ITALY – Solo Bikepacking the World #15

Bikepacking across Italy in winter. In the episode, I cross the country from the bustling riviera, to the foggy canals of Venice, along roaring highways, and quiet bike paths, beneath sunny skies and over snowy mountain passes. I fight winter winds, witness vibrant festivals, and ride through iconic seaside villages, serene forests, and historic cities. And on peaceful nights, I cycle beneath starlit skies. As I traverse through Italy by bike, I find that each day will come with its own surprise and adventure.

From May 2022 until June 2024, I went on a 41,500km solo bicycle journey around the world, that took me through 26 countries.This is the 15th episode overall, and the 5th from Europe.

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Route Map:
https://ridewithgps.com/routes/52838629

Gear List:

0:00 Intro
0:37 Cycle paths to Sanremo
1:52 Riviera dei Fiori
4:14 Borgio Verezzi night views
5:08 Furious february winds
7:00 Genoa
7:44 Feasting on focaccia
9:38 Passo del Bracco
10:31 Maremonti seaside cycle path
11:09 Cinque Terre
12:33 Night in Manarola
13:21 Festival season
15:23 Pisa
16:20 Lucca and countryside
18:10 Beautiful climb over the Apeninnes
19:15 Beautiful descent into Emilia Romagna
22:21 Frosty morning into Bologna
23:32 Pianura Padana
24:19 Po River night
24:57 Po River fog
26:04 Venetian lagoon
27:19 Venice morning
27:43 Carnevale di Venezia
29:09 Leaving Venice

Italy in winter. I crossed this country from the bustling Riviera to the foggy canals of Venitzia. Along roaring highways and quiet bike paths beneath sunny skies and over snowy mountain passes, I fought winter winds, witnessed vibrant festivals, and rode through iconic seaside villages, serene forests, and historic cities. And on peaceful nights, I cycled beneath starlet skies. As I traversed through Italy by bike, I found that each day would come with its own surprise and adventure. About 500 m into Italy, halfway through a 600 m long tunnel. Welcome to Italy. After a short while on the main coastal highway beyond the border, I found myself back on a fantastic bike route on the Penetente Legore cycle path. Following a former 19th century rail line, I glided along the coast and through a mileong tunnel with separated cycle and pedestrian paths and walls lined with stories of Italy’s rich cycling history. [Music] Emerging from the far side, I entered into San Ramo as the evening lights began to glow. By chance, I had arrived on the opening night of the Sano Music Festival, Italy’s most famous song contest, and the stage that launched many of the country’s greatest singers. Around the main venues, the city pulsed with glitz and glamour. But after a quick dinner, I slipped quickly away from the buzz, riding a few kilometers out of town to settle in at a quiet spot along the coast, watching the festival lights pulse across the water. [Music] [Music] With the sun shining brightly above, I carried on along the Riviera de Fiori, the Riviera of Flowers, the western most part of the Italian Riviera. The cycle path stretched only 24 km, but it was such a joy to ride with colorful towns spilling down to the sea and every turn and tunnel portal revealing sweeping views of the Mediterranean and the cold and windy February air. [Music] [Music] I’m on the new bike path heading towards Imperia. It’s really nice surface except today I’m being absolutely brutalized by ridiculous headwinds. So very slow travel. After fighting the crisp February winds, the bike path came to an end in the city of Imperia and was forced back into the Vio Aelia. Once a Roman road laid down in 241 BC, it is now a roaring modern artery of traffic stretching nearly 700 km from the French border to Rome. The beauty of the coastline remained, but the frequent narrowing shoulders often left little space to feel safe cycling here. [Music] [Music] [Music] That evening, high above the town of Bourjio Veretsi, I found a spectacular perch on the hillside to spend the night. The Mediterranean stretched endlessly below me, while the Lagorian coast glittered with lights beneath the stars and moon. [Music] As I continued east, hopping between small town bike paths and the relentless via Aurelia, I began to find my rhythm of survival, focusing purely on fighting the sharp February winds between frantic pulses of traffic [Music] around the coast of Noy. There [Music] heat. [Music] [Music] Doing battle with the strong winter winds here was a real challenge, but I soon found moments of stillness again away from the sharp cliffs of the caves. I also felt a real sense of whiplash transiting between the busy roads and the disconnected paths here. It may look like I spent most of the afternoon on bike path, but the truth is that the camera rarely comes out on dangerous roads. At least on paths, filming forces me to pause, to breathe, and to treasure the fleeting moments of calm and savor them a little while longer. [Music] [Music] [Music] As the sun set, I arrived in the outskirts of the city of Genoa. And on another chaotic mess of roads and disjointed paths, I navigated my way into the city center, where I was hosted by a friend for a brief but wonderful night in the city. Heat. Heat. Heat. [Music] Heat. [Music] Heading [Music] southeast along the coast, my first stop for the day was the small town of Reco. Here I of course sampled the famous Faukasha Kulagio and provisioned on even more varieties of delicious faukasha to carry me through the day. I made a short detour to the church of San Roco Damolei. Looking back over the coast I just ridden with the city of Genoa fading into the distance. Although I was back on the highway, the riding was a joy. Traffic was light and the roadraced curves around terrace hillsides opening up to sweeping views of idyllic bays and harbors. From a scenic overlook, the town of Santa Margarita Lor lay below me with the legendary village of Portoino just out of sight around the corner. [Music] By evening, I reached Cestri Levante. After a quick dinner, I pushed on another 10 km, climbing an easy 350 m into the hills on Quiet Road. The campgrounds I’d hoped for were all closed for the season, a recurring challenge in the winter, but I managed to find a secluded spot just off the road to pitch my tent for the night and was rewarded with a peaceful sleep and views of serene forested hills. The morning air was cold and crisp as I continued the climb up into the hills on deserted road that was a welcome contrast to the bustle of the coast. [Music] After crossing the Paso del Barco above 600 m, I began a beautiful descent back down on serene roads that opened up to stunning panoramas of the snowcapped Aanine Mountains. [Music] Back at the coast in the small village of Framura, I began the Marimonte cycle path. While only 5 1/2 km long, this path was a stunning converted rail line primarily in tunnels with large gallery openings framing secluded rocky coes below. [Music] From the town of Levanto, I climbed up once more on peaceful roads, entering the region of Tinqueter. [Music] [Applause] This UNESCO World Heritage site is not only breathtaking in beauty, but also a testament to human perseverance. For centuries, villagers have carved agricultural terraces into the steep hillsides and built five pastel colored towns standing mightily on rocks above the sea. Here, nature and culture are woven together into a living landscape. And at every curve of the road, I felt a deeper sense of awe and wonder. Oh, guacamole. That is gorgeous. [Applause] [Music] Oh, this is absolute heaven. I’m descending now down to Manorola and Shinquter. Unbelievably gorgeous. Manorola, perhaps the most iconic of the five villages, rose in a cascade of pastel houses clinging to a sheer cliff above the sea. At sunset, the whole village glowed in golden light. A living postcard suspended above the water. I watched the sunset alongside a 100 other tourists. But as soon as the light faded, they all slipped away by train. Suddenly, I was alone in the stillness of February, left with the rare magical gift of silence and solitude in such a magical place. [Music] After a steep climb out of the village in the morning, I found myself back high up on the hillsides, riding the peaceful road out of the Chinqiter region. [Music] With one last lingering glance back at the steep hills tumbling into the sea, I disappeared into a tunnel through the hills. Emerging on the other side, the world once again opened to sweeping views of mountains and valleys. And soon the city of Laspetsia sprawled out below me as I freewheelled downhill. [Music] [Music] [Music] southbound along the coast, a wide bike path carried me through endless towns and past beachside bars and restaurants. The crowds grew and I soon learned it was festival season. The carnival of Vio was in full swing with massive parade floats rolling down the streets visible even from a distance. But unfortunately, it was a ticketed event and the Politia would not let me even linger at the gate for a better look. So I pedled on to the quiet of the Bokea Derkio Nature Reserve. Here near the mouth of the Cio River, I watched the sun sink into the distant horizon while the sea and sky began to glow with the vibrant light of dusk. A short ride into the night brought me to the city of Pisa. It was serenely quiet late at night and I enjoyed the peaceful atmosphere in the Patza del Duomo beneath these world famous landmarks. After spending the night in a local hostel, I got a quick daytime look at the leading tower of Pisa. Now much busier with crowds trying desperately to hold it up for their photos, but still nothing like the chaotic experiences I’ve heard of in the high season. Navigating some narrow roads and wild Italian drivers out of the city, I soon enough found myself back on bike path, turning back to the northeast up the Cio River. [Music] [Music] In Luca, I discovered the city’s magnificent Renaissance walls built in the 16th and 17th centuries to defend the city. These walls remain to this day and form a complete ring of wide treelined paths. It was an incredible experience to cycle on top of them. A unique perspective looking out over the roofs of the town and the surrounding Tuscan countryside. Now, this is more the Italy that I like. I’m inland. It’s much more chiller. [Music] [Music] along forested paths, ancient cobbled roads, and modern highways. continued on eastwards. [Music] I rode on through the countryside as dusk fell and then finally settled in for the night at the base of the Apanese at a peaceful spot above Montale overlooking the fields of Tuskanyany below. Here I joined up with the Euro7 route, beginning a serene thousand meter climb up into the hills, accompanied by nothing but the sounds of my bike, breathing, and bird song. It was so nice to be back in the forest for some peace on this incredible climb. [Music] At the top of the pass, I crossed a short section of snow and ice. Luckily fully iced over for just a brief section at the summit, but otherwise peaceful and passable. Just enough to remind me that winter still had its grasp on the hills. Through forests of beach, chestnut, and oak, I ascended through the aquarine noagalo nature reserve. The road wound blissfully downhill, passing through small settlements and through a land so wild it has even seen a successful reintroduction of wolves to the ecosystem. The ride was beyond magical as the roads opened up to views of the serene Suana Lake and the expanses of the region of Amelia, Romania. [Music] Absolutely loving this descent. Got a nice winding quiet road, some beautiful corners with some nice bank turns and absolutely incredible vistas over the countryside. And it’s nice temperature right now. Probably a few degrees above zero. Oh, just freewheeling and loving it makes that big climb this morning all worth it. Although that was never in doubt, of course. All right, I’m going to put some miles in. Correction, I’m going to put some kilometers in. Is the current state of my shoes? Yeah, it’s about time. I was trying to wait till 20,000 km. I think that’s about 1,000 clicks from now. We’ll be halfway around the world. Seems like a good time to buy some new shoes. This is life right now. It’s pretty nice. Wow. [Music] Oh, this is glorious. Look at this view. [Music] It was truly such a perfect day. These silent roads were deeply restorative. A happiness born of solitude, away from the bustle and chaos of the coast. I spent the night at a peaceful wild camp near the Raino River. And on a cold morning, waking to frost sparkling on the grass, I headed out on bike paths, following the course of the river and leaving the Apanines behind. Heat. Heat. [Music] [Music] Bolognia was once a city of medieval skyscrapers. In the 12th and 13th centuries, nearly 200 towers, summarizing close to 100 m, rose above the city. They were symbols of wealth and status and served as defensive lookouts. Today only a handful remain with the most prominent being the two towers of Asanelli and Geris. I stopped in the city only long enough to gaze up in awe at the towers before setting off once more north alongside the Navil Canal, an offshoot of the Reo River. Along its banks, I found peaceful paths and even spotted a number of nutria. Aquatic rodents once brought here for fur farming are now considered an invasive species. [Music] I was now crossing the Ponura Padana, the Great Po Valley of Northern Italy. The landscape stretched endlessly across flat fields and farms. This is the agricultural and industrial heart of Italy, producing most of the country’s grains and dairy, as well as being full of factories, including several world famous automobile manufacturers. After passing through the city of Ferrara at night, I reached the banks of the Po River, the longest river in Italy and the backbone of the Panora Padana. [Music] Along the southern bank of the river, I followed a wide cycle path on the top of a dyke tracing the river’s course. In this peaceful setting, I took the chance to ride another 40 km into the night, enjoying the serenity under a sky filled with stars. I camped just before the Pogo River split into its delta and awoke to a morning shrouded in thick fog. In winter, this weather is common as cold, humid air settles low across the valley. My choice to ride late into the night was quite a wise decision, it seemed, as I experienced far better views under the stars. [Music] Good morning. It’s a beautiful morning ride along the Po River into the Po Delta. Here we can see the river over there. Gorgeous sun uh sparkling waters today. [Music] [Applause] Leaving the bike path, I crossed the Po River on a busy highway, but soon enough found myself back at the foggy coast, arriving in the town of Chiogia to catch a ferry into the Venetian lagoon. [Music] The first fairy hop was a short one, carrying me to the island of Palestrina. [Music] I followed quiet bike paths along the lagoon for the length of the island before boarding a second ferry to the island of Leo. Together, these two islands form the natural barrier between the Venetian lagoon and the Adriatic Sea. Finally, I caught my third ferry of the day, leaving Leo and arriving in a very foggy Venice. Because the islands are more than 90% only pedestrian or boat access, I arrived by ferry to the Gateway Islands, where not only the train stations, bus terminals, and carports are situated, but also an underground bike parade with 100 lockers available to use. At €10 for a 24-hour period, I considered this an incredible deal, offering a safe place to leave not just my bike, but the majority of my gear. Taking only one pany with the essentials, I boarded the Vaporetto, the local public water bus to transit to and check into a hostel for the night, I awoke early in the morning to explore the city. I was fortunate enough to have arrived during the famous annual Carnival Deania, a celebration where the city fills with visitors and dedicated carnival goers celebrate tradition and show off an intricately woven costumes and ornate masks. It was an incredible marvel to witness. A living theater set against the foggy backdrop of the canals and historic city. [Music] [Music] The canals and sightes of Venitzia were absolutely magical and I fell easily in love with the city. The diffused sunlight through the winter fog softened the light adding another element of dreamlike beauty to the city. Heat. [Music] Heat. [Music] [Music] I would have loved to stay in Venice longer, but with the weekend carnival events approaching, even a bed in a 20 person dorm room was becoming out of budget for the next few days. And so I returned to the bike parade, repacked my gear, and set off back on a ferry across the Venetian lagoon into the foggy night to venture further into northeast Italy and onwards towards Slovenia.