Cycling
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Travelogue on Northern lakes of Italy
Coming to the Easter break, I decided that something had to be done with the ten days and spending the entire stretch inside my attic didn’t seem to be a good idea. It was decided to check out the Northern lakes of Italy. There were two of them in the list, Como and Maggiore. The deciding factors were ticket prices and weather forecast.
It was sulky weather everywhere in Italy that weekend. The only hopeful one seemed to be places surrounding Lake Maggiore where weather websites foretold the probability of precipitation to be just 20% which was better compared to 40-60% in Como.
Saturday morning. Turin was drenched in a steady drizzle from the previous day. Fine mist of a rain it was. Cars sped past with headlights peering into the fading misty darkness, a hesitant dawn. With merely an hour or so of sleep the night before, I doubted whether I would stay away during the journey. So we started off, 3 with one trailing behind from Porta Nuova at about 7 in the morning.
At Novara, where we had to change the train, rain displayed no signs of receding. Everything was damp, cold and gloomy. The journey from Novara to Arona was humdrum, with the sights of the northern villages and patches of desolate deciduous woods, which assume a depressing appearance in winter.
I must confess that despite my often declared dislike for the country, south of India still lives somewhere inside me, making me acutely aware of its influence on occasions like these. The train journeys back home, lashing merciless rains that seep in through the imperfect pull down shutters of rail coaches, one glass shutter and one metal shutter, the sight of swaying dark green foliage desperately fighting rain and thunderstorm. A bedlam of sounds from hawking cries of tea, raindrops pelleting train’s roof to the steady rhythm of sound made by metal wheels on metal rail.
A friend had commented long back, “It’s the inherent craving for chaos that lives inside Indians”. The lake started being visible by the time our train reached Arona. Blanketed with a heavy mist and the steady rain, it was just a part of the shore that we could figure out through the blurry windows.
It was not a crowded station. We ventured out braving the rain. Lake stretched before us, mild mist letting only a hazy view of its banks on the other side. There was a friendly girl at the local tourism office near the train station who suggested us to try the place Stressa if we wanted more stay options. Stresa too was on the shores of Lake Maggiore, and was about 20 minutes drive from Arona. She suggested that we take the bus instead of the train, which offered a better view and cost just about €2.5.
Wandering around Arona in the rain to pass time till our bus to Stresa started, froze the last bit of warmth out of me and that’s when I discovered the Italian magic portion that goes by the name of “Café Correto”. It is a normal espresso coffee spiced up with a shot of a grape based pomace brandy called grappa. As far as my taste was concerned, it was an agonizing drink to consume, but the moment it gets inside, you start thanking your stars for having discovered it. Strong coffee kills sleep, perking you up and grappa shoots heat into every cell of the body.
Journey in the bus was fascinating especially with just three of us as passengers. Meandering roads traced the shoreline of Maggiore which was still enveloped by mist. Bus sped past buildings along the shore most of which had piers and a couple of boats tied to them. It dropped us at the ferry point of Stresa. There was a trackless sightseeing train that took people on a city tour which I wanted to try out but had to give in to the group plan to go to the islands first by boat.
As we walked to the boats, a tall guy in a uniform (with a fancy naval cap) approached us and sternly asked us whether we were planning to go to the islands as there was a boat leaving in five minutes. Before we could agree upon it, he hurried off and directed us to follow him which we did, like a bunch of school kids. From a desk placed in a hole in the wall type structure, he tore down three tickets and demanded €60 (€20 each) for two islands. We obediently complied and he set us scuttling off to a boat which we promptly boarded. All this happened in about 5 minutes and by the time we realized that he made jackasses out of us, our boat was already on its way to the islands.
There were many operators and this boat was just one of them. It was not like the last boat to the islands. And cost of the ride was €18 but the guy had impressively managed to beat us off €2 each. I did, however, admire the way he did it. Maybe he had a whole repertoire of strategies from which he picked up one titled “authoritarian” and tried on us. And it worked.
The gloom of this setback was somewhat subdued with sight of our first island. Apparently, these islands, referred together as Borromean Islands, comprises of three small ones and two islets. Among these, we were to visit only Isola dei Pescatoriand Isola Bella as our €20 only covered them.
Isola dei Pescatori, which we stepped on first was a fishing island with a permanent population. It had beautiful narrow cobbled streets albeit being sandwiched by too many stalls selling fancy stuff to tourists. By dusk, we returned to Stresa and having nothing much to do, hunted around for a reasonable Bread and Breakfast place. We finally fixed on one run by an old lady somewhat a bit away from the main road and got out after a much needed nap to roam around the place in the night.
It was here that I saw the moon in its most outrageous size. Huge, yellow and spotted, it resembled a roughly cut lump of cheese illuminated by a dim bulb. But that was really a great night, walking aimlessly though the shores of Maggiorewith that huge yellow moon above, the sprawling lake beside and the snow capped Alps beyond.
About Author:
I am a lawyer by profession who has quit practicing law and presently engaged in teaching. Being a rolling stone, I keep drifting around focusing more on travelling and less on being riveted to any place. I save enough money every year to do a bit of mountaineering in the summer. I am passionate about mountaineering. I do a lot of climbing around Gharwal Himalayas. Love testing hi altitude gear. Last year, I tested a basic 2K Quechua tent high on Gharwal Himalayas in blizzard. I travel a lot. I also do a little bit of mountain biking. I have explored Ketam Mountain Biking Park (Singapore) just a month back. I am also a mechanical gadget freak. I love fixing mechanical things. This includes a long list of things from alarm clocks to cars. I collect outdated gadgets, mechanical and electronic. I read a lot, especially surreal stuff like Murakami.
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Cycling in the midst of rain
It was in the evening of 11th July 2015, when my team - Team R4, decided to embark on a cycling trip of Delhi India Gate. We packed all essential items that we might require for next day's ride. The check list comprised of extra tubes, pumps, bags, cycling dress, helmets, bicycle's front lights, back safety lights, biscuits, water bottles, water bags, chocolates for energy during the ride. We are happy to be able to arrange an exhaustive list of materials in a short time which will help us to manage the ride without being worried at any point.
Next, was the most tedious task to “convince the family members for a rainy day ride on N.H.8, from Rewari to Delhi." By the grace of God, family members gave their consent for the ride, but handed over a long list of do’s and don’ts – for ex., we wouldn't do fast cycling, will wear helmets always, do not switch off our mobile phones (we packed those in polythene bags so that it does not come in contact with water).
We started our journey from Rewari (Haryana) on 12th July 2015, at 5.00 am. We sang old songs however followed all traffic rules on our way to reach Delhi at around 9.40 am. It was a rainy day, and we all were wet, roads too were slippery which forced us to ride slowly and carefully. On a regular sunny day we would have travelled additional 100 kilometers in 3.15 hours. We all were enjoying the ride thoroughly; breaking away from daily chores of mundane life. We all were looking charming and to make the time standstill we clicked some “selfie” in front of the India Gate.
After reaching India Gate, we went to Shri Bangla Sahib Guru Dwara to offer prayers (Mattha Tekhna). We did not go inside the darbar because of time crunch. We moved further to attend RahGiri at Connaught Palace and went further to India Gate and Rashtrapati Bhawan. We took a joy ride there with Delhi Cyclist Friends. It was raining incessantly and we were enjoying it to the fullest. Around 12.00 noon, the funniest moment, when our dear friend Abhi forgot to take a snap of our unknown Delhi Friend while he was making a pose in front of India Gate.
We started our ride back to Rewari (Haryana) which is 90 kms from Delhi. We took our breakfast / lunch during our travel on a Prantha Shop. Incidentally, my friend Sachin faced a puncture in his bicycle tyre. Fortunately, we had a kit with extra tyres, tubes and pumps, so we were able to replace and solve the problem. We installed the wheel in bicycle and began our journey. Around 4.30 pm we reached Rewari (Haryana).
It was a fun filled ride, teammates who took part in this ride are as follows:
Aashish Sachdeva, Lalit Mehndiratta, Sachin Soni, Abhishek Sharma, Anil Thakral, and Me: Manoj Kalra, Even today (after 6 months) I miss the joy of this ride. It will remain with us as a fond memory. We would like to go again with the same team, which always Rocks, YES, the Team R4 always Rocks. Team R4 (Rewari Royal Riders & Runners), we do cycling, running and gym for our fitness.
About Author:
My profession: I am a Computer Designer, Offset Printers, We print wedding cards and all kinds of office stationery. I am passionate about: Cycling, Running, Fitness activities (A fitness freak)
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