Cycling

After a great breakfast at my lucky find, this morning I headed out of the Sicilian capital, and found myself back on the road. I didn't really see much of Palermo — although I was here almost 24 hours, all I did was relax and catch up online — but I don't think I missed that much: apart from a few nice churches and museums (which are everywhere in Italy), it's really just a big and chaotic city. From Palermo, I headed south-west, uphill past the town of Monreale, and over a small set of mountains to Partinico. The weather was perfect when I first headed out, although it quickly deteriorated into a cold, light drizzle; and to some extent, the dreaded wind of previous days came back with a bite.

Today's cycling was still very windy, and quite cold. But it was very short, and it was downhill virtually the whole way. From last night's field near Corleone, it only took me about 2½ hours this morning to ride north out of the mountainous Mafia heartland; and down to Palermo, the capital and largest city of Sicily. It took a little while to get into the centre of Palermo — plus, I was forced for the first time to cycle on the autostrada (freeway), as there seemed to be no other way to reach the city centre (I don't think bicycles are allowed on the autostrada — but what the hell). Seeing as it was such a quick ride to the capital, I guess I can spend the rest of the day relaxing and recovering from my rugged time in the hills.

There's one thing that stands out in my mind, more than anything else, about today: it was really bloody windy! Today's riding was plagued by the worst, the strongest, and the most unpleasant head wind imaginable; and it stayed with me all day long. As I rode west from Lercara to Prizzi, through the Sicilian Mafia highlands with my semi-flat tyre; as I continued north to the infamous town of Corleone; and as I set up camp in an empty field for the night. Always, the wind was there: it was utterly relentless; and it battered not only my body and my bike, but also my spirit. Bad wind is the worst thing I've come across so far on this trip, and all I wish for is that it will end soon. It feels like every metre forward is a struggle against the forces of nature, which are impelling me to just give up and go home. Arghhh!

I woke up in my little field near Lercara this morning, only to discover that my bicycle's back tyre was completely flat. Eek! No idea how this happened: but since the tyre was fine all day yesterday, I can only assume that it got punctured by some sharp plant or rock, as I was wheeling it through the field yesterday evening. Worse still: when I attempted to change the tyre before setting off, I realised that I was unable to do so — despite having a pump and a spare inner tube, I had no tyre levers, and no spanner that was the correct size for undoing the back bolts (and yes, unfortunately the back tyre is bolts, not quick-release). Talk about a horrible start to the day — flat tyre in the hills of Mafialand, and no means of fixing it. What was I to do?

This afternoon I continued riding south, from Caccamo, into the hilly region that is the traditional Mafia heartland of Sicily. One town in particular — a place called Roccapalumba — gave me very bad vibes when I rode through it. Normally, the locals here in Sicily are quite friendly: but not around here. Everyone in Roccapalumba was giving me harsh, unfriendly, suspicious stares as I whizzed through their town; made me feel very creepy indeed. Lots of funny old men with dirty faces and beady eyes; young dudes on motorbikes with big tattoos on their shoulders; and signs for strange nearby attractions, such as "planetarium observatory". Glad I'm not spending the night here; I only wish it weren't so late in the day, as I'm inevitably not going to make it too far for my evening's rough camping.

Call me a silly cyclist if you will, but it seems that I just can't get enough of these Sicilian mountains: after a (rather aggravating) morning coastal ride, today I'm headed inland again, into the mountains. From Términi Imerese, I rode south up a gruelling mountain road, until I reached the town of Caccamo. This is a quaint little place, which is most famous for its imposing Norman castle, of at least 1,000 years' antiquity. It was a hard slog: but I had a good rest and a big drink when I reached Caccamo; and the castle (although I didn't explore it) is worth at least passing by.

This morning's ride to Geraci Siculo was a bit tough; but after that, the rest of the day was a breeze. Yesterday, I slogged through the long uphill climb into the Nebrodi mountains; and today, all that paid off, because it was a long downhill cruise through the neighbouring Madonie mountains, and back to the Sicilian north coast. Not only was the rest of the day completely downhill — it was also warm, sunny, and very pleasant scenery-wise. Like the Nebrodi, Le Madonie is also a pristine and protected area of Sicily; and it also boasts rolling farmland, lush forests, and charming mountain towns. I passed through Castelbuono — one such town — at lunchtime today; when I sat down at a cafe on the main drag there, one of the locals was even generous enough to buy me an espresso! Nothing like some warm, rural Sicilian hospitality, eh?

For this morning's ride, I left my field near Gangi bright and early, and rode west through the town of Gangi, continuing on until I reached the turnoff north into the Madonie mountains. From here, it was only a short ride to the mountain town of Geraci Siculo, where I found a lovely (albeit mostly ruined) hilltop castello ("castle") to explore. It was a tough ride to Geraci Siculo — the weather turned quite cold, and it got a bit rainy, plus there were quite a few minor uphill sections — but when I got there, I was rewarded with great scenic views, a quaint village atmosphere, and a bar that served an excellent hot chocolate for the morning break. Plus, after reaching the town, the weather improved, and it was all downhill riding.

After a pleasant afternoon's ride — through the western edge of the Monti Nebrodi — I found a vacant little field just off the main highway, and I set up camp in it for the night. I could have camped in any one of a hundred such suitable spots — in this neck of the woods, they're in abundance — but I'm quite happy with the spot I chose. It's surrounded by farms and farmhouses: but my little patch appears to be unclaimed by any of its neighbours; and nobody bothered me during the night. Plus, it affords a gorgeous view of the stars overhead, of the countryside all around, and of the hilltop town of Gangi just ahead of me. Apart from being a little bit chilly, this high up in the mountains, it seems that I've stumbled across an excellent place for camping it rough.

When I started this Great Sicilian Ride of mine, I wasn't expecting much of the roads. I know that Europe in general is known for its great roads: but southern Italy is reputed to have much worse infrastructure than other areas further north; and Sicily is a far south as you can go. Well, to my pleasant surprise, the infrastructure has so far easily exceeded my modest expectations: Sicilian roads rock! Even in the remote mountain areas, the roads are smoothly sealed; they're seldom too steep; they're often banked; and they're generally very well signposted. All I can say is: well done, guys; how do you do it, and how can we make Aussie roads this good? And if this is an example of poorer European roads, then what the hell kind of seventh-heaven roads can I find further north?!