After San Gigminagno we took a lovely ride towards Cortona, stopping after 70kms or so to catch a train the rest of the way. We were due to stay with Gabriel, a photojournalist who lived just north of the town. Again, as with Simon and Marion in Marseille, we were extremely lucky to find such a kind and easy going host. We had planned to stay a couple of days but because of Bridget's knee and Gabriel's insistence we could stay as long as we needed we lodged with him for 5 days. It was great to stay with someone so relaxed who invited friends around to meet us, allowed us to cook for him and took us out for a quiet drink in his home town. We didn't do a great deal of sightseeing, visiting Cortona (which we liked) and cycling to a lake 40kms south - with unladen bikes to test Bridget's knee. We did though have a really relaxing time which allowed our bodies to recover and though reluctant to leave set out in high spirits to Rome.
The morning and some of the afternoon was great. We were in good spirits, Bridget's knee was behaving and the countryside was spectacular. But oh how things can change in but a moment. We were cruising down hill through a long but quite fast tunnel when my chain came off. No alarm at first, I simply stopped and put in back on again. But when I started cycling I realised something was drastically wrong. At first it was difficult to work out what but soon it was clear that every time I wanted to freewheel the chain caught up in the back mech and threatened to wipe out my back wheel.
I pulled over, trying desperately to remember from my maintenance course how the set up worked. Had I remembered properly I would never have taken the cassette off and dismantled the axle. It wasn't until then that I realised the free wheel hub couldn't be taken apart (and a that point I didn't even remember that it could be taken off and replaced, thinking dark thoughts about needing a whole new hub and wheelbuild). Once I realised there was nothing I could do it was a case of putting the wheel back together and reloading the bike so we could at least try to get somewhere for the night (it was now about half seven and the sun had well and truly set and we were thinking we have to pitch the tent there and then by the side of the road).
Now it couldn't have happened in a more picturesque place or anywhere more inconvenient. We were miles away from anywhere. In the end I had to push the bike back up the tunnel and then freelwheel with my legs off the pedals to they could spin round freely down the other side of the hill about 5 kms to a motel which was technically still closed for the off season but very kindly let us rent a room anyway. The staff were delightful and tried so hard to help us - a stark contrast to the attitude we were later to face in Rome at a number of bike shops as we tried desperately to get it mended.
The next day we stuck our thumbs out but as you might expect it's not easy scrounging a lift for two people with two bikes and all the gear they are carrying. Luckily an English couple (Barnie and Susie if you read this a huge huge thank you) who had just moved to Italy for a new life (victims of the recession back home) stopped and went miles out of their way to take us to the nearest train station. It was a tight fit even in their smallish people carrier but we made it and managed to catch a train quite easily to Rome and then out again to Lake Bracciano. Getting fully loaded bikes on and off Italian trains is actually much harder than cycling them - many have really steep steps even up to the luggage van and even two people struggle to get them on board. We made it though and found a lovely campsite and had it not been for the circumstances would have thought how lucky we were.
We ended up staying in Bracciano two weeks. By the end we were desperate to leave. There was absolutely nothing wrong with the camp site, in fact the owners were extremely kind and helpful. We were just frustrated (mainly me to be honest as Bridget was far more philosophical) at our total inability to get my bike mended. Shops in Rome were either unable or unwilling (the language barrier makes it difficult to know which) to help. Even Thorne, from where we bought the bikes which are still well and truly under warranty seemed difficult and unwilling initially to help in any other way than offer pretty obvious advice and some sympathetic doses of "understanding". It seemed they felt it was all part and parcel of the touring experience and to quote a sketch from Not The Nine O'Clock News "nothing to do with them". They did finally agree to send the spare part we needed to mend the bike but insisted on it being delivered by Parcelforce as all the other courier services were "unreliable" (a brief summary of a five minute tirade by the sales rep on the other end of the phone in response to our request to have the part fedexed to us overnight).
Then to make matters worse Parcelforce proved just how reliable they were by sending the parcel to Germany rather than Italy. It was sent on Wednesday and didn't arrive for a week. Had it arrived Thursday or Friday as it should have done we would have been able to get the bike mended before Sunday when absolutely everything shuts. It couldn't be delivered on the Monday or Tuesday because of a national holiday and with no Saturday deliveries we were looking at the following Wednesday and no chance of leaving before Thursday. As it turned out leaving on Thursday would have been brilliant.
In a way it soon became a comedy of errors. When we had initially been traipsing around all the bike shops in Rome asking if they could mend the wheel, one of them kindly told us they could help. They said to leave it with them and they would ring us at the end of the day, either to tell us to come and collect it then or to come back tomorrow. By six that night they hadn't rung so we decided to pop in to check on our way home. With no more than a shrug and no explanation they simply handed the wheel back to us and told us they couldn't help us after all. We were annoyed they hadn't rung as we could have traipsed back the next day for no reason but our annoyance then was nothing compared to our extreme frustration when we later discovered (after our spare part had arrived finally from the UK) that their technician had taken the hub and axle apart and then failed to give us back all the parts. (As they were in a plastic bag we only noticed when we took the wheel somewhere else to be mended) When we returned to the shop in Rome to explain this, to see if they had the bits they had lost and whether they could put it all back together for us, they went, as only it seems indignant Italians can, apoplectic,refusing to even talk to us any further about how to get it mended.
In the end to cut a long and expensive story short we had to buy a whole new hub, have if couriered overnight (this time successfully) to us at our campsite and then ask another bike shop - not in Rome - to put in all back together which they very kindly did, charging an extremely nominal fee. So two weeks of frustration and we were back on the road again - a four day cycle to Sorrento on the Amalfi peninsula. It was such a good feeling to be back on the bikes and the past two weeks melted into the beautiful countryside and fantastic weather.
Now during the whole process I vented some of my frustrations on Facebook. And it wasn't long before friends sent me messages giving me their take on the situation. They rightly reminded me it was better to be stuck at a campsite on a beautiful lake just outside Rome than say in Coventry. Of course with these sentiments I wholeheartedly agree. But knowing that did nothing sadly to help control my frustration that we were stuck somewhere - no matter how nice - we didn't want to be, with time ticking away before we absolutely had to be in Florence and all because one company didn't seem to care enough to take their after sales service seriously and another company couldn't tell the difference between Italy and Germany. Rome is a beautiful city (when it's not full of Man United fans) and not a bad place to be but that's as a tourist not an Englishman with no Italian trying to find a bike shop willing to help. I see it like visiting the Louvre and being forced to sit in front of the Mona Lisa all day rather than take a look at any of the other paintings.
I know rants aren't always helpful but they can be cathartic. My turns on Facebook could be seen as a form of online therapy or cyber yoga. My thoughts were also a toned down version of what I wanted to write. So don't get me wrong. I still fully appreciate how fortunate I was to be where I was and to be doing what I am doing but at tthe ime I needed to be angry, pissed off and to let off steam. As Mandy would tell me, men like to be able to solve problems whether it be their own or their partners and when they can't they are not very good and accepting the situation. I know the sermon but always struggle to act on it. I am travelling for a year but that's not like going on holiday for twelve months I promise. And that means sometimes it matters not one jot where you are, no matter how beautiful.
(PS Pictures are from our day trip to Siena, have nothing to do with the story and are simply there to stop you dying from boredom!)