My little week-long adventure started out the day before Easter. I had two destinations that I wanted to at least see: Assisi on Easter and Lyon, France (where I had a friend). I set out Saturday night and hit a nearby town, Udine, for a wine spritz or two and then I pushed out Sunday morning to Assisi. I arrived around noon and saw the throngs of people attending various masses in the town. This town is very impressive to look at. It sits atop this high hill and is just amazing to look at. St. Francis of Assisi is the big attraction here as well as the neat churches and winding hilltop streets. I had no place to stay here---so I drove my Xterra down the road until I found a little campground. I parked my car, took my bike, and headed out into the town. I spent a day here just wandering around and taking photos. That night I slept in my truck rather than setting up a tent. I didn't really feel like doing it.
The next day I got up and drove to the famous Tuscan hill town, San Gimignano. As predicted in the travel books--it was cool. The only downside to this little town is that it is crawling with tourists. The setting is awesome...but the day-trippers from Florence, etc kind of ruin the scene. I spent only a couple/three hours here before I took a drive for 2 hours or so to Lucca.
Lucca is an amazing walled city in Tuscany. There were still plenty of tourists..but it wasn't too bad. I made the big time mistake of driving my car into the city walls. Somehow, I get into the "pedestrian only" section of the city--and there was no escape! I was cruising through this ancient town and literally parting the seas of people with my American (AFI license plated) vehicle with bike on the back, and couldn't do anything about it. It was almost impossible to get out of there. This shot my blood pressure up a bit and I was forced to take my bike out and ride around to chill out. After that, I found a hotel and called it good. I was tired and needed a shower.
The next day I decided to try to make the Italian Riviera and visit the famous "Cinque Terra" cities. They were amazing. First of all, I had to drive my truck down a ridiculous section of roads that would have made my mom absolutely go into a coma. I'm not kidding you, these were unbelievable. Small, narrow, not maintained and ridiculously close to the cliffs overlooking the sea. Now, Cinque Terra is amazing. The views are epic. Check it out on the net. It is a sweet destination. Five small villages on the sea that are connected by ancient footpaths. However, the recommendation is to visit them in the Spring or in the Fall. The Summer brings way too many tourists. I spent a night here hanging out with some American backpacking through Europe. Of all things, one of the guys I was chatting with was from Nashville, TN. He actually attended Father Ryan and had visited Dickson for a scholarship interview at the Renn. Center. People are always interested to learn that I actually "live" over here/have a house/and am able to just travel around, etc. I always get the standard "So what is it like to fly fighter jets?" and "Have you been to Iraq?" and "What do you think about the war?" and "How does the Air Force FEED you?/are the BARRACKS good????" I start getting sick of some of these ridiculous assumptions, but I guess that people just aren't informed.
The next day I started questioning whether or not the "no plan" plan was a good idea. It actually added a mild level of stress--because I am so used to having a plan in whatever I do. I could A)continue down the coast into Nice, Cannes, etc or B)go north from Genova and hit Torino and then go west into France. I literally didn't make up my mind until I hit the point of decision on the Autostrada.
I turned north toward Torino.
This was a long drive and I was starting to get sick of my Italian Language CD's. I chatted with my buddy, Alex on the cell phone (who actually lives in JAPAN). I told him that this was sort of depressing. He suggested I turn back to home and "minimize the losses." I knew that would be the weak way out so I pressed on. I passed through Torino and stopped in the ski town, Sestriere. The held the winter olympic skiing/boarding competitions here. I strolled around, but it was pretty much dead. I pressed on throught the Tunnel De Frejus (big ass French tunnel connecting France and Italy).
Throughout the trip I focused mainly on taking good photographs. I guess I have sort of gotten into photography a little bit. I've had no courses and had only read a couple of books on it in college. I don't know if mine are any good, but I like to capture what I see as the true Europe. I'm sick of the basic front-on scenic shots of churches, people and landscapes. I like the sunsets, black and whites and neat shots of people. I hate photos of me now for whatever reason.
I was tired now as I crossed into the French alps. I had no place to stay and I didn't really feel like camping out. I had all the gear, but a cold night on the mountain didn't feel like the big one for me that night. I found the cool little town, St. Jean De Marienne. I got a room at a cheap hotel. I can assure you that I was the only tourist in this neck of the woods. The lady running the hotel was so nice. On that note, the French people were the friendliest I have encountered in Europe. It may be an act, but they seem so genuinely nice and polite. As I checked out the next day she (the hotel owner) told me that the Tour De France had been through there the previous year and that U.S. Postal had stayed there (Lance Armstrong included). I headed into town with my bike, bought a trail map, and pressed out with a backpack and some cheese into the mountains. I biked for a few hours. The views were ridiculous. I had only been in France for ski season. The spring was a whole new ball game. Nobody around for miles---and nothing but green grass and high peaks. Even the cows with big bells around their necks were present to complete the scene. All I needed was some hot French girl in the mountain dress/outfit to come trouncing down the path to greet me. (that, unfortunately and realistically, did not happen).
Next the path on the way to Lyon took me to the city of Chambery. College town. Old. Beautiful. Standard European goodness. I hung out here and figured out how I would get to Lyon. I left my car there and took the train the next day.
Lyon is France's second largest city. It is big. However, it isn't clogged with tourists. I rolled into town and met up with my friend from a previous travel, Heidie. She was a great tour guide and really went out of her way to make the stay awesome. Lyon is primarily a business city. The thing that I liked most about it was the awesome network of parks. People were everywhere chilling out in the sun. One park, in particular, had a driving range and golf course. Heidie and I hit some buckets of balls and continued seeing the city.
Two nights in Lyon and I was on the train back to get my car. I got my car and drove and drove and drove. All the way to Venice and finally Aviano. I was tired. In fact, I'm still tired. I still haven't unpacked.
Excuse the grammatical errors and spelling--but I like typing in a free flowing style that isn't elaborate or a waste of time.
Hope I didn't bore you.
