Pavement, pistol shots, prostitutes and Pisa

I know, kind of a wild title but that was the day.

Having had to take the train to Roomaggiore, because the road was closed, made it easier to decide to take the train from Riomaggiore, because the road was flippin' steep to get us up and over on our way further alog the coast. It also allowed us some time to walk around one last time before we set out. The cool thing being that, at the early hour of 0800, it's just the locals in-the-know getting the best selection of vegetables, the warmest bread, and just cleaned fish that one can't come by later in the day. Not too many tourists out yet. U.S. And a few others.

So we caught the train--without the craziness of the first time--we're getting to be old hats. And after that, the road to Pisa was mostly just riding on a smaller highway, often along the waterfront strip, strangely quiet after our busy Easter week time further north. The cycling didn't afford much photo taking but we did manage a little touché when a some walkers started into the crosswalk--Paul hit the brakes and Alaine hit Paul before hitting the pavement. From Paul's point of view it looked pretty bad but Alaine, being stronger than she looks, got up with only a few abrasions and nothing that bled a lot. "Ba Bene" she sort of said. To boot, a very nice passerby showed up with some ice and a bottle of water. A fresco , she said, when Alaine pointed out she already had some. At least there were no broken ribs this time (!) and Alaine was able to continue on.

The last 10k or so to Pisa was along a stretch of highway with little or no shoulder so it was a bit uncomfortable cycling. As we neared Pisa, we could hear many shots coming from a nearby firing range, at least we hoped it was a firing range and not some Whatcom County yahoos firing their high powered riffles across the river. But I digress. Then there were a couple of prostitues waiting at the intermittent pull-outs along the highway--it just didn't seem right when you're on the road to Pisa. 

But then there was Pisa, at least after we got our camp all situated. In the fading light of sundown, the baptistery, the cathedral and the tower were all illuminated and bright in their unusually white marbled stone. 

Looking back at the coast 

Holy moley... Alaine kept saying. The Appenine range...

It doesn't look as bad as the crash looked...

Sorry... Somehow it's not leaning here.