Isile of Capri, Italy 28k 2.5 hrs

I sit eating the freshest salad with 5 kinds of greens, fresh cubed cheese, the ripest cherry tomotoes, grilled chicken, drizzled in balsamic dressing.My afternnon lunch ispaired with the best bread and freshly squeezed iced lemon juice that I must sweeten to drink. I must also mention that I sit at a little table, sunning in my bathing suit. I look to my left and I see the bluest water that crashes against the rock leveled beach that is visited by only a handfull of other individuals tring to get away from the tourist section of the island. THere is the most beautifyl lighthouse that scales hundres of feettall. As many places in ITaly that I have traveled in the past, the color of every flower temps me to dismount my bicycle and snap a picture in hopes to preserve the beauty that brings me happiness. Emperor TIberius had himeslf a garden of eden of the sea.

I think to my self I am very happy that I brought my bicycle, becuase If I did not I would of never found this beach that is generally tucked hidden away but only populated with locals and a few tourists that are brave enough to rent a car for the island.

I got off the fairy this morning and decided to again scale the sea side mountain cliffs that are lined with little steep roads. I find that only portions of the island are accessable by car or bike. This is the Anacapri, the eastern side of the island. I ride to 3 corners of the island that each take me down 4-5k to the sea ending roads... then back up again to the mountain top villages.

My day in Capri ends too quickly, and I must head to Napoli to catch my train that will take me to Venezia... the italian town that we all have dreamed about were you are kissed as you pass under bridges that can get you over the streets of water. WEll... I htink most women have thought about this at one point or another.

AMore Katelyn

The coast line ride, Posetono to Pompei, Almaphie Cost Italy 3.5 hrrs 45k

The traffic will be slower today. Just to be extra cautious, I choose a route along the almaphie costline that will be less congested with traffic. I find myself winding up the usual switch backs that are 10-13 percent grade. I would rather not know this but I am wanned with big yellow signs. I have just realized that due to all my mountain descending, I will need new break pads before I go to the Sierra Nevadas in Spain (yes they are in the us too) with one of the highest mountain climb in WEstern Europe.

Lemon groves are terraced in the mountain hill side. Slight haze hides the clarity of the blue horizon. Dozens of cyclists are out toady, I pass a few pro teams. It is funny to see them react as I crews right by them on a climb or match their descent.I must mention that in the weeks I have been here, I have see hundreds of cyclists and not one has been female. I do not know why and I hope not to sterotype. But I have been told by itallian and spanish men, that women is spain or italy do not do this...ride the bike. They go shopping and wear the fancy clothes... and do the hair.. and go to the beach.. and go to the club.... and laa lala....and they always say this mocking a women walking, making little funny faces, and waving their hands making little noices. Yes they make more sound effects,faces, voices, and wave their hands more than I do. Generally they do not understand why I would come all the way fromUS to cycle. They wold rather come to the US. I guess human beings tend to not be happy where they are and always want more. Realizing this, it has made me ashamed that I am learning more about a foreign culture than what I know about my very own heritage and country. THis will cahnge when I get back.

I reach Pompei, the ancient ramins that have perfectly preserved a horror of a village that so long ago losts its existance due to ash and lava. To view these wonders, it will only cost me 20 euros or so... I decide that the outside ruins, viewed behind the fences from the street will be just fine for me. Besides I caught the discovery channel special on this a few months ago.

I return to Posetono by train and head to the beach for another end to a perfet itallian day.

OH YA.. I have been enjoying all bikes in Europe

The Italian Vacation Destination, Positano, Alamphie cost

If you ask an Italian where they would go on vacation, they say the almaphie cost. Positano, a little village on the sea, if more beuatiful than what I have already seen. It is different, so I cannot say that it is more beuatiful than tuscany or any other part, but it is beautiful. I will have another weekend with my two favorite things-the sea-the mountains.
TOday I am tired. It is Saturday and the roads along the coast are busy with winding cliff roads that are packed with itallian motorcycles, tour buses, and mini cars. I have never seen more dangerous roads. Switchbacks, 90 degree turns, buses and trucks blast their horns before entering each turn, and blind corners that are only wide enough for one bus. I can imagine the view I will miss today, but there is tomorrow, with less traffic. I am not in the mood for motorcycles speeding,horns blaring, and itallians hanging out the car windows saying god know what. I need a relaxing say at the beach.

I lay on the smoothed rock beach with speckles of emerald green, amber, and electric blue glass that has been softened with time. Rugged layered clifs are lined with sugar cube houses that over look the sea. A mix of italians and tourists relax on the beach. Naked children throw the black beach, lovers embrace, and hand fulls of packed itallian men try to get the attention of this tennesse girl that does not want to be bothered.

I decide to go on a boat ride, The itallians call this the rubber boat. It it the perfect palce to see the cliff lined naked beaches with the bluest water, hidden caves, and just beautiful.

AS I return to my home for the day, I pass a local man that makes sandels. HUndreds of styles, colors, shapes that I can choose from. THey make a pair to fit my little fat feet perfrect.
RElaxed, shoe happy, a little burnt, and maybe a little too tipsy, I end the day reflecting on how happy this gal can get.

Amore, Katelyn

Rome in a day, But first a last Tuscun Ride 30 km 1.5 hrs

I have to leave my tuscany today. One more ride this morning, just one more. I feel at home at the Bassetto. In my mind I have already lived here. Know what it would be like to wake up in the morning, go for a ride, then off to the market to buy fresh food for the day, take a nap on the hammok, and then join the family for a large late meal... and hopefully learn Itallian. I guess I have have been day dreaming a little, wich can be very dangerous on a bike ride to be in la-la land for major portions of the journey. An offer by the oweners have sparked this idea in my head. My own room in this gorgeous place, free wireless, cash for taking guest on bicycle tours, and all I have to do is clean the kitchen, change the sheets, and ride my bike. Yes the perfect quiet place to write a dissertation.It is very tempting, but giving up the chance for a perfect job in the states would be crazy... I guess I will see if they offer me the position, if not I will be back to my Tuscany.

So yes, Rome in a day. Most people think I am crazy. Especially the Itallians.
they say... YOU AMERICAN ALWAYS RUSH AND WANT TO SEE TOO MUCH. I am not rushing, actaully I have been the oppisit, truthfully all I would want to see in Rome, I can do in a day. I rather be on my bike in the country side.

I awake early in Rome with hopes to beat the crowds. The plan takes me to the colosseo, you know where the gladiators use to play. As I emerge from the underground metro, I am taken back by the enormous size of the crumbling structure. Ancient bricks were diligently laid to form the house of games for ancient roman spectators. Cobbled streets circle and as I walk I can begin to imagine the sounds of the crowds chanting and cheering the gladiators to victory.

As I begin to wander down the street throught the roman gardens I pass by dozens of caged remains of ancient buildings that now house pigeons and cats.

I find the ancient ruins of history class.. and what can I possible say to describe them. I am in Saint Peters square. I stand before the alpha of christianity.I am overwhelmed with the crowds, traffic, the noise, and cameras.

I have had enough and can see more and moreI am not a city girl afterall. I miss my Tuscany. So I did see Rome in a day and it ended with the best gelato ever.

Amore, Katelyn

The perfect Ride,Centaldo to Siena,Tuscany 40 km and 2 hrs

Tuscany is a as beautiful as all the pictures you have seen. Numerous hughs of green span to form the blue green of the olive trees to the yellow green of spring grass. This is the back drop of my adventure to Siena on my bicycle.

As I ride the hills of the tuscun counryside, I become memorizing due to their pattens of verticle and horizontal fields of vinyards and olive groves.

Each patch of land has endless rows of tuscun treasures with cypress trees speratically placed to add depth and protection.

Flowers of every color appear as I turn each cornor. I question if the next bend will bring even greater views of the gorgeous flora. Every shade of red, tellow, orange, blue, purple, green can be found on my ride.

I am reminded of God's amazing creation as I realize where I am. It also helps to be reminded by the numerous monumnets to the virgin Marry that are placed at many of the road intersections, entrances to vinyards-churches-and homes.

I reach Monteriggioni, a present day castle from the 13th century. The defence bulwark was built as a round circle that "crowns herself with towers". Inside I find cobble stone pathways leading to cellar shops.For a moment i try to pretend what it may be like to live during this time inside these grand stone walls overlooking the countryside.

Siena, if you could imagine is a great midevil city perched a hill top, surrounded by great stone walls and towers. As I wind up to cobbled road pathways, moden day clothing stores, resturants, internet cafe's, apartments replace what was once midevil butcher shops, fresh markets, and stables.

I pass a hair salon and decide my hair is needing a cut. I am approached by my stylist, a young tall itallian man that speaks little english. We look at pictures and I point and he nods. I end up with the best haircut i have ever had. I would of paid just 15 euros fro the itallian hair cut experience. I continue the evening and end the night wandering throught the narrow alleys of Siena ...ending another day of happiness.

Amore, kb

The belly button of Tuscany, Certaldo Italy 35k, 2hrs

I awake from the sun making warmth on my face. I rock slightly back and forth as the wind slightly touches my hamock.
I have to remember where I am. Centerno, Italy. Not Tennessee. Not Wyoming, but in a hamock in the afternoon awaking from a nap in the tuscan country side.

I awoke as I pleased and had no real agenda for the day except to be back from my ride at 11am. I am having my first tuscan cooking class that was arranged by the owners of the Fattoria Bassetto, my guest house for 3 day.

It is a picture-esk place that I have fallen in love with. I am told by the owners that portions of his home was first built as a monistary. There are multiple cobbled buildings with portions covered in patches of pastel coved plaster. The Bassetto was also at one time the 2nd largest winery in Italy, a tabacco farm, and now a guest house for travelers looking for a real tuscan holiday .

Multiple two stoy buildings with florescent colored shutters and tile layered roofs tell the stories from time before. The multiple gardend seem to tell the perfect tuscun tale with lemon trees, vines scaling every verticle structure, rainbow pots of flowers, and quant sitting areas placed strategically around the property.

Well about the cooking class......

GiuseppinmPizzalato, a professional chef and local Certaldoan (that is also going to be on David Letterman very soon), invites people into her home for a three hour cooking lesson for 30 euros. This includes wine tasting, sampling of her home made jams, cheese, and instruction (and some good eatin) on how to cook bruscetta, teramisu, and rissoto. Dressed to cook in our aprons and chef hats, myself and 6 other guests shared an intiment afternoon eating, drinking and sharing stories in english, with portions translated in Itallian.

Passionate about her profession, Giuseppina relates with enthusiasm about her home, her food, and her people. She shares the history of the famous Certaldo red onion that was made known by the midevil pilgrims that would treck from rome to notrthern spain.

As she cooks she smells and tasts the food as if it were the first time she has ever experienced these traditional tuscan dishes.Three hours go by quickly and I find that a nap in the tuscun countryside would be a perfect end to one of the best afternoons ever in my life.
Amore, K

Mountains of Cinque Terre, Parco Nationale Delle Cinque Terre 50 km , 3hrs

I sit exausted on the train. Just finishing my ride, I eat a egg plant and mozerella sandwich purchased at the local Mc Donalds. I reflect on the amazing day I had of riding.

I did not bother to set the alarm this morning . The local roosters and church bells have awaken me at 5:30 am every morning. I arrise and set off to explre the costal highway that follows the sea. It is about 1,00 ft above the train that i trecked the day before. I climp out of Ricconnie winding up the painful verticle streets. I can feel my muscles ache due to my hike yesterday. I decide to do the technical sea costal highway. I think to myself that I was wrong yesterday, and determine that this is the hardest climb I have ever done. I wind up the mountain switchbacks that overlook the sea. I have to remind myself at times to focus on the road and limit my glances to the horizon. The beauty from this high above is different than the day before. The sea side villages that I trecked through look miles away. The green of the forest on the mountains that I ride over feels like a different place.




After 45 minutes and 20km of climbing, I remember that I do not like switch backs but this thought soon leaves me as I begin to descend down the mountain pass that I just climbed. Chills overcome my body, the excitement of speed is my high. I lean my bike over as I hug the sharp curves. I concentrate on the goal of holding a clean line so I do not end up running off the highway. I must continue inward dipping into the back side of the mountain that I summited. I ride into a fimilar place, lush green woods are flowered with cherry blossoms. The trees grow above me and close together to form a canopy. The cherry blossom flowers release into the wind and brush my face with kisses. I must pinch myself to remind me that I am not dreaming. Two and a half hours into my ride I stop and ask two policemen the direction of my destination for the day. They spend much time with me and seem entertained by me. Of course I get their picture as they tuck their machine guns behind their back.

I soon find myself to my final destinatin reflecting on an amazing day eating Mc Donals for the first time in 3 years.

Amore,

Katelyn

I found my climbs, LaSpezia to Lerici Italy 60km 3 hrs

I decide to go exploring today. The little town of Rimaggior, Cinque Terra Italy has no bike shops. My hope is to find a shop in La Spezia, a large city about 15 km away. I decide to climb out of the sea and over the moutain to get to the city.

I ask the locals how to get to the city by road. " No bicycle very steep", and they start to laugh. The point to me and say you -no-no- bicycle. I decide to see for myself and I was up for a challenge. The next 15 km was breath taking. No, I am no talking about the views, yes they were beautiful, but the taking of my oxygen to fuel my blood left little for my brain. I climb switch backs that wind up the mountain side.

My normal seated climbing position has become a standing attempt to utalize my body weight to turn the peddles to carry me up the pass. I must say that this climb was the hardest climb than all the mountain passes I have seen in Colorado. The Italians do not waste time with mutiple switch backs to get you to where you need to go in a hurry- they take it italian fast up the mountain. I reach La Spezia and realize the bike shop is closed, so I decide to take my advanture down the coast and see where I end up. I end in Lerci, a beautiful beach town.

Again I am taken with the beauty and the friendliness of the people. I have yet to meet a unfriendly italian. Nevertheless, I must say they are very vocal about me and my "spunkyness". I have been told I am a energy vampire by two gentelmen on a train that started a conversation with me and "very demanding" by an italian gentelmen that own a guest house. What is funny, is that they seem to enjoy me becuase they keep on asking questions and want to show me things. They are proud people. I am tring to hold my excitment down to a minimum- it is very hard for me becuase I am living my dream.

Amore, katelyn

La via dell'amore, Cinque terre, Italy. 5k treck

It is hard for me to begin an attempt at describing the place that I sit. I am perched on a cliff sitting on a stone slab.



My lunch consisting of PB AND J reminds me of home. Behind me, I am surrounded by rugged Mt. Terrain, with dry stone walls holding up terraces of vinyards.

The most impressive horrizon of blue neverending sea gives me a feeling of being so small in a world that has become so numbing at times. I am on my way down a foot path that winds around the cost line through 5 unique villages.

The difficult terrain consisting of exposed cliffs, lose stone, and rock steps keeps me challenged. It is the same path taken by many pilgrims and local followers of Marry to visit places of religious significane and worship. I am told that in the past the pathway that I am taking for recreational purposes was once the only route between the 5 towns.
I imagine how difficult it was to farm on this verticle landscape and trade goods to other villages. Today, motorized carts wind up the terraces to carry the produce.

Nevertheless, if you could see where I sit, you would understand why these people so long ago decided to cultivate this land into a home.


The first portion of my Cinque terre treck is called the la via dell'amore, the path of love. The people have come to the love trail to see the most amazing views. I wish for a moment that I had someone I loved to visit this place with me. Then I realize that through my words to you, I have taken you with me to all the these beautiful places. The people that I care for and love are always with me as I journey for myself.

I coutinue winding around tourist and luckly they begin to bcome scarse as I advance into the second hour of my treck. The path becomes thousands of steps winding up the mountain terraces. My legs begin to ache.

I understand why the crowds have dissapeared. Continuing I come around the corner and see a mass of land extending to a point in the sea. The town has been built reaching out into the sea, three sides touching the water.

I stop for Italian ice cream and enter into a tiny village shop that displays colorful artwork. The women speaking Italian changes to perfect "american" english once she hears my poor attemps of greeting- "Ciao". An american tourist, she fell in love and married the a local man that has painted all the pieces of art that hangs on the shop walls. She told me that she wanted to contribute to her husbands work. The shop " Stories of Italy" displayed her husband's passion and she makes jewely with his artwork. I suppose they have a story that inspired love, art, and family. My story in Italy has just begun so I decide to buy a piece of their "story". It hangs from my neck and will always remind me of all possibilities.

Ciao
KatelyN

Spanish Market Place, Vallencia Spain

I try to find places where the locals do not go. I want to see and experiance what it would be like to live in Spain. Well for today I live in Spain and need to go to the market.
I enter the mosaic tiled building and the smell of fish over powers the room. People shop for their meals that they will prepair for dinner staring at 10pm. They choose between dozens of fresh fruit and vegetable, meat, pastries, and seafood stands. The colors of the sea are laid out before me. Butchers cut fresh meat and I see in Spain they do not spare any part of the animal.

I must say that I enjoy the pastries that are filled with fruit and vegetables. I am not sure what they are called, and if I did I would not know how to spell it... I just call them "puffs with stuff".

I purchase the largest grapes I have ever seen and share strawberries with my new pals from New York. My attemps to find a place where tourist do not go has failed. There are flyers with camers crossed out hanging from many of the booths. I can tell the locals do not necessarly appreciate the tourism industry. I am not the only foreigner that wants to see what is like to live in spain.

Amore,

Katelyn

Spanish Eyes, a reflection

I could not put my finger on it when I was tring to distinguish the difference between the spanish and Itallian people. They generally have very similar features and stature. It was not the hair or skin that is different, but something about the spanish was darker. Was it in their dress? They layered their dark clothing with splashes of color, leather boots or shoes were the norm, large framed glasses with sharp angles rested on their noses, men and women with big designer bags hurried down the steets.The itallians dressed the same way, and have a similar look. Both generally have dark hair and olive skin. My answer became apparent as I stepped off the train to Milan. I approached the customes officer and as he glared at me to determine if my pass port photo was actaully my own, I lost my breath. His breath taking light eyes popped due to the backdrop of his dark complexion.(I guess you can say I am a sucker for a man with dark hair, olive skin, and light eyes)I have relized the difference, the spanish eyes are generally sharp and dark, not only the eye color but the lashes. This must be due to the Arabic ansystery.

Moments later, I then notice the striking hazel hues of a youg woman's eyes as she cried kissing her boy friend goodby.The white of her eyes have become pink and shimmed from her tears. I finally can see how this can be beautiful. I have been told in the past that my eyes look beautiful when I cry. I never understood, but now I do.