“Thousands of tired, nerve-shaken, over-civilized people are beginning to find out going to the mountains is going home; that wilderness is a necessity...” 
― John Muir

(photos to be added)

It was another warm and sunny day as we headed toward Italy via Cannes and then Monaco. Deciding to take the motorway to made up for lost time, and still looking, we crossed the border and the difference between the two countries was immediate. Italy appears to be Frances poorer cousin. Much more run down and dated gives it the appearance of being much older. Of course given the current economic climate here, it´s hardly a surprise. I hope it is the case, as I have always had fond memories of Italy..

From France to Punta Ala.  

 The coast is just as beautiful, but the beaches have become very misused and the property of who ever makes the biggest offer. No free beaches here, and certainly an issue around the small towns and villages along the coast. Without going into too much detail, our first two camping experiences were to say the least, disappointing. However our third night after driving to Punta Ala further down the coast, is a bit better. Two campsites on the beach, one much more expensive than the other, the one we chose, the latter, is huge but very well equipped. We can walk less then 50 metres to the beach and watch the sunset over the Island of Elba, or Isla de Elba.

An Ode to the SunSet

Within the area are a spread of mountain bike trails set down over the years as a result of horse packing, when they transported charcoal from one area to another. It was a reassuring sight when we seen other bikers on the trails, blasting the single track sections on hard-tail 29ers and full suspension rigs. Only recently where the trails host to the Super Enduro, part of a new style of race that is sweeping the globe. It´s a mixture of cross country, downhill and free-riding where you get timed on various sections, but get free time to get from one section to another un-timed.It sounds like fun, but not too pushed as yet to try it out.
But as usual we had to find a map to help with plotting a route each day. As the only one we seen was at the tourist office in the campsite, we only had the option of taking a photo and them hoping for the best on route. Luckily on the first couple of days this was ok as the trails are well marked and we followed them with ease. Great network of nicely packed trails, not to dissimilar to those of Makara Peak in Wellington. I was the most fun we had in ages. No big climbs, just long winding trails with neat berms and the odd small jump thrown into the mix.
After a few hours it was back to the campsite and a coffee to wind down, if you can after a caffeine hit. With the beach only metres away, we quickly got changed, a bite of lunch and them some relaxing on the sandy shores of the Med. Pretty sweet..
In the evenings much time is spend preparing meals and a last trip to the beach to watch the sun retire for another day.
As the mosquitoes become really nasty just before and after dust, we usually hide in the tent and read, but before long the eyes grow weary, lights out..
Keen to venture further afield we looked to the other side of the road where the trails at least doubled in size. Again with no map or sense of which direction they flowed, we headed out, but soon found that we were climbing more than we ought to be. Steeper and steeper they got and more rutted. We had again gone the wrong direction. Next time, no trials without a map or proper GPS co-ordinates.
Ideally this is a great place to hang out, plenty of shade among the tall pines, with the beach on one side and good biking all around, providing you don´t go the wrong way..
It´s four weeks since we hit the road, maybe a bit longer, and it´s strange how quickly you adapt to living out of a van, in a tent and cooking on a camp stove, but, there is great enjoyment to be had in it all. Being so close to the beach for example meant that on awakening, I headed down and sand on the cold sand looking out over the ocean. It was always quiet, and with the sun on my back, it slowly got warmer. Then  back to brew the coffee and kick start the day.. Now that was really nice and on reflection, what life is all about.
Often when on holiday we say to ourselves, how nice it would be to be in a place that is warm, or cold, depending on your holiday, yet we return and slip into our mostly mundane routines. Of course, that´s not always the case, but how nice would it be to keep on living the dream as such?

Anyway... We packed up and hit the road, heading inland and to the hills, once again. Heading toward Pisa, we turned more inland and make our way to Mt Cimone. It´s along way up on steep winding roads, and more famous as a ski resort than a summer destination. But as with many winter ski towns, once summer comes they become the hub for mountain bikers, and hill walkers.
We had doubts though as on the way to here, Sestola, the densely forested steep sloops seem far from what we would want to challenge ourselves on. Yet, once at the top, it opened out to a wide and rolling green hilltop vista.
Bit of a surprise and not what we expected. But the truth will be in the pudding, for as this area boasts many trails for all styles of biking, we will certainly see if that is that is the case..

But for this evening, I need to make a few repaires to the vans interior. The winding roads have dislodged the racks and our stuff is all over the place. We are going to stay in a hotel as it´s too late to look for a campsite, and it will be nice to have a real bed to sleep in.. sweet. That´s if we can find one that is open, not having much luck though..