Well, as nice as it is we can’t just hang around Crema any more. We’ll never get to Rome that way. Time to break camp and head west up the Po Valley. First though, let’s have another crack at making it through the front door of our inn.
In case you didn’t already have plenty of evidence of what a thick-headed study I am, here’s more: in three days here I hit my head three times passing through the five foot door of our inn.
Our destination for the day, Pavia, takes us another step upriver and inches us closer to the hills. The Po is a vast expanse though, so once again we have a virtually flat ride. Like the last two days though, it’s not without interest.
It’s grey and cold when we start biking and I’m envisioning a pretty dreich and drowsy* ride. Not so though. Within about a half hour the sky starts opening up, the sun breaks through, and it turns into quite a pretty day to ride.
RideWithGPS failed us again, claiming this part of the ride would be paved. Wrong on that point. Also probably wrong in claiming we should even be here, on a road that was listed as private. We were happy to get across without encountering anyone.
Back on pavement and public land again, we come to one of the more interesting sights of the day: Abbadio Cerreto, where a wedding party is assembling.
While Rachael visited the local store to pick up some cheese to supplement today’s lunch, I took a quick peek inside the thousand year old abbey before the wedding crowd moved in.
A few miles past the abbey we cross the Adda and come to Lodi, a town larger than I’d imagined and a rather irritating one to cycle through. I remember that in some pencil-sketches for this tour I considered staying over in Lodi, but I’m so glad we landed on Crema instead.
I wasn’t inspired to stop with the camera in Lodi, concentrating too much on weaving our way through its narrow, rough spaces filled with peds and bikers; but the video gives you a charming look at a father and daughter pushing along her bicycle together - it’s one of those times that having a video you can command to attention while you bike is so much more effective.
Beyond Lodi though we’re back in the open fields again, enjoying the warmth of the now nearly fully sunny day.
Returning from the hunt. Seconds later these dogs alarmed me when all five started racing down the road after Rachael as a pack, until their master fortunately whistled them back. She was far enough off that she was oblivious to the dire threat behind her.
I forget what village we finally broke at for lunch, finding a nice bench in the sun to break out the pecorino Rachael had scored earlier. The ride had been feeling warmish for the last hour, but as soon as we stop it’s surprising how chilly it feels in the wind. Somehow we hadn’t noticed that we were benefitting by a tailwind that has built to about 10 mph.
At our lunch stop, Rachael was startled by a man who looked out the window and opened up a conversation with her. It looks like a confessional scene, but it was a very friendly conversation.
The real highlight of the day comes when we see a large gathering of white wading birds not far off from the road. At first glance it looks like an egret convention, then we see that it’s even more exciting than that. Storks! And ibises!!
I couldn’t figure out what this cluster was until zooming in with the camera; and even then I wasn’t sure. Ibises from the curved beaks of course, but what’s the species?
Bill ShaneyfeltAlmost answered the question, but then looked at the next picture... I now notice you do this occasionally. Reply to this comment 2 years ago
We’ve only seen the African sacred ibis before in Taiwan, of all places - but over the last ten or fifteen years they’re starting to get well established in northern Italy. A beautiful species.
Video sound track: Il Regato Piu Grande, by Tiziano Ferro
So that’s enough excitement to carry us the rest of the way to Pavia, which we arrive in at about 2:30. Pavia is a letdown though, making a poor first impression as we ride through its crowded streets, dense with cars, walkers and bikers. No one is able to move fast at all, and you’re continually looking for breaks in the flow that seem to close up as soon as you move toward them, all while taking care not to take a tumble on the smooth, rounded cobblestones. For about fifteen blocks we hardly move faster than walking speed.
We go out again a few hours later for a look about town before dinner, and find that our second impression of Pavia isn’t much better than the first. I’m sure it’s because it’s Saturday afternoon, but the crowds are awful and oppressive - the busiest place we’ve seen since leaving Antwerp.
Our third take though, walking back to our hotel after dinner and after the streets have largely emptied out, is much more positive. I doubt we’ll find our way back here, but for the first time I can see the possibilities.
Pavia’s most attractive feature is its oldish bridge across the Ticino. Only oldish, because it was built to replace the truly old bridge that was destroyed in World War Two.
On the bridge. Both sides were lined with young folks sitting on the walls, seemingly unconcerned by the river rushing a hundred feet below behind their backs.
This photo is misleading, suggesting that the bridge is pedestrianized. It’s not. Buses and cars make it through, slowly. Pavia hasn’t quite figured out that pedestrianization thing yet.
