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14 Good Eating We awoke to fog and a saturated tent. Even though it wasn't too chilly, the mist didn't look like safe riding weather, so we relaxed and waited to see what the day would bring. I washed my hands with a sprinkling of water from my bottle and was admonished that was the only water we had left for our pasta. I thought there was so little water we would only have been able to cook two noodles anyway--one each--even with Sharon's culinary wizardry. Around noon we were still trying to decide whether to stay or go. The sun peeped wearily from behind a cloud. Taking that as our signal we packed up and followed along the Arno River. It was flat, with the flow, easy cycling. We hit heavy urbanization and industrialization. As one town ended, another began. Tanning factories for Italian shoes, coats and purses made a stinking appearance. A large Co-op had a great selection of food. Was that because we were getting closer to France? The bread, packages of meat slices, and various packages of cheeses were self-serve- the first time I had seen that in Italy. I went wild and bought Swiss, brie and mozzarella cheeses plus a hearty helping of ricotta from the deli. Bruno would have been pleased. Somehow we managed to get everything into our panniers with a few items bundled on top. I needed expandable panniers for those successful shopping forays. I felt like a hunter coming back from the woods with the spoils. "Good eating tonight, dear," I said to Sharon.On the flat terrain, even with the wind blowing towards us and our extra food weight, it didn't make much difference to our progress. The only pain was the constant traffic and uninspiring scenery. The whole experience felt flat. Sharon noticed a road behind a locked chain paralleling a smaller river. I had ridden past and was a hundred meters up the road when I heard her call out. With great difficulty, due to the huge traffic volume, I finally managed to get turned around. I rode a short distance back and then had to wait again to cross the road to get over to Sharon. I should have just stayed on the original side and pushed my bike along the shoulder. It certainly would have been quicker. The chain stretched the full length across the one lane dirt road. A bush covered hillside formed one terminus; the other end attached to a concrete pillar. To the right of the pillar was a fifty foot drop off to the placid river. I wondered why there were plastic bags in the tree tops, before figuring out that was the height of the water during the previous autumn's floods. I stood on the cement outcropping around the base of the pillar and gently nosed the front of my bike past. Then, still standing on the base, I swung the rear of my bike across empty space. I hadn't anticipated how much heavier the rear of my bike was since I had loaded it with groceries. It almost got away from me. Feeling my hernia strain, I laughed in a high strangled voice. If I had lost my bike over the edge the day would have ended on a very flat note indeed. We found a ledge above the riverbank and had chicken in olive oil and white wine sauce with French provincial herbs along with fresh vegetables and pasta. Good eating all right! |
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