Damian's DCS Blog Day 4: La Dolce Vita!

Harv and I awake to another stunning morning in Tuscany as the mist roles in over the hills, and the rest day has been nothing short of a masterstroke from the event organisers. The main issue now is that, 4 days into the journey, our kit has taken on a life if its own. The unique fragrance emanating from the radiators in the bathroom speaks volumes for the tremendous effort that we have been putting in, and the Chamois cream we’ve been ladling on, but we also know that there is a real danger that if we don’t wash our kit soon then it may well be condemned by Customs and Excise on our return to the country. Not the best.

As we set off from San Gimignano, spirits are high and the outlook for the day is spectacular, but the first incident of a remarkable day occurs after only 5 km when we come across a car crash on the main road we are looking to use to get up to our final destination. Initial concerns about one of our group being involved subside, but what follows is several minutes of heated negotiation with the local Carabinieri, who takes an instant dislike to us. His command of the English language is far better than our Italian, but we stand united by defying his orders to turn back, and (in a parody of Mark‘s Gospel) pick up our bikes and walk…then remount after the accident and cycle off upward and onward to the coast.

The next 2 hours of the journey takes in some beautiful countryside, as we head towards Pisa. The unexpected element of the sights on offer are a number of unusual ‘roadside assistants’, aka ladies of ill repute, who sit blatantly peddling their wares on the laybys on the side of the road as we cycle past. I wonder if they are the Italian alternative to Little Chef – but somehow I can’t see it taking off in the Home Counties for some time yet.

The only slight issue of the day is that our guide, French Fred takes us on a 5 km dirt track that resembles something from Junior Kick start and the Krypton Factor. Puddles, rocks and mud are the order of the day as we navigate this treacherous path, nervously watching our fellow riders to try and follow their tracks. Miraculously there are no punctures, but ‘Sir Les’ does manage to fall off his bike for the second time this week, and is therefore awarded the Jurgen Klinsmaan Diving Award at dinner later tonight.

The rest of the journey takes us through the sea side resorts of Viareggio, and with the long flat beachfront roads there is a surge of testosterone amongst our group – The Dirty Dozen – as we race at a ridiculously fast pace trying to drag each other along at speeds over 40 km/h. This rush of blood is not helped by the presence of Anthony Campbell (Campo), our resident cameraman who pulls up along side the train filming us from the side door looking like he should be in Vietnam, not Italy. Chief speedsters in our group are our 3 iron ladies – Jo, Andrea and Kerry (who just happens to be 4 months pregnant), and they ride like lunatics dragging everyone with them. The moral of this story is DO NOT mess with these girls, they are outstanding competitors and riders, so I get my coat and hang round at the back drafting and doing 30% less work than the pioneers at the front. I know my limits.

After 6.5 hours, 170 km and 4,000+ calories burnt, we arrive at the not so glamorous surroundings of La Spezia. It has been the best day’s riding by far and exactly what I had envisaged when I signed up to do this leg; stunning scenery, weather and great company – a great way to start any week. Once in the hotel I head as soon as I can into the tender loving care of our resident physio Rooster and his team. Having spent a serious number of hours in the saddle the treatment room starts to resemble The Somme as weary limbs, stiff backs and sore bums are starting to take their toll. Rooster is a hugely well respected physio, having looked after Freddie Flintoff through his high profile injuries over the past few years, so we all have a lot to be thankful for. Lawrence has been overheard asking Rooster if he thinks he has a chance in the IPL as a goalkeeper/batsman. Rooster, diplomatic to the end, pretends not to hear. After 4 long hard days cycling, my neck feels like it has a red hot poker stuck in it, and my thighs and hamstrings need some good old fashioned softening up which Rooster delivers big time.

After we’ve eaten, our regular guide Fred informs us that tomorrow is climbing day, and there are a number of ‘petit climbs’ – roughly translated this is French for “You poor Philistine bastards, you have absolutely no idea what you’re in for tomorrow. Up yours!” Just to add to the fun and games for the toughest day of the ride, Lawrence has declared that tomorrow is fancy dress day, and I collect my all in one oversize giraffe jump suit safe in the knowledge that I won’t be the only cyclist looking like a complete numpty tomorrow. How reassuring.

www.justgiving.com/dhopley

Back to blog index