September 5, 2015
Day 46: Montova to Sabbioneta
I said to Dodie "Maybe I will not write about breakfast, for once in this blog", but she convinced me to go for it, because this breakfast actually was unique. It was unique because it was a close Italian approximation to a German breakfast. There were pots of jam, baskets of buns, cheese, meat, boiled eggs, coffee in a large coffee pot, fruits, yogurt, even a giant (really giant) vat of Nutella. The illusion broke down though, because the buns were just one type of small white ones, the cheese was one type of Swiss, and the meat was one type of salami. On the plus side, there was a definitely non-German selection of really quite good sweet cakes and rolls. The reason for all this was not clear, but we did notice that 100 percent of our fellow breakfasters were speaking German. Maybe this hotel has a contract with a German tour company, and we were beneficiaries of whatever deal they worked out.
The staff too had a sort of Germanic flair, though we did decide they were Italian. For example, when I finished the first round of stuff - three rounds are needed for cycling - and put my knife and fork down on my plate, all three items were whisked away. Placidly, I got up and got and filled another plate, but as to the knife and fork, I swiped them from the place setting next to me. It took about one minute, then a staff member pointed accusingly to the missing utensils and sung out "Knife!" and "Fork!". Instantly new ones appeared and were precision placed where they should have been. Then I was directed to the repository of spare ones, in case I intended to repeat my crime.
Dodie tried to explain that we did not know the routine, and besides our old knife and fork had been spirited away. With a withering stare the staffer showed she was having none of it.
Under these conditions it was amazing that Dodie managed to sequester a lot of lunch items in her little black bag. One main trick was that she had brought all her other luggage to the table, so who would know why she might be digging about in it!
While paying the bill at the front desk, I was doing my usual bragging about where we were heading to, this time mentioning Milano, but modestly allowing it might not be today. (Milan is still more than 200 km away). The man at the desk was suitably impressed, and mentioned that of course we would be passing by Sabbioneta. "Sabby - who?" said I, the experienced world traveller. With this the man disappeared in the back and reappeared with a map, showing the cycle route Montova to Sabbioneta. Clearly, this was the A-1 thing to cycle in this area. We later learned (from a pamphlet also given to me by the man) that both Montova and Sabbioneta had attained World Heritage status in 2008.
Out on the street, we looked at the new map, and were very tempted to follow the bold red line to Sabbioneta that it showed. After all, Sabbioneta was on our own route. We decided to play it safe, though, and stick with the Bikeline way. We had the GPX for that, and no way to know if the bold tourist map would also boldly take us on to unsafe or unmarked roads.
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So we retraced our route through Virgilio, which route we knew worked, and returned by way of Cataldo, to the Po. From there we took up again the slow plod on the dike, into the wind, and so forth. The slow plod had some minor excitements. for example, we came upon a pomegranate tree that was not protected in someone's yard. I snared one quite red fruit, but we have yet to try it out. We have a suspicion that the pomegranates are not quite ripe here yet. Next we found some ducks. Normally that is no big deal. But here there is so little apparent wildlife that a goat or a duck is a big event. Besides, these were of a colour we have not seen before!
Finally we arrived at the spot where our route, which follows the Po, would have to cross an entering tributary, the Oglio. This also happened to be the point at which the touring itinerary from the hotel map parts company with the Bikeline Po route, and heads out along the Oglio. As fate had it, the bridge that crosses the Oglio is a pontoon one, and the water level was too low for this to be functional. So hey, we thought, we get to follow the big red (on the map anyway) new route to Sabbioneta!
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The signs at this point said stuff like "Canneto sullOglio Marcaria" and "Percorso Oglio Sud". Sure, whatever, let's go for it!So on we went. The only change seemed to be that earlier we had complained the towns were boring and had no services. In seeming response, now we had no towns. In fact we were in a large nature reserve, the "Parco Regionale Oglio Sud". After a while I said "Say, have we passed or seen any of the towns on this map - like Torre dOglio, or maybe Sabbioni?". So we checked the GPS, and really could not conclude anything from it. Without a track to work with, we could not see if we were on or off track, and the thing really is finicky about giving out town names. We had been given no choices in terms of turns, so we just continued on. The track was paved but rough, and of course the ever present head wind and sun.
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After a long time, we spied a church steeple, and figured we would soon know what town we were near. But the church and town were on the other side of the Oglio, oh well. Actually, we eventually came to a bridge, which was part of a dangerous road. For a road to be dangerous in Italy they do not need multiple lanes, congested conditions, or high speed limits. Rather all it takes is two or more Italian drivers, so atrocious are their driving habits. Actually, even one driver can do a fair job of it, but he would have to keep circling around to have some extra shots at you.
The town turned out to be Gazzuola. Whaaa! We thought it suspicious that we had been heading back toward the Alps! We were way too far North. So we headed for the church in Gazzuola, for some shade, sanctuary, and reflection. Even in a little town like this, the church was really quite amazing. We liked the shade best, though, and fired up any and all electronic devices to scope out a next move.
The thing was, the road we needed would head to Commessaggio, and that was the specific "dangerous" one we had crossed the river on. There was no way we would go on it. But the GPS revealed a road not on the tourist map - a little "white" one, to Bocca Chiavica. That would be our ticket out. From there we could catch a cycle way to Commessaggio.De facto, we were just heading back along the Oglio, but on the other side. The advantage though was that what had been our headwind was now a tailwind. We were on a roll now, and probably could still reach Parma, our real goal for the day.
When we had set out in the morning, Dodie had declared that she smelled rain, and she wanted us to pull our rain gear and be ready. I agreed to strap the stuff on the back of the bikes, but I insisted it was wasted effort since the Weather Network gave a zero percent chance of rain.
But later in the afternoon, as we approached Commessaggio, there was the rumble of thunder, and soon we could see flashes of lightening. We put on the gear and pedalled on apprehensively. Dodie hates, hates thunder storms. It had not quite started to rain yet when in Commessaggio is noticed a shelter covering three picnic tables. In we went, figuring it would take an hour before we could carry on. The rain soon came, very heavy, as with thunder storms, and lightening flashed around. Under our shelter we were glad we had found it, but had to move as deep as possible inside.
It took an hour and a half before we could carry on, and even at that it was still raining moderately. Soon, though, the sun came out and we had to take everything off and scramble for the sun glasses.
Bt now we were less than 10 km from Sabbioneta. We had realized in the shelter that that was going to be as far as we would get, and we booked a room in the only Albergo in the town. The day was not quite done with us, as those last kms included a dirt road that after the rain had the consistency of glue. I claimed that since our kms were a little short, this extra glue factor would help add a little welcome exercise to the day. Dodie did not agree! In fact by the time we booked in to Albergo Giulia Gonzaga and walked up the several flights of marble steps in the 16th century building, she was glad to collapse for a well earned nap!
Tomorrow we will see what all the fuss is about Sabbioneta (why it got the UNESCO designation) and then head in for a look at Parma!
Today's ride: 54 km (34 miles)
Total: 2,218 km (1,377 miles)
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