Finally, I think, have breakfast at last and finally start! Not that Ravenna repugnant in any way would not mean that I do not need another day or two could spend - but yesterday's first stage, they might even have been so hard be, has rekindled my fire in the rear Cyclists: Now I will go, now I want out!
why my cell phone rang and 6:45 clock.
why I am again the first and only at breakfast.
And so I sit already 7:30 clock in the saddle, my leave of Hotel Argentario Ravenna and say goodbye. again
time: adventure on the highway
My role model Goethe had chosen a different route than I, because I'm going for a while the E55, which leads directly along the Adriatic coast, follow. He, however, turned into inland from Ravenna and was about to bring Ferrara and Bologna to Rome. But the mountains, so I think I am, I will only sweeten the next day's stage. For today I will once again see the sea.
First, however, I must find the road which led me to my way point Senigallia - to bring - just before the port city of Ancona. "Straight ahead," the doorman gestures from Bici, whatever I followed until I'm at a huge crossroads. The sign that anyone who would want to Ravenna, then turn left. So do I. The number of road is also true: E55. Only the large sign on which I remain, raise my suspicion.
The well-known highway symbol emblazoned there in 2 meters Height above me. Given a lot of "signs: trucks over a certain limit tons, motorcycles under a certain cubic limit, pedestrians, and - well - cyclists are here, are strictly forbidden. Funny, I think, put my road bike to the plate and look at my map, because there is this road is not shown as a highway.
I go to the cars that are just red and wonder through the open window.
"Ah, gehhhh," makes the driver translated and gestures: "Drive one, drive it, no problem!"
Okay, I think. The man with the sunglasses in the Fiat Punto's allowed.
little later I drive slowly initially as much as possible right, eager yes no drivers in the way of being. But after a few miles, when I notice that nobody here honks and it seems inzteressieren to actually do that here is a bike on the highway, I start to tell me to relax, I can for the first time my cramped view of tarmac ribbon and the white line I try to keep my left, solve, and enjoy the scenery. 
I slid as yesterday by a flat plane. No collection, no hillocks, nothing obscures the view over the fertile fields. Time alternated with corn salad and tomato plants from, rarely a pasture. Since, on the horizon, I can even dimly, the first peaks of the mountains. No, guys, tomorrow until I calm my legs to the next destination - stamp counter - Cesenatico.
I'm surprisingly good progress. The wind comes forth again from the sea, but obliquely from behind, so at least I do not feel the wind. Also, keep the temperatures so early in the morning still in check - I go hard but clean, but I'm not ready for me. my Forerunner on your wrist says I'm always around the 32 km / h on it, which is more rapid than in some earlier Liegeradfahrt and me fast enough.
The road is great. Even on the little-used emergency lanes are barely pebbles, hardly do I have to dodge again, and I notice little waste. The cars roaring but as always by me, but seem to keep a distance and although I am the highway speeds really happen-like, I never have the feeling to be here at risk.
And me then to culmination by a deep dark bauer Alfa Romeo Carabinieri outdated - and me will take note - I choose any hardship if the "bicycle prohibited" signs behind each driveway, which I pass come to ignore final.
Well, at least, the Highway Driving with me and Tradition: On my first big bike I get into the German Porta Westfalica in Canada I drive it anyway, and in Japan I have to reel off fast 20 km on the highway. Why not now in Italy?
And before I realize anything is done about 40 kilometers, just behind the drive-through Cesenatico bar attracts a lot of reeds and reed and Caribbean atmosphere to me, here to hold my first regular drinking break. Beautiful Italian style break
I sit and drink two Lipton Icetea on Ex, then I fill my water bottles with fresh cold water and dilute all very delicious apple juice.
For my legs I think that is this: I drive and stop every 30 miles, relax by about 15 to 20 minutes to relieve my neck, something to eat and drink. This, I know from my experience helps me to use these short breaks to regenerate and in the end such a long tour to endure.
has addition, a psychological aspect: for if I do not drive with the idea of the total length in the head: "Oh cheek, there are today 130 km before me, but I always drive with" Still 30 km to the break. "
And it does make a lot more bearable, right?
addition: After only one kilometer I'm back in the twenties. And so I Hangle me from break to break: From 130 km, 4 pieces.
And I'm sitting at Cesenatico just before 9 and was the first clock behind me already.
"How motivating", I think, than the pretty Kassierein draped on a cigarette next to me on one of the sleek stools, plus a Diet Coke opens and begins a phone call. This allows the break to spend good - the cute blonde Sexy Talk a listen and thereby cool the hot lungs with ice-cold drink. perfect.
my sweet tears me a text message from a pipe dream to the next. And so the 15 minutes go by quickly - happy and motivated, but noting that the sun is slowly preparing to aground in top form, I push my bike on the road, set up and jack me up. Goes out, stitch two is on the agenda.
I think quickly in a round kick and the only way to fly along SS16. Next to me I imagine the coast, right next to me - to greet the gray mountains - far, far away. I'm surprised the driving behavior of the Italians: So many smart people in front of my trip I played the same number of sluice tips - and what is it? All times halbsowild not. The Italians do not drive differently than the Germans. No, better, I would say, because here on the step I was not accosted once, cut or - very popular - they are sprayed with water washer.
gently overtake the guys, do not drive too fast. What more could you want?
The sun beats down only so and so is it no wonder that I - for whatever reason - at some point decide to leave the highway to drive along the coast. There must be a coastal!, I speak my mind. In the sun I'm leaving my SS16 and and drive a fifteen-kilometer ... Detour. There are of course, no coastal road. With headwinds should I go back on the highway to fight - and wasting 45 minutes in blazing heat, because my brain once again had an exposure.
missing now only ... um ... we say ... a mountain.
There!
I reach Cattolica. The place does not sound very religious, so is he. The resort takes its name from a Catholic council before 1,700 years. Well, if that is not a story? Even the brother of Napoleon stayed here - he pulled in front of the Cattloica was already crowded Rimini. Blessed is he who loves the mountains
But the mountain. For heavy side wind that comes just before the road through from behind, drives me, makes me happy, makes me optimistic about the looks, what is to come immediately. With less than 40 km / h cruising speed - I do not pay more already ger forwards - I rage in a wall of hills.
For between Cattolica and Pesaro, the last village before Rimini, has scooped the good Lord a small range of hills. And just over there I have now. It is at 12 clock, the sun is right above me. It burns relentlessly down on me, sweat is pouring and I complete my water supply safe side once more before I venture into the pitch.
First, it is
los moderate. I need a place that is surprisingly pretty high up. I switch on the small leaf, take my time, step and step and realize that I have, despite the marked rise still 25 km / h on it. With the recumbent, I would be noticeably slower.
goes behind the site then release it. Before me a mountain. And moved toward the street a band which is straight at him - and steeper increases. My feet go hard ICCH gasp, drop hanging from the nose down and I breathe away my water only pretending. from the 25 km / h, 20th Then 15th
but never slower. Even in the smallest gear
and with the greatest effort I can keep the 15th There
no shadows here. And then only briefly. A twitch of coolness. I'm enjoying the ride though. After have been more dominant shades of yellow, I can finally look back in full green, see trees, see lush grass. Beautiful.
left of the road I can see the country - far as the eye. How far do I have now probably be above zero? The wind, which was just annoying and yet hold back from the side, he comes from behind. He helps me but not kicking, also cools much, but to me he prefers songwriter. Tunneled from the mountains, he hisses in a few Seconds to comb that can see I did.
And although I am struggling here must, although burn my legs, my gloves are so wet that they can no longer safely access the link, even though my feet literally in the Sidis are in the beds and I The same is almost empty've been drinking, even though my heart is close to the 200 is dry as the Gobi my gullet and my head is empty as the universe - but I still enjoy this little bit of loneliness, this wave between Cattolica and Rimini is so lonely, so empty and so quiet. Not even the humming of my circuit I hear - glide through the void. recovery in pain.
some point but was worth the work. Each pitch takes place once you finish that ICCH knows only too well, and so my heart is filled with a somersault when I arrived at the crest of the mountain, discover a gas station that even a "bar" has. I sometimes bend, jack me out and feel like Pantani, who just the Mont Ventoux has defeated when I clap with eierigem step and sweat-soaked back into the conditioned Kaubuff, I buy three bottles of ice cold iced tea and I am sitting in front of the window and my marvel at work. 
My bike is standing there, casually leaning against a gas pump. He sees not what we accomplished here in the last 7, 8 kilometers have. It stands there, as always, at any time ready to rock at him that I Straßße. And it is my faithful Cervélo care if I do it with a ring bone up a slope or chastise me from the wind beducke because I selbige on the other side as fast as possible down like. What I am doing well because after 5 minutes. I hang on the handlebars, making the cat's back, according to claw my sponge gloves in the bar tape, winkle in my legs and buzzing in the free-wheeling down. Wind slows down, so I'm not 60 via km / h out, but fun to the few miles anyway.
Party and plastic land in Rimini
Funny I think to myself when I reach the Gate of Rimini: As efforts are being uphill from half an hour - and rides down the same path on the other side in a breathless five minutes.
A beautiful parable on the life, right?
When I come through the gate and at the same time through the pedestrian zone drive - slowly, slowly - to me the city is so very not feel like what I've heard of her before. Italy surprised again: A clean, lively, chic Einkauufsstraße with gelati shops and all kinds of shops attracts tourists and locals alike. Can not see anything from Party, drinking and disco. This is but still.
some point I'm through the historic center and drive through a ghost riders on the coastal road near the beach. In Italy, of course, no one cares if a road bike rides in a one-way street against the direction, even the carabinieri look away discreetly when they come to meet me. But we go the party area. Next to me - the raging sea, - there is a beach club to the next. The baths roar with disco tunes, people cook in the heat under umbrellas, oversized plastic playgrounds should also make the little ones quiet.
The overkill is completed of all kinds of clubs and hotels on the right. Meanwhile, the road has turned into a comfortable way. Again and again I have to dodge the bathers. Eventually I reach a large roundabout. In the middle of the globe - the same plastic, which is also in New York at the United Nations. I am but it is too hot to photograph them.
I lean my bike on the rail and sit on a bench. leave the last sip hot tea Apfelschorl-slide down my dry throat, look out for a kiosk and decide for it, but only once to enjoy the infinite blue of the sea looking refreshing. So much time must be!
little later I kick around again. Continue on the SS16, in his usual tact, at a normal speed, with his usual suffering. The backpack makes me slow problems with the shoulders.
reports also, my butt again, and in general, hurt the wrists. But I can not get anything out of step, I stare fixedly at the pavement, through the flying below me, and I think as long as I bash away so quickly it can all also still not be that bad.
Then unveermittelt, I ride in Fano, the last major town before my goal Senigallia.
It welcomed me an almost deserted scene. Sure, it's noon, the sun is high up, sizzles ailing relentlessly and dried everything out moist. Except those who need it and those who believe that they would now dare not step out the door. Fortunately for me, because I can wander around the picturesque town almost entirely untouched by the otherwise chaotic Italian city traffic enjoyed in short, the shady alleys, before I again find again on the straight highway to me the last 30 kilometers to the staging point for today will bring.
And so it is then. I can easily roll over on the wide side stripes, which was for the thousands of bathers for parking milled directly into the rock, which rises steeply beside me a few dozen meters. The wind comes from behind and now I reach easily into the bottom handlebar mount 35 km / h, which I can hold out. I will shoot stoically along the smooth asphalt, an overhauled again and again by Piaggio and Fiat. People I meet do not of course - the heat is unbearable.
the heat slowly enough, but really!
My backpack does have a - Airstripes called - ventilation, but even this fails in the high amount of sweat that separates my back. I wonder if I strutting a water trail behind me.
And again I am seized of the hunting instinct, when I catch up to two arduous racing cyclists, just suck the wind shadow, then go with enough excess speed over. You do not even salute. Well overtaken, I would not like to ...
I one last break was doing in the bar of a campsite by the sea, where I drink a full liter of iced tea before the big sweet eyes of the young daughter of the kiosk owner is empty, then I swing down on the wheel and take the final 5 kilometers attack.
Senigallia to reach clock at 13:30. It is the Albergo
Bice in which I have reserved me a room.
From the outside the house makes her a little. Unadorned barricaded. Nothing special. Also, as I enter, I find myself first again in a more than crowded entrance area.
streaming with sweat as I am. All is fine, I submit my passport, get my key now, the Bici? - May with the room, a matter of honor!
And when I'm at the top - what a delight! - I'm in a big, big room, have a big, big bathroom with the best shower I've ever enjoyed! Oh, how it hisses when my cold water, the salt-sunscreen-sweat-flying diesel dust mixture rinsed from the skin!
When I look out the window, I look to determine 200 year old roof tiles, I hear a distant bell ringing, I sniff tastiest ingredients from the restaurant kitchen below me ... and so I relax cooled for 20 minutes under the water that I happen to be like in paradise. What a heated battle!, I think, as I want to wipe me, but realize that I do not need as fast as the water evaporates, even here in the cool bath.
wash clothes.
wheel brush.
write short text messages.
And now I'm hungry!
on the beach is Although it is delicious - very tasty - but I find nothing that would open. No restaurant, not even a snack, I can offer delicious food. So I a mistake, two hours at the endless Adriatic around, get more and more hunger, but will also be compensated with a bikini-overkill at its finest, every ten meters running by here one Ornella Muti. Nice ...
Well, enough of them but you also will not.
also in the inner city, it does not look different. Although the shops are open, but from Ferragamo and Louis Vuitton I'm not tired. So I look for a supermarket, where I am with salad, Parma ham and a delicious Olive bread designers and trot through the hot, narrow streets of this picturesque city back to the hotel.
way I seek the policy. A nuclear power plant is the last thing one would expect here, and yet - the whole town is full of posters. Rightly so - to reject you! Let kidding you not like they did with us! Forza! 
eating with my bag in hand, I misled a little confused by the streets until I get to the mighty castle of Senigallia. There it make me a few girls who have made it in the cooling moat on the lawn in the shade cozy - and I do it for them. Down in discharging cold sitting, I can eat my salad, kill the bread and drink an iced tea.
A drop in the bucket, of course, but at least something.
I swear, for that this evening at the Ristorante strike really.
So I'm sitting in the shade and I've hardly eaten and begin again to write cards to the loved ones at home, my phone rings and my baby's turn. We talk for a while - after all, tomorrow she flies off for its holiday to China. quite strange, I think a little sad how quickly life can change: A year ago, I alone and free and cucumber unbound by Canada and Japan and now I'm in love with a bleeding heart in Italy and really do not quite know how I can enjoy my tour. Or should. Or should.
be here and cycling is a dream.
be with her but still beautiful.
It becomes 17 clock and I say bye bye to the citadel, say goodbye once more from the great beach and redirect back to my hungry, filled with heartache and longing, battered body into the hotel. quick but - what a surprise - the negative feelings of an excellent red wine, a great salad and almost as divine to be designated Spaghetti Vongole supplanted ale - I refresh myself at a dinner that I did not have this quality in a long time.
running the flat of the well-filled restaurants to a World Cup match with Italy, concluded the men, complain and argue. I increased the wine slowly into the head and so I order me another Bistecca and hope that the forces of the bull from the arms of this beautiful piece of meat was cut, may be transferred to me. 
After all, tomorrow I will do my road bike away from the coast and inside draw in the mountains. Foligne is on the agenda - and when I inspect the card so I should get better Bistecca another order. So I stagger up, longing still makes me a text message, write down a sea of countrymen while I was dreaming up in shallow draft of the delicious evening air in the bedroom.
morning mountains.
mountains.
Ber ...
Section 2 - Ravenna-Senigallia
leg length: 130.7 km
gross travel time: 6 hours
journey net: 4 h 26 min
section: 28.9 km / h
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