The yellow leaves everywhere send the clear signal that it is autumn in Italy. Not only that, but the highs are hitting maybe 55 degrees with the lows in the low 40s. Despite the favorable weather forecast, our Saturday bike trip to Imola seems destined to be cold and wet.
There are five bikes to choose from. The newest, a Gamma, looks like a standard bike with three gears. With it's fairly new blue paint, the brand name in shiney silver and the considerably reduced amount of rust compared to the rest, this is obviously the newest and best bike to have. Sally has comendeered said bike since it has the best seat, which will suit her bum quite well, she says. Leaving the two bikes with the worst seats to the youngings to deal with - they are only 22 and skinny as rails - they'll fare just fine. This leaves me with a light blue or light green - I can't tell - bike that looks like it was made in the 70s. By the horizontal bar, I can tell it's a men's bike, but the height fits me just fine. If only I had a basket, I could feel like I was completely basking "under the Tuscan sun". With our misfit collection of bikes and just as much a misfit collection of women, we set off for Imola.
It is chilly. The one store we pass signals to us that is 10 C or ... f. I have my Eagles knit cap on, my rain jacket and two different colored socks used as gloves. All bundled up, we trek the easy 40 minute bike ride into Imola, stopping to take picturesque photos and admire where we are.
Imola is a fairly small town and not very touristy, thankfully. We arrive on a Saturday were the market is going on, one very similar to Rogliano. I end up making my first clothes purchase in Italy and then Sally and I decide it's wine o'clock. We have all locked up our bikes, but the youngsters are no where to be found. They must have gotten distracted at one of the market sellers, so we set off in search of wine.
We settle into a cafe and have a few glasses with complementary crostinis. We chat about what life is like for each of us back home, what we miss, what we hope to do in the future, and what we've experienced so far on our trips. Sally hopes to someday buy a large plot of land in New Zealand and renovate it to become a home stay. She has the land all picked out, she's just trying to convince her husband to take the plunge and move from Perth back to her native country. After about an hour or so of people watching and talking, we roam around Imola for awhile before deciding to head back towards the farm. Its about 2:30 and with the time it takes to bike back and then up the hill to Dozza, we should arrive right around the time that shops start to reopen. Plus, there's the castle to see if we need to waste time.
The bike ride back just the two of us is easier and much warmer. The sun has decided to come out and we can actually peel off some of our many layers. Sally insists that I go first since I'm the one in better shape - this gives me the entire road (when a car isn't coming) to zig zag along, running my hands through the high grass that coats the sides of the road. There are vineyards on each side of us in patches and I can't help but take a cliché, and totally necessary, shot of the scenery (see Facebook). Then we get to the road leading up to Dozza. Now Dozza has beautiful views of much of the countryside because it is up on a hill. One has to climb said hill to get the views though and on a bike with no gears and limited functionality in general, walking the bikes up becomes the obvious option. This hike makes the stairs in Amalfi seem Ike a cake walk. After about 25 minutes of huffing and puffing, we reach the edge of town and can relax somewhat before continuing on into the center of town. It's almost 4 at the is point and while shops may be opening in the next 30 minutes or so, we decide to check out the castle to get some culture.
The Dozza castle is amazing. Well preserved and off the beaten track, Sally and I have the whole thing to ourselves for a good 30 minutes before we see anyone else. Underneath the castle is one of Italy's most famous enotecas (wine shop). There are special tastings that go on throughout the year starting at about 45 euro a person. These are obviously for the reserved wines because everything on the shelves is under ten euro. This is the most frustrating thing for me because I have access to all of this wonderful, local and cheap wine and I can't take it with me! I settle on four bottles and call it a day.
It's almost five and wine o'clock has come around again. We settle into one of the trattorias and share a bottle while we wait out the rainy afternoon that seems to descended upon us. With no sign of the precipitation letting up, we decided to hunker down for dinner there as well. We have the most amazing salame plate and then two specials of the house, both made with tagollini pasta. After tasting both dishes, we decide Sally has definitely won - her truffle sauce is so delicate and tasteful that my traditional Ragu can't compete. I hate it when the other person has the better dish! We wrap up dinner with some limencello (shocker) and to our delight, the rain has subsided. Our bikes had been under cover the whole time, so we hop aboard our mechanical steeds and set off back down the hill. At this point, it is about 8:30 pm and night has fallen with no moonlight or other means of light. This makes us completely reliant on my little bike light. Down the hill we go from Dozza but we have to stop repeatedly because the grade is too steep and the gravel too slick to ride down. We get the to the last section of the hill and coast down, my little bike light giving us a short warning as to the ground ahead. I have to laugh out loud at how comical the situation is, two virtual strangers on really old bikes with bad brakes have a bottle or two of wine together and then go down a steep hill with very little light on a slick gravel road - brilliant! Somehow we make it down the hill in one piece and a short two minutes on the road has us back in the driveway of farm. The dogs greet us at the gate and we head inside to warm up by the stove that has finally been lit in the kitchen and to swap stories of the day with the rest of the house.
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