Radiohead Epiphone Guitar

Riposo

I wake up. It's very early - but from outside swells already for some time smog teergetränkter together with an endless staccato croaking car and scooter horns through the closed windows in my studio.

Rome has awakened long ago.
And wakes me.

The breakfast is from barren - in the morning I usually tolerate only a coffee. And that I cook myself a typical Italian Bialetti machine. Is it so delicious that I decide I like in Germany even a need to.

a shower and a couple of minutes later I Tummler Myriarden me with other tourists on historic paving stones to the places you must see. St. Peter's Basilica - it is so close to me - my first goal should be. It's not even 10 and I'm sweating like a pig. The others. Pleasant.

I look imported, the sun blinds me, and I think of the words of the receding:

I took a wonderful desire, the head of the Church should open his golden mouth and that of the ineffable salvation of the blessed souls delight speaking, put us in delight.

So I stand with five thousand other tourists felt at the bottom of its window and stretch out my sore throat - "we" are now being expected to not over till the pope - but showed he still has not. Well, no wonder: In the heat I would also prefer my summer palace.

I save the eight hundred meters long Snake, which moves lazily in the St. Peter: Sure, this building, about which I have read so much, the Sistine Chapel and all the other architectural and artistic treasures, I would have liked. But not Sun Not today.

I fight on through the hot city.

push back a group of gum chewing, chattering in English American, I am along a high wall to - I do not know where. Overtaking pointless, they occupy the whole width of the street.

I contemplate the wall and mysterious - it is the walls of the Vatican?
An aqueduct?

I see at the end Castel Sant'Angelo. Ah! I find it again: It is the "Pasetto. A combination of armored bunker, secret passage, the wall and escape. If it was Brennan, was here to escape the pope in his stronghold.
interesting.

Outside the building, the Castel Sant'Angelo offer itself as a Roman Centurion disguised, more or less well-trained boys to the photo shoot at. 15 euros will cost the fun. And that plastic feathers on the head and sheet metal sword in her belt.

make a few of my Yanks this
Awesome.

the view of the surprisingly fast-flowing Tiber I know already from yesterday, I enjoy it but today even more than that I think of how many millions it up from that, my body may have already enjoyed it - and how many thousands of years this here might now go that way.

Rome. The eternal city. Incredibly old, incredible that here our whole European culture has been greatly influenced.
incredible how Rome has permanently influenced the whole world history. And today, Berlusconi. Well, at least provides the world today for amusement.

Roman is right there when I returned to the city, the historic center of fighting. The Forum Romanum me at your feet - forbidden to enter, clear, but enough to see here more more than that I can under me, 15 bi2 20 meters below the current floor level of the city in times of looking that are so incredibly long ago that it may very well be down there actually once the Emperor Constantine and Caesar went in person to the marble slabs may be.

One can feel really captures the history of the world sees clearly in mind that big down there might have happened. I can not get enough.

disputes could be excellent at what I inspect me then: The National Monument, or "Monument to Vittorio Emanuele II in Piazza Venezia.

huge Italian flags in front of a gleaming white, almost kitschy-monumental Columns orgy, a huge equestrian statue and architecture that has, in my opinion, nothing of the sublime, mathematically precise and subtly dazzling perfection of the ancient Roman temples, but the shows off and takes.

But in national shrines should not shake it - on our Quadriga yes I will get nothing ...

I am pleased when I discover amid the shimmering heat of the Frankfurter Allgemeine newspaper stand - but today not a single German newspaper sold more. Would have laughed too, that ridiculous German enclave just outside the National Monument.

Tourists seems Monument to please not right - use the big crowds on buses and exiting the plaza, groups gather, people find themselves - but rather to break up from here to the Roman Forum, St. Peter's, or - as I do now - to the Colosseum .

The Colosseum yesterday so I had visited, now I take my time, enjoy the sights and insights into the building and must wonder: This superb, this abundance, this mass. Incredibly, as the have done earlier.

Almost it seems as the roar of the crowds, hear the roar of lions irritated, if not again a plastic centurion and a cluster of fat Americans get one back again to the here and now would.

Goethe expressed his impressions thus: If you look at such a start, the two thousand years or more old, is altered by the changes of time as varied and from scratch and still the same soil, the same mountain, indeed often the same column and wall, and the people nor the traces of the old character, it will be a partaker of the great decrees of fate, and so will the viewer from start to develop tough as follows Rome on Rome, but the different epochs of the old and new self to each other.

Yes, that is: In Rome, every stone breathes history. Each street. Each corner - unforgettable.

Past Emperor Augustus and other emperors and Caesars I bahne astonished me back steps into the streets, I know stroll, or on the Campo di Fiori and hit me in the direction of Villa Borghese by the smog and the thousands of scooters.

A honking and din, a jostling crowd, and - where is the quintessential Italian comfort? In Rome, she is not in any case. Hardly something the Roman species differs from the one I've seen in Tokyo, New York or Seattle. Well, except for the oppressive heat.

I propose to break away from the Trevi Fountain, by this shoppende million city and I have always to wonder how this Luis Vuitton superstores - faceless and characterless - stop in all the cities can I visit. I mean, who drive for Rome, fly halfway around the world to Tokyo, 6 hours sitting in the plane to New York to be served then by ladies and buy a really expensive, design technically questionable, dark brown bag, which is also in Berlin-Charlottenburg get bought?

I do not know.

But I am happy as I was on the piazza of the Popolo get some air to breathe.

I climb up the mountain to the Villa Borghese and I contemplate the city of five hills. In addition to the mine Although I know no more, but I guess from here the size of this city - and how they have worked for thousands of years as a juggernaut, wonder of the world and ruler of the known world needs. In

me someone has a love message painted on the road - or a curse?

I almost 2 hours strolling through the park of the Villa, before I tell again - filled the lungs with fresh clean air - venture into the city. Smog and noise, go back, when I again suggest the narrow streets.

stop short suddenly I stand there and: Before me the ingenious Pantheon.

But even in Rome is too little to worried that it is serious, the whole study. He has everything from infinite, together glean abundant although rubble. Of course is it less pure Ernst strangers to see something right and to learn.

said even after all the sir. And so I wonder in amazement at this milestone by the ancient architecture, can only shake his head to have found this gem so unexpectedly in such a colorless street and move on.

home. Finally. I make the door behind me, blocking out the smog. Patrol my sweaty things off and prepare me a great pasta dish. I resümmiere: Rome. The So you were! Overwhelming loud, hastily packed, breathtaking, sometimes disappointing trivial and yet so stimulating!

For now, I've had enough - I think to myself, as I give the pasta into the boiling water - look at my Cervélo that stands motionless for 2 days in the corner of my studio, and can not wait to finally break up again. Finally take off their clothes and breaking civil. Cycling. Road cycling - MioGiro, my current di'Italia. It can go on. Naples is waiting. And Sicily. to see even that much.

Even Mr. Goethe may have similar thoughts going through your mind: I think of Naples, in fact even in Sicily, it is a both in the story than in pictures, that in these havens of the world, once the volcanic hell so violently open, and thousands of years residing and enjoying it startles and deceptive power. But I suggest to me the hope that like many great views from the senses in order before I left the old capital of the world still use right.

burns in me already the anticipation is stirring fresh zest and energy flows through my legs. I see the Tour de Suisse and slurp my noodles at some point I fall asleep. The alarm clock will take me 6 of the hot springs.

So I fell asleep because the world go in dreams again to all the places of history, where the Connect fate of the world so fantastic to me of their own fantasy of glittering ancient leaves. Think of all the things I've seen and learned and I am pleased to finally have time to be here.

because tomorrow I will have taken away my road bike again. To the south. In direction of Sicily.

How Do I Audition For Nh Media Entertainment?

Warszawa.



95% of the city were destroyed, said the tour guide, though I am long gone as a stranger. Consider, then, if you look at the old building, not on actually old, but only to reconstructed, carefully reconstructed, adding to the slightly stocky woman. We walk through the historic center of Warsaw, the only center in the world that counts despite complete destruction of war and subsequent reconstruction of the Unesco World Heritage Site. We have reconstructed so carefully and devotedly, that the new is indistinguishable from the old town center, says the tour guide, and I have to Frankfurt To think of the east side of the Romans, as the buildings are there as an oversized doll houses, empty and uninhabited, while here everything looks old, as if the building facades for filming was in gray.



little later I stood in front of the Palace of Culture, which might be considered an emblem of the city, he would have been built at the behest of Stalin. A gift to the Polish people, says the tour guide, this one had all the gifts to Stalin like to do without. At the foot of the Palace of Culture, young men play basketball on three adjacent sites. The evening sun is struggling to them from long shadow in the muggy air, it is a mystery to me how you can sprint without a break after the ball. I pay 20 zlotys and go up to the viewing platform. The Palace of Culture is the tallest building in the city, and Warsaw is at my feet like a model train layout. In the evening rush to move cars, trams and pedestrians slow-motion through the wide streets where one could remove the wonderful parades. 1.7 million people live here, it is Poland's largest city.



In front of the Presidential Palace, a wooden cross and is guarded by police and army. A group of Boy Scouts has it placed there in April, shortly after the plane crash of Smolensk. Since then, it is Poland's armed simplest object to split a four-meter high cross made of beech wood, insignificant at first glance, and yet in a position to the entire country into two camps. When they wanted to bring it in early August in a nearby church, and there were scuffles between Catholics and the police. The cross stood. It must, then the modern Crusaders, are left in memory of the victims at his place, until you've decided to build a monument. Shortly after it came to the counter-demonstration: 6000 Warsaw shouted in chorus: "Tear from the presidential palace! It blocks the view of us on the cross, "and, less sarcastic, "A Cross belongs to the church!" A solution has not yet been found, and so the prayer, with their grave candles, rosaries and singing the vorbeiflanierenden tourists an exciting spectacle.



At the foot of the old town runs along the Vistula, unimpressed with its immensity. The Warsaw do not like them, they call our dirty river. Here, the Vistula is working for weeks trying to make the Nile to its top position in dispute. Category: Most beautiful river in the world. The shore is undeveloped, nowhere a café, a bar, a promenade, just a semi-legal club pulls in a few weeks time it all here. Then come to Warsaw, but only to dance. Their city, they know it can now compete with the biggest, most beautiful cities in Europe. The banks have come from Wroclaw, the culture of Krakow, now waiting in Warsaw that the rest of the world understands.

Step Dad And His Daughter

power of words - Natural Wonder SWR - Prof. Elger


* Power Word

power of words - well known!

Here is the science and that wisdom can prove.

THANKS to the wonders of nature and Team SWR Professor Christian Elger



The experiment conducted in the mission was carried out with Professor Christian Elger
from the University of Bonn.

http://www.swr.de/naturwunder/-/id=1223312/nid=1223312/did=6669986/1jf6br8/index.html

We have all been the power of words to have felt. Whether we or others courage have made and then provided a great performance, or whether we have inadvertently said something that could be forgiven difficult - words change more often than we think. We can encourage comfort, or praise, but also lie or swear, choosing our words deliberately.

Even when the written word does this phenomenon and is used for example in advertising. With words you want us tempted to buy! Can they affect our actions - even if we perceive them may not even aware of? In the great natural wonders experiment we have taken this phenomenon very closely examined. In cooperation with the neurologist Professor Christian Elger from the University of Bonn, we conducted an experiment that shows how great the power of words really is.

Our 30 test subjects are initially unaware because we let them in the belief that it would go to in the language differences in men and women. All solve a simple set of puzzles. They have to bring words into a meaningful order, so that they form a sentence. Here's an example: "at night - Cats - gray - all - are "becomes" All cats are gray ". One half of the subjects solve puzzles neutral, the other half solves puzzle in which certain words are mentioned. to where we have quietly accommodated words that fall under the umbrella term "age" and characterize the subjects of this term: gray, as, wrinkles, antique glasses, ...

When subjects have completed their sheets, we are moving into the real experiment, because we ask for submission of the worksheet at the other end of a long hallway. This course is - unbeknownst to the subjects - measured the time needed for going to the end. Our calculations show that the subjects that were shaped in their worksheets to the term "age", were almost 2 seconds slower than the neutral control group. They needed for the 20m long corridor 12.9 seconds, as opposed to 11.1 seconds in the neutral group.

The explanation is as simple as striking. The human brain consists of different modules that are responsible for different things. The different regions are so well networked that they influence each other. Activates the perception of emotionally charged words the amygdala in the brain, known as the amygdala. The activity is then transferred on the adjacent motor cortex that controls our movements - we act! Or in this case - we are running slower.

of their daily life of this research is high. Although someone does not bring words to actions, which he refuses there was in principle, but they can generate, for example in advertising a mood that makes us susceptible to certain products. Let us think of summer, sun and beach, we buy more, for example, an ice cream. If we book our vacation, we look for more from a hotel with a display that holiday feeling awakens in us. A sun-drenched terrace overlooking the South Sea beach and a Mediterranean buffet draw in an entertaining atmosphere and promise us more than a balcony with sea views and dinner in the dining room.

Such advertising messages are one thing, but on the other hand, we can use the power of words for us. Who motivates children and ascribes them good, some with better performance in school. Colleagues who are praised for their good work, are more powerful and also in sports does the trick of self-motivation!

This phenomenon has been scientifically proven. It was named after Pygmalion, a sculptor who created a woman made of stone and according to his ideas so perfectly crafted that it is in it love. The Pygmalion effect is that a person is achievement of a performance more if they expect of him. This applies to both positive and negative effects for - so choose your words carefully!

All broadcast dates:

08.05.2010 at 20:15 clock, The great natural wonder show, The First

Tally 7.2 Software Exception: C0000005

Rex † 08.26.2002

I dΛnke you for DΞin VΞrtrΛuΞn. In
mΞinΞm HΞrzΞn will you unvΞrgΞsslich
mΞin wΛhrhΛftigΞr King sΞin

Aoe2multiplayer Mediashare

© Himp

VΞrgΞssΞn ΞinΞ is FΦrm dΞs VΞrrΛts

Me intΞrΞssiΞrΞn Λuf DΛuΞr only "bΞsΦndΞrΞ" MΞnschΞn

DΛs WΞrtΞsystΞm dΞr mΞistΞn vΦn Ξuch for me is just Ξin lΛchhΛftΞr, vΞrlΦgΞnΞr, hΞuchlΞrischΞr, kümmΞrt SΞlbstbΞtrug

Ξs WölfΞ not wΛs SchΛfΞ dΞnkΞn

KΞin WΦlf Ξin SchΛf hΛt to FrΞund

SchΛfΞ ΞrkΞnnt mΛn Λm VΞrrΛt
WölfΞ Λn IhrΞr TrΞuΞ

KΦnzΞntriΞrt Ξuch Λuf jΞnΞ diΞ blΞibΞn,
Not diΞ Λuf, diΞ kΦmmΞn and gΞhΞn

I jΞdΞn bΞwundΞrΞ, dΞr in dΞr LΛgΞ is mΞin WΞsΞn to ΞrkΞnnΞn

In mΛnchΞn BΞrΞichΞn I'm sΦ zΞrbrΞchlich in ΛndΞrΞn UnΛntΛstbΛr

Only gΛnz dürfΞn wΞnigΞ me bΞhΛuptΞn kΞnnΞn to

JΞsus würdΞ me sΛgΞn "GΞh and frΞuΞ you, DΞinΞ hΛt LiΞbΞ you gΞrΞttΞt" I do not

lΞbΞ WΞlt in ΞurΞr I lΞbΞ in SΦdΦm and GΦmΦrrhΛ

KΛtzΞn unsymphΛtisch to me, not to me siΞ pΛssΞn ΞinfΛch

MΞinΞ KindhΞit wΛr Ξin KriΞgsgΞbiΞt

I vΞrtrΞtΞ dΞn UndΞrgrΦund

Is DΞin WΦrt wΞrt nothing, nothing Λuch DΞin LΞbΞn WΞrt

Fuck NΦrmΛlity

I'm stΦlz dΛrΛuf sΞin to 'ΛndΞrs "

I liΞbΞ SchnΞΞ and NΛturkΛtΛstrΦphΞn

I wurdΞ niΞ ΞrwΛchsΞn

For diΞ mΞistΞn I blΞibΞ Ξin unlösbΛrΞs RätzΞl

MΞinΞ FrΞundlichkΞit future only nΦch jΞnΞn diΞ kΦmpΛtibΞl applies to me are

WΞnn mΛn to nΛch FrΞundschΛft sΞhnt, dΛrf mΛn sΞinΞ ZΞit not vΞrschwΞndΞn Λn undΛnkbΛrΞ dummΞ MΞnschΞn, dΞrΞn HΦbbys VΞrrΛt and HΞuchΞlΞi are

WölfΞ hintΞrlΛssΞn immΞr ΞinΞn blΞibΞndΞn Ξindruck,

SchΛfΞ not

MindΞrwΞrtigΞs Λuf DΛuΞr hΛt kΞinΞn BΞstΛnd

Ξin WΦlf kΛnn dΞin bΞstΞr FrΞund sΞin,
ΦdΞr dΞin schlimmstΞr FΞind.
DΛs ΞntschΞidΞt dΞr WΦlf

Salary Of A Pilot In Canada

Tappa 5: Rome

Oh, how wonderful, I think, as I beisiete push the curtains from the window of my castle bower look and the sun is already high above the level that I now must cross - a stage yet, one only, then I'm in Rome. What prospects?

I have breakfast with the two American women who are visibly excited about my outfit Cervélo road bike. Apparently, the two athletes only know from television, perhaps a reason why they treat me with such respect. If only they would know that my leg today should be only 50 km ... but even silly 50 km for the SUV-dependent Americans probably a number of impossibility.

cereal, coffee, sausage sandwiches, juices - has the buffet all that goodbye does my heart so I squat well fed on the narrow saddle of my bicycle, me of the wonderful hotel whose guest I was allowed to be today and step inside: Roma, the eternal city calls.

The departure of Civita Castellana is on the other side of the mountain - the road that I had yesterday fought their last strength up, I have to go back, fortunately not. rewarded me with a God of the stages-rich serpentine, steep descent, which is surprisingly completely car-free.

up close to 70 km / h I come, crouch down on my road bike, head down position - only offer so little air resistance as possible! Apparently I'm

but not awake enough for me when I brake in one of the narrow hairpin turns in, and I notice that the curve is too tight, I'm too quick, troubled, pull hard on the brakes, the bite immediately into the flanks of my wheels that block again - I slide around the curve, drift, uncontrolled and thank beating heart to God that he has just this moment a car in the opposite lane can go.

Otherwise I would be dead now

WAKE UP!

The shock runs deep, but evaporates quickly. For soon I reached the wide plain outside Rome and drive to the SS3, a small side road to the highway, which - then one assured me - should remain relatively spared from the daily madness jam to and from Rome.

it remains - but it must be my wheels and my Butt with the worst street fight, I have seen since the fall of 1989: The road is so fragile that it seems that I drive on a loosely defined mosaic. Every few meters gape thick, long, deep holes, some deep enough to 20 cm into the lower bed of the street, holes that were washed out by numerous showers and surprise each axis that has the misfortune of her having to neck breaks .

I can hardly get over 20 mph and must alpine slalom to me not to ruin my Carbon. The SS3 to Rome is hell!

It takes a solid hour, until, in a village on a major road, turn finally get passable asphalt under the tires - but I find myself in a never-ending stream of stinking cans again greet Rome can!

First, I take a little break at a gas station, fill in the already badly battered drinking supplies, eat a bite and throw myself into the jam: one to pass laws for the good clay here in Italy and so I cough myself carefully past the line of cars - certainly not without now and again overtaken by the snake to be.

It must be somewhere right here! Rome is here somewhere!, I think, than the road sometime back as a highway looks like the lanes are divided, left and right grow up noise barriers to be me overtaking cars faster and faster and all that is slowly no longer looks like a rural Italian idyll, but rather according to European urban gridlock.

But it all has its advantages: I can finally scratch again to connect the 30-marker, and can use my bike as such! Fast it goes to the sedate street canyon views to the left, sometimes twining right.

Then a tunnel is long and dark ...

... and at one time I'm in Rome! Middle of it! Unprepared no sign, no entrance, no nothing, I'll shoot out of the tunnel from the left and right, up and down roads coming into my SS3 to lead, buses, vans, army of scooters and cars galore come to mind once on the lanes, all honking, all gestures, all pushing and pushing and that which is now Rome! AchdumeineGüte!, I think quickly and can not even think as fast as I have to cope with the Babylonian traffic chaos.

Goethe The Lord has certainly shocked no dark tunnel and wild Fahrmaneuver - be rode into the city was more well:

"The desire to come to Rome, was so great was growing so much every moment that no stay was longer. Now I'm here and quietly and, it seems to calm my whole life, "

As calm as it is with him, not me standing on pedals I have to fight my way through the chaos -.. And have no idea where I am at all.

lights are well-meaning advice. A red ... well, let's say, red recommends now perhaps even stop. Why, of course, hardly anyone has. The Italians will stop at red lights only when the others are taken off. As long as the crossing is still free, he drives.

Okay, I quickly understood and I believe it. could

road markings are, well, instructions on how to use the available asphalt . But the Government has of course not counted on the cleverness of the car, bus and Scooterfharer, because the roads are much too wide, as that could be just the two ride side by side. No, the Italians, the available width of the road uses much more efficient, and travels to fourth in a row on two tracks.

Ah, jo, or understood, no problem!

So I fight my way about half an hour through the honking, deafening chaos of the metropolis, 'm still very excited about the fact that I - as an orderly and law-abiding German, moreover, the son of a police officer - do not see an accident when I reach the Tiber.

Tiber, water and lifeline of the city. The river, which will bring me to the center. For orientation I've long run out. And to read the signs stay with this traffic is no time - even inadvertently looked up and they will find themselves again under one of the smelly diesel buses.

As if by magic, unplanned and even more fascinating, I get some time from racing, turn around and ... raced right by the entrance to the Castel Sant'Angelo. Well, I call intuition!

I have the road to which I have on a Google-expression of it, but I'm so overwhelmed by the impressions here that refuses my brain, I thought to be associated with operations.
I give to my navigational efforts and ask one of the many Carabinieri who are at a crossroads. The smiles and points to the opposite road: to Campo di Fiori, it is probably only a few hundred meters.

I only have to cross the Tiber and walk a few minutes.

I am pleased once again had a super intuitive, sending Vittorio, the owner of my studio, a text message that I would soon be there, and move on my road bike clattering hucke the wing, this historic stone slopes - now totally fascinating - City.

Italians are crazy racing. I know - not for nothing is the Giro d'Italia to boot people as sacred. While experiencing the Italian road bike sports a similarly deep crisis as here in Germany - but less for the reasons that this country an ARD has moved to phase out all racing activities, but rather on a completely ruined youth system that has worn out his driver even before these are professionals in general.

And so it will not be surprised that I hardly bicycles - see - let alone road bikes. Rather, a scooter follows the other.

I cross streets quaint. Wow, I think me and can not close my mouth out of sheer fascination - this is Rome? I almost feel like in this small, picturesque villages, a documentary on arte culinary delights of the most remote regions of Europe - but not as central Rome.

sound is there, too busy. But in some streets, it is only the clacking of my cleats, making the noise. Where then is my loft?

At last - well, let's say, not 45 minutes later than agreed - Vittorio get to the Campo di Fiori, greets me exuberant and nods approvingly at me: "Did you ride your bike in Rome with"
he asks.
"Of course!" I reply. And I know what he thinks now ... Crazy German, you have no idea how lucky you were!

We go another 400 feet, turn a few corners and are available at some time in front of a house that has the same color as Vittorio's perfectly fitting shirt: "Here is your studio," he says and raises his hand.

He closes on the first floor of a small apartment in the house. A two-room apartment, very smart, a galley kitchen - the refrigerator is full - a shower room, a futon and a Seating area. All the fun for 100 € the night.

Perfect!

Vittorio wishes me a pleasant stay in Rome, goodbye, put his 200 € and a roar - of course - like on a scooter.
once I open all the windows. The noise of the nearby highway crashes in the flat, but the midday heat and the smog of this juggernaut.

showers!

None 2 hours later I'm back on the road. Amazing that there are up to the Colosseum than 2 kilometers. It is afternoon, actually I will wait until tomorrow to use my day off for a sweeping blow through Rome, but it is burning inside me. I will see it! Will, Will!

Fast overjoyed I stroll along the Roman Forum. So here. So here it was above 2,000, 2,300 years ago, where the almost mythical Romans have laid the groundwork for their empire, which still shapes all over Europe today. have Nero, Caesar, Trajan and the rest of them prevailed, - It was here where all of them. No - where they themselves are changed. Their feet, their feet on this genuine polished marble stones down there.

Fascinating!

The Colosseum me out of my shoes. It is bigger, more beautiful, more impressive than I ever imagined. It is touching, poignant. If one of the flanks This stadium looks up, one can only wonder say "Ahhh." Nothing more.

is not to make more. Unheard of this service. Unheard and immeasurably the times that lie in these stones. Unbelievable. So wonderful. So inspiring.

I remember as I sat back in the fifth grade in school and in history class literally had swallowed all that concerned the ancient Romans. Romulus and Remus, the founding myth of this city, climb to the greatest power in the world, the conquest, the emperor and Tribune, the limit and eventually the demise of the republic, the empire fragmented, merged into East and West Rome.

And now? Now I'm standing here. Finally, almost 30 years later, I see everything with my own eyes: Colosseum, Roman Forum, temples, columns. I'm impressed. Speechless.

begins As the sun slowly go down, I'll be on my way home. Not without some goodies in the Carrefour supermarket for a hearty pasta shop.

home runs on Euro sport - of course - cycling, dancing in the oven spaghetti in boiling salted water half naked while I brush my Cervélo and an ice cold Nastro Azzuro drink.

Sure, the stage today was not worth mentioning. But today was not a racing day. Today was the day when I was in Rome, the city the eons, and I'm ridden for a little while back was allowed to be children.

with dreams.
with stories.
with heroes and myths.

morning, I know, as I prefer to 22 clock the thin blanket over me and try to sleep despite the noise, tomorrow I will run my feet sore and take everything what I can offer this great city here .


stage 5 - Civita Castellana-Rom

Stage length: 55.06 km
gross travel time: 2 h 30 min journey time
net: 1 h 56 min
section: 27.8 km / h


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