So, it stopped raining, and I got on the road.Noodled out of Novi Ligure through a series of small towns and nebulous localities, say 'em all together and it sounds like an Italian race commentary.
(Yesterday at the Museo di Campionissimi I watched a vid of the 2002 Milan-San Remo. Out of the last corner its 'Cipollini...Cipollini...Cipollini...Cipollini Vince! ...CipolliniCipolliniCipollini', though my favourite is of Michele Dancelli winning in '70.
After 16 years of foreign winners, Dancelli cries unashamedly while the ever-pragmatic Ernesto Colnago jams a fresh Molteni cap on his head.
You know you're getting close to Castellania by the gradient, and I think it proper to attack it, rather than ride like the tourist I am, but today I was interrupted by the need to photograph some road graffiti, and then by a text from CTB, who was out on the town.
Despite arriving on the right day, I had not arrived at the correct hour for the Casa Coppi to be open, but fortunately the town was festooned with banner sized photos of Coppi on almost every vertical surface.
While looking at these I met an old geezer who took me in hand, showed me the secret stash of Coppi memorabilia and gave me a bundle of Fausto Coppi postcards.
With midday approaching I took myself to the top of the hill to kill a bit of time, then back to the local restaurant for a fabulous lunch.
By 2pm, with no sign of the Casa ever opening, I took myself back to Novi Ligure, to venture out in search of gelato and free wifi.
MORE PHOTOS FROM CASTELLANIA
1 comment:
You utter UTTER bastard!
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