Day 9... All Roads lead to Rome

 I woke up feeling a little sad... today I would be leaving the peace and quiet of the mountains and returning to the noise and chaos of the big city. A bonus of Covid is that it is certainly quieter than it would have been at this time of year in Rome but still the fresh air and tranquility of the mountains would be well behind me.

I did grin though when I realised that it was pretty much all downhill to Sulmona and there was nothing the cycling Gods could do in payback... at least for now.... they do have long memories I have discovered.

Packing up my tent and sleeping kit onto the bike was easy, the manoeuvres perfected... each piece. of kit, its own little place. The bike, holding firm against all the weight looked good loaded up.

A gentleman came over and asked to have a look at the bike, normally something I welcome... but he seemed preocupied with the amount of oil on my chain... very little as I had 12 miles of downhill to go and then it was going back in its box ready for home. He offered me some.... no... Im fine... 

but I insist... he said (in Italian)

err I have some in my bag and I'm fine... 

Gees.. 

Anyway that little thing aside I packed up, tried to let my tent dry a little in the early morning sunshine, but then got a bit impatient to be on the move. My train was at 1542 but who knows what disasters and difficulties could befall on the way to the station, therefore getting there early was a must. 

I needn't have worried as it turns out but you never know.... 

and so the downhill... 

Beautiful... 

Fast

Swoopy... 

the scenery flew by in a way in most certainly did not on the way up... I had earned this downhill. Sunday morning had brought all the bikers out and I waved to them grinning as they struggled up. They would have done the same encouragement to me! 

On the way down, I saw some cyclists and a car with a camera in the back of it... with the giro d'itlia coming up, I wondered if they were filming one of the hill climbs as they sometimes to in preparation. 

The downhill took no time at all and with a few more pedal strokes I was at the station.  Even though it was Sunday there was a snack bar open  which was useful, as I now had over 4 hours to wait for my train.... hey ho

The tickets were ridiculously cheap... a 2.5 hour journey £11... plus a few quid for my bike... bargain! 

The time passed slowly as I roasted slowly on the platform.... but eventually the train came. As it was a train back to Rome, there were a few people on it already including a fair few cyclists... 

with another 4 of us on the platform, I was a little worried that they wouldnt let all of us on, but we squished all the bikes in and no one blinked an eyelid at how many there were in total.. 

most of them were road bikers, sleek lycra clad with bikes to match... I felt a little clumpy in comparison, but then I remembered that I had probably climbed the same passes as them only with a ton more kit, which made me feel better! 😁

The train took a high path in the mountains and sometimes the view across the valley was breathtaking... sometimes I was left wondering what the train was actually running on, as we seemed to be teetering on the precipice.  We didn't fall fortunately and soon enough we were back in Rome and the hustle and bustle of a main station. 

A short bike ride to the Colosseum and my hotel proced to be a little more difficult than I anticipated... my sence of direction in the mountains is second to none, but put me in a city and I will be lost in seconds.... 

Eventually I crawled. into the hotel... catried my bike up 5 flights of steps, which killed me off and gratefully collapsed into my nice clean room! 

Next up... ancient history!