Before heading for Manciano to meet Cecilia, I joined Gianluca for one last bike ride. He’d promised to show me the beaches and forests of Feniglia, something I couldn’t possibly say no to. As it turned out, that day his archaeologist girlfriend was also working in the not-too-far-off Roman settlement of Cosa, and we ended up stopping by there too for a guided tour.
Thanking Gianluca for his incredible hospitality, we parted ways as I set off to my next destination. Orbetello had already been an unexpected gem of a city, and Manciano was no less so.
Once we’d met up, Cecilia took over as the evening’s guide, showing me round Manciano’s old town and later taking a drive to the natural hot springs of Saturnia and the picture-perfect Pitigliano.
It was only to be a quick catch-up session as I was heading onwards the following day, yet it was of course great to meet up with Cecilia in her home town nonetheless!
It was time to hit the road again. Now that I was slightly farther inland and higher up in the hills, I’d parted ways with most drivers and had the roads almost entirely to myself. The traffic I ran into all day consisted mostly of flocks of sheep, tractors and Italian-style three-wheelers.
My next stop was to be Lido di Tarquinia, where I’d be staying put for a few days to rest, catch up on blog posts, get the trip some much-needed publicity, and plan the final leg of the trip right down to Naples, Calabria and finally Sicily. It was, truth be told, a bit of a shock to realise that I had at least forty more days of cycling to go at the current pace. Hm, maybe my initial estimate of 45 days for the entire trip was a bit optimistic. Just a bit.
I spent my days in Lido di Tarquinia camping nonetheless, only this time nestled between camper vans in a camping village, where I had access to WiFi and power, and did not need to pack up the tent every morning. This was luxury, and it came as quite a welcome relief.
After a few days on the campsite, I still had a long way to go in terms of blog writing and route planning and had figured out that working from my tent wasn’t going to be quite as productive as I’d hoped. I ended up moving to Fiumicino just outside Rome, where I’d been invited to stay with my cousin and her family for as long as necessary.
In another one of my gross underestimations, I arrived in Fiumicino with a three-day stop in mind. A week later, I was still there…and even farther from heading off than I’d been when I first arrived. I now had a dysfunctional bike, corrupted phone memory card, GPS unit unable to lock on to any satellite signal, a sore throat and a fever.
They were a funny few days, those in Fiumicino. All that hadn’t happened since I set out for the trip seemed to happen at once – the good and the bad. On the positive side, I met up with some family for the first time in a while. It was great to see them again, especially when home was feeling so far out of reach. The emails I’d sent out to the press a few days earlier had meanwhile paid off, and Homebound went from having no media coverage whatsoever to being featured in two of the top Maltese newspapers and an online news portal, just days apart. Donations, as a result, started to flow in on the so-far quiet SMS lines, and it was fascinating being able to watch it all in real-time.
On the less positive side, I caught a bad cold which stopped me from getting much done for a while. My gear’s health also seemed to be taking a turn for the worse. My bike was now making all sorts of sounds, I got my first flat tyre, my phone’s SD card got corrupted beyond recovery, and my trusty handheld GPS receiver which had never let me down in six whole years suddenly died on me. If all of this had to happen at some point, I guess it couldn’t possibly have happened in a better place. But seriously, everything at once? What’s up with that?
Bit by bit, I started to get things done. I made it to the nearest Decathlon to pick up a new GPS unit and a few spare tubes (believe it or not, I got another flat tyre as I was cycling back to my cousin’s place, and had forgotten to take my pump with me. Another half-day wasted walking back…)
I meanwhile picked up a new memory card for my phone and tracked down my bike problems to a worn out bottom bracket, and was one step closer to hitting the road again.
A total of eleven days after arriving in Fiumicino, I was finally all packed and on my bike heading into the centre of Rome. It felt great to be moving again – for the first ten minutes. Then I hit the crazy Rome traffic and crazier Roman drivers, and found myself thinking that may very possibly have been my first and last day back on two wheels.
Having eventually made it to the centre alive, I had a few people I wanted to meet. The first was Daniele, a Rome native whom I’d met a few years back while travelling through Estonia. We had always planned to meet up again when I was next in Rome…and finally here I was. He’d kindly offered me and my two wheels a place to stay. I was already staying with my cousin in Fiumicino, but after my crazy bicycle ride into Rome and a late night, the last thing I had in mind was cycling back. So I left the bike at his place, returning by train a few days later to pick it up.
Meanwhile, I’d heard from Elena and Roy whom I’d met at the top of the St. Bernard Pass. Guess where they’d arrived; a few hours outside Rome, and on foot no less! They put my pace to shame.
Having been on the Via Francigena, their final destination was the Vatican and they’d be arriving there that evening. Time to celebrate with some(what too much) wine!
We parted ways the following day as I hit the road again. I’d been based in and around Rome for sixteen days straight now, so it was about time to get going. Well-rested, recovered and with a substantial amount of donations now in, I set off at a renewed pace.
