It is 5 clock. The phone wakes me up gently - it should not, I lie awake anyway, and long for the day. Not that I think Rome is not great, but I'm here because I want to go einenn Giro di Italia. I'm here because my road bike would be controlled by this wonderful country.
up.
showers.
breakfast.
am An hour before the studio I throw the keys in the mailbox and move the Cervélo to the big highway in front of me.

Pleasant.
I let myself down on the saddle and drive off. The traffic lights are green - only now and then to get me to leave a lone truck, newspaper boys on mopeds buzzing through narrow alleyways. And I'm alone in the Colosseum bright sunlight of a new day for me. I walk around on the road to the sun and take my leave. Forum Romanum Emperor Augustus, Nero and all its Caesars - Hail to you and see you next time!

The North is industrialized. Reich.
The south is poor. I have views on arte.
south. How does that sound?
And then Naples ...

I think of Naples, in fact even in Sicily , it falls on a story than in both images, that in these havens of the world at the same time the volcanic hell opening up into violence and thousands of years residing and enjoying it startles and deceptive power.
Vesuvius and Etna, here I come!
But first I must leave to Rome - and towards Castell Gandolfo, the summer residence of the Pope.

"Castell Gandolfo" is written on the signs, probably, this ramp in two or three hours of tourist buses are overcrowded.
I sweat for me above, but I see nothing of the splendor of the papal summer palace, but I enjoy a wonderful view to the west of the Tiber River delta that spreads beneath me.

Up Velletri I endure a sometimes grueling up and down a short, steep climbs and toxic by wooded hills interspersed with small rapid descents. I drive on mountain rates between the fields, the little mini road with us a country road here would be the same used by truck traffic, as it was a highway. Annoying.

Behind Velletri is actually flatter - and lo! - Before me, I discover a group of racing cyclists. Eight, nine, ten men go in a small peloton. I decide to try to collect it and increase the tempo. Not an easy thing because the roads are bad, I must be very focus on drive around the potholes safe. In addition, the nerves Traffic, which now pushes past the usual high level of Italian in me. I slowly close to. Old boys and a few youngsters.
In a long right curve, I overtake the peloton with a friendly "Buon giorno". Some greet. I assign me a behind the two leaders. You drive at 25 km / h. I take leave for a few minutes, then it is boring to me.
Out Schert.
"Ciao" initiative.
And I'm gone.

by Cisterna, I get on, and then come to the right, the real and true Via Appia - a circumstance of lined avenue, straight as if drawn with a ruler. The first highlight of the day.

The whole length of the lines of the ancient Via Appia is restored, pulled to the right side of it, the main channel, and the water flows is lenient down, this is the ground right after the seas dried up and over to the field crops; far as the eye can see, It is built on or it could be if they could find tenants.
were also found. And so are corn, salads and lots of green stuff neatly lined up next to the fields and plantations me.

I have bad luck. A steady wind blowing from right bothers me. Not that he'd be slow but of the dense trees along the road, only a few gusts to the protected road. No, it is the smell. For the main channel that there were already too Wolfgang Goethe's time, seems no running, but rather to contain standing water.
And the word "water" is expressed here still nice.
In German: It stinks of shit! And not only as "Oops, someone was left a little fart ..." but as ... quickly get out of here!
And so I come clean, drive at 33, 34 km / h average, but the channel never leaves my side. And not twenty minutes later, it seems that I taste the smelly slag on my tongue.

I sit outside, my bike is parked next to me, as a young man who is obviously here to the inventory, will happen to me: "Ciao!"
"Buon giorno," I reply.
"Hai una bella corsa" he says. And I guess that's a compliment if my racing machine.
"Grazie," I say and look at him with puppy eyes ". Sorry, I do not speak Italian"
"Oh, nessun problema", as he says and stands up: "Where come from"
"Hamburg, Germany." I reply and take a sip of iced tea.
"Ahhh, Germania?" He says, clapping his heels at once, stretched out his right hand to the Hitler salute and barked a "Heil Hitler!" in the lowlands. To me, the iced tea almost high. I look at him shocked. He smiles, laughs and greets me again with the fucking Hitler salute. ! No, no, no good ":
" I must get out of here ", I think me and wave off, I say - but in a soothing tone. Who knows what is the thing. Apparently he is somehow to Hitler.
His father comes around the corner, now clings to the old masters Sohnematz and points to my bike: "Bella Biccicletta Guarda da Corsa"
"Ah, bella!" Makes the father. "Dove stai andando?"
I think he asks where I drive. So I answer "Sicilia, Catania - from Venezia."
make two large eyes. I continue: "Giro di Italia ..."
laugh As they nod and approval. The boys said again that his father, "Germania" I hear out. Now beat both her heels together and greet me in German. Oh no, not again! "Heil Hitler," shouted back the offspring.
"No, no" I get up and do ... um ... I have to go again.
dad asks: "Hitler no good?"
"Si si, Hitler, well nothing!" I reply. Then he smiled and stretched
Red Front-fist in the air and shouting "Avanti popolo!"
Ah, better already!
I point the thumb up to leave and do away from me. Why are abroad always happy times on this asshole Hitler? To go with my bad feeling in my stomach I breathe again the smell of the brown slurry in the main channel next to me.

Hopefully something happens soon!
fall left and right of me everywhere beautiful houses along the street are on the left and expire. This could build up excellent restaurants and diners - so we rented a house, so the visitors had a great view of the mountains in the east, which end in about 15 kilometers away like a wall of the plane.
Near Terracina - where the wretched Linealkurbelei should have an end, I see before me as the mountains come closer and closer. Aha, now done.

some point, they then project mächtihg menacingly next to me - I've reached the end of the Via Appia - Terracina is available in a few kilometers.
says What do the privy? It only stirs up my anticipation:
more gratifying and desirable location for us was the rock of Terracina, and no sooner we had it pleased, as we saw the sea before us. Shortly after, let us see the other side of the acropolis a show of new vegetation. Indian figs drove their big fat leaves the body between the low, greyishgreen myrtle, pomegranate trees with yellow-green and pale green olive branches. On the way we saw new, never before seen flowers and shrubs. Daffodils were blooming in the meadows and Adonis. You keep the sea for a while right, but stay left in the limestone rock nearby.
Well, that sounds tempting, I think me and compete in - Terracina this must be a turning point of the tour.

field to field.
tree to tree. dance
Almost like an LSD trip in light and shadow on my eyelids around. Time as the trees one or two rays of the sun - a million times I blink against the hot sun at noon and I long to Terracina, where I incited hope Mr Goethe, a new, different, more exciting section of the stage.

is pleasant is minimal: The sun has now reached its peak and appears to me from above through the sunglasses. Also an avenue would not protect me now before its ausmergelnden rays.
Only the mountains, be drawn up front within easy reach together, get closer to promise salvation. Behind it must be Terracina!

Then, finally, entrance sign Terracina! Break is near!

Page 312 BC leads the Via Appia was up here and - as was already since I set out for Venice to me to conquer this country - it will rub me again that strange touch of the ages that are our human history: who will all have stood here and looked up, then have held 2,000 years ago, when there rituals and expensive perfumes incense this temple alive?
master Goethe in any case does not mention the temple in his travelogue - apparently he was unearthed at that time.
but it takes me to the beach, where a small local bathers refreshed. No Ristaurante has open (noon is rest time here in Italy) and I must content myself with a greasy frozen pizza and a can of Coca Cola - well, I think, the right pasta gibts then just stop tonight. However, turns out
the place here on the beach as a true stroke of luck.

Bella Italia!

I saddle my race bike, complete before the reserves and drinking, Goethe has promised, I'm on SS 7 forward from reaching my milestone Gaeta.

I'm making good progress, though a stiff breeze from the sea forces me to the handlebars of my R3 racing bike again solid to hold in your hands. After the monotonous torture me is but a joy.

I fly almost here along the streets and the higher I climb the more fantastic, yes, the more breathtaking are the views, which I enjoy. Terracina is already far behind me in the haze of the surf.

most recognized me after the tunnel, an icy wind that comes from the slopes seaward side hinaufgedroschen, caught in the thick carbon spokes of my R-Sys wheels and drags the course of my racing bike - watch out!
One time it takes me about 50 things the sunglasses from his nose. Emergency braking. Invert. I'm ready for the worst - the glasses but miraculously unharmed.

People swim here - probably because there is no entrance fee and no spoils Hotel Liege our own fun. A heavy surf foaming on the white beach. Almost jealous I Look to the right. Should I stop short
, refresh me?

so I need this dream beach in the truest sense of the word to the right than kick people and to doggedly.
I cross one last mountain - the mountain of Gaeta - and ride on its crest a long left-hander along. Since, the goal is completed Gaeta on stage!

Mola di Gaeta greeted us again with the most Pomeranzbäumen. We stayed a few hours. The bay in front of the town provides one of the best views, the sea washes up approach. The eye follows the right bank and it recently reached the horn end of the half moon, we see on a Rock the fortress of Gaeta at a moderate distance. The left horn extends much further, until you see a mountain range, then the Vesuvius, then the islands. Ischia is across almost the middle.
Well, I think, as I watch from the balcony of my hotel room, neither the fortress of Gaeta, nor the half moon, not an island of Ischia, and certainly no Vesuvius.

I shower off the dust of the day, back to the Dove dufte Mencare and not on the Via Appia manure main channel does not for emissions and asphalt dust.
I do - hungry - in search of pasta. To find a nice restaurant, in which: - will broadcast the World Cup on giant LCD screens - of course. Here I let myself down, polish off two servings of macaroni and excellent drink the well-deserved Azzuro.
in heaven!

A great port - protected on three sides by majestic mountains, yes, I can understand why they settled here have.

I order a big salad with Tonno, a fat pizza with lots of cheese and a jug of red wine. It tastes wonderful - and even more glorious than a storm breaks out outside of the highest order. Completely drenched guests pour in, the booth will be full.
some point, I can rain for sheer noise and the thunder of a storm, which obviously just above Gaeta, is to hear any more - even when the weather announcer barks (in Italy an urbane air force colonel in uniform) the trend of the next 5 days in the restaurant - but I can see what's coming up on me.
rain. Storm. Thunderstorm. Outside it is
stockduster - the world is coming!
The next 7 days! All the Italian boot is declared a rain storm thunderstorm and suddenly I see very well bedröppelt of how the people who come in from outside.
seven days severe weather! 7 days weather in Italy. All of Italy?
No. In Sicily, it looked perfect ... When I
few minutes later, slightly tipsy from Vino Rosso falling into bed, making up the TV and try to ignore the violent thunder and wet pelt down outside, a plan matures in me ...

leg length: 142.8 km
gross travel time: 6 h 30
journey net: 4 h 47 min
section: 28.7 km / h
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