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15 Pisa There was no denying my uncanny ability to judge flat terrain--I checked my altimeter and the total altitude climbed was zero. Retracing our footsteps in the morning, I decided to lift the chain and push my bike underneath rather than swing it over the precipice again. It would have been my weak arm. The Arno River continued flat towards Pisa. We followed the yellow "piccolo strata" on the north side of the river rather than the supposedly more major one on the south. The smaller roads usually had less traffic, but we had been in constant traffic from the moment we left Florence. The leaning tower was easy to find. But it was leaning at such a precarious angle it had been closed to visitors. Workers shored up the fabulous structure, pouring tons of lead around the base, before Galileo's ultimate experiment in gravity could come to a finite conclusion. I thought it was built leaning on purpose, but no--the ground just settled unexpectedly and created an instant tourist attraction. I thought it was marvellous. Pisa was also well-known for having founded one of Europe's earliest universities. We ate lunch on the medical campus grounds away from the hoards of tourists. It had a quiet and peacefulness about it as only university campuses possessed--a place of unnatural beauty and serenity in our harried world. We had a wonderful view of the leaning tower through a madroña tree filled with purplish-pink tulip shaped blossoms. Leaving Pisa we headed north toward Lago di Massaeiuccoli and managed to get off the beaten track--well off. Our road became a dirt path through a farmer's field. "Is this the principle strata?" Sharon jokingly asked. That was what we always asked each other when we didn't know which way to turn and all choices looked equally hopeless. After making a semi-loop, we arrived at the lake. I had no idea how. Traffic was still heavy when we rejoined main Highway 439. Maybe that farmer's field wasn't so bad after all. Fabulous Italian marble with every colour and pattern appeared at industrial complex yards. One side of the road had massive blocks; on the other were thin slabs of finished product. The highly polished marble was exquisite. Towns were constant. One sign signalled the end of a town and the next town sign was immediately after. We were getting close to the large center of Massa and it was growing late. At Capanne we turned off the main coastal route and headed for the mountains looking for a place to camp. We climbed a thousand feet in three kilometers and were soon dripping wet from exertion. The road was single lane with nothing but mountain on one side and a drop-off on the other. We finally spied a tiny spot behind a bush. Struggling, we helped each other push the bikes up the steep thorny path. After all that, we could still hear the coastal traffic. Too tired to cook in the dark, we instead ate ham and cheese sandwiches, apples, cookies, yogurt and chocolate. |
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