices, then meat, then coffee, water or wine, 12 Euros.
The names of two pastas were scrawled on the board, I could hardly read the flowing script.
“Ragu or pasta with beans?” she shouted in Italian, I couldn’t understand so she shouted “Beans, macaroni with beans?” I was feeling a little self-concious now, but the rest of the customers paid no heed, they had their own concerns and a dumb foreigner was of little interest it seemed, they were used to the volume level I imagine. “Yes” I said, “Pasta with beans?” she shouted extra loud to make sure. “Yes, buono, grazie.” I increasd my volume a bit. The macaroni and beans were just the job, went down a treat, while eating them I was able to de-cipher some of the menu, it had “Vitello” which I knew to be veal, so that seemed safe enough for next course.
After removing the empty pasta plate – “What meat do you want?” she bellowed.
“Vitello” I said confidently, quite loud myself now,
“Vitello is finished.” Several other things were finished.
“Cotechino, we have cotechino, would you like that?” I looked dubious but said yes, determined to eat anything that appeared, I didn’t think that it was tripe. “It’s Salumi, sliced” she made slicing gestures.
“Bueno! Cotechino!” I declared, not having a clue.
Cotechino is described in Wikipedia as an Italian pork sausage the main constituents of which are pork rind and fat, mixed with salt and spices, in industrial production nitrates are added. It is cooked very slowly, being boiled in water for several hours.
I think this was industrial production. I got four thick slices along with a dollop of mashed potato. It was very porky, in truth, and very salty/nitratey. But I was still hungry enough to eat it all, along with the remains of my portion of bread. Coffee to finish and I’m ready for anything!
So on I go into the evening, a long hot tiring day, but pleasant.
I get to the B&B at 7:30, just as the concierge is arriving to see some other tenants. Perfect timing.