Cycling along the Amalfi coast

This post comes from a youth hostel in Salerno. We're now five days into our cycling tour of the Amalfi coastline, south of Naples. After cycling 50km to Schiphol airport we flew into Naples and cycled another 15km from the airport to the port. Naples is chaotic: scooters and heated conversations everywhere. Linda got a slap on the bottom from a passer by. At the port we caught the ferry to the island of Ischia, about an hour and a half away. Another 10km or so completed the days cycling to a kind of resort sort of a place. When we arrived the man rolled his eyes. There were lots of people standing around, so we assumed that the management had gone wrong somewhere. No-one was being served for food! It turned out that everyone gets served at the same time (3 courses). The man said "do you want to heat". We said yes of course we want to heat. And what heating it was. Pasta followed by sea-bass and then fruit. Lovely. In the night the mosquitos attacked however, so that didn't go quite so well.

Day 2 We cycled around the island - heavily tourist oriented with every inch of beach space taken - to an exclusive place that Linda had found via the internet. La Scanella was only reachable on foot as it was down a sheer cliff face, nestling down by the clear blue water. There were a couple of swimming pools and of course the sea to swim into (if you could avoid the motor-launches). Heating was again exceptional, out on the terrace overlooking the sunset and (now empty) sea. Everything would have been perfect were it not for those damn mosquitos. More bites for Linda and me.

Day 3 Our plan depended on the ferrys. Our basic idea was to get to Sorrento, either via Naples or via the island of Capri. Only Naples turned out to be possible. We cycled the 20km to Ischia port climbing steeply around the island, and arrived just in time for the ferry to Naples. On arriving in the port of Naples it wasn't to clear whether we could catch a ferry to Sorrento with our bikes, so we decided to cycle. It was 1530 and Sorrento was 45km away. The going was flat, but tough. Over endless, over-crowded, cobbled streets. Buildings once grand but now faded. People and traffic everywhere. Then my bicycle chain snapped. Luckily I had brought the chain extractor tool with me, so I managed to fix it, but for a while there we were worried. Herculanium and then Pompeii slipped by unnoticed amongst the frenzied development and industrial wasteland. Eventually the urban sprawl began to diminish and we moved into the more cliffy landscape towards Sorrento, the views becoming ever more dramatic. We had booked a log cabin in a campsite for the night, which proved surprisingly good. Sorrento seemed like a cuise-liner stop off point - Italy for upwardly-mobile teenage Americans it seemed like at the restaurant - but was a nice relaxed place to spend an evening. We fell asleep to the sound of chattering Germans.

Day 4. The beginning of the Amalfi coast. Up early we headed out west from Sorrento, the roads becoming increasingly steeper. We stopped for a quick expresso before we his the Amalfi proper, and nothing can really prepare you for the text-book beauty of the place. Sheer cliffs descending to aqua-blue water, and tiny beaches only accessible by boat. And that's it for about 100 kilometres. The cliffs get more sheer (sheerer?) and the sea goes on getting bluer. By bike is the perfect way to view it; you can just glance over the small concrete barrier to the sea far below. After a long days cycling we stopped at Amalfi, and pretty place, but again a bit too Westward Ho! for my liking. We found a lovely wine bar in the evening and enjoyed personal service and fine wine, as we were the only two there the whole evening!

Day 5 (today). We headed inland, first up a steep hill to Ravello (the place where Wagner set some of Parsifal, so Linda was pleased) and then on into the back hills, rising to 1000m. In the heat of the day, we sweated and sweated, but to be able to drift back down to the coast again made it all worthwhile. We stopped at a few more places as the Amalfi coast trails off towards Salerno. The odd expresso here, the odd slice of pizza there. And then Salerno, a town\city of faded glory. Beautiful dishevelled buildings, and grand promenade out front. We book in to the Hotel Jolly - our first hotel with a mini-bar - shower off the sweat of the day and settle down to the Euro 2004 semi-final. Holland v Portugal. My bet is Holland.

Squash at 37

Last Saturday was a one-day squash tournament at the local club. After a few months of lessons from the world-ranked player / coach at our club I thought I'd chance my arm. He's brought me back to the basics. Keep still, follow through, accuracy. The stuff you get taught at lesson 2. It's given me more confidence if nothing else.

On Saturday morning I felt fit and ready to play. 10:15 was my first match. There were about 30 people in the draw: a 'B' level event according the official Dutch classification of squash players. I didn't really know what to expect about the standards, but it was clear after a minute of knocking up that the first opponent wasn't going to provide any problems. I beat him 9-0, 9-0, 9-0 even though, as I found out later, the first rounds were best of three.

Match two was at 11:15. A more stylish opponent, but with no real tactics. This time it was 9-2, 9-4. That meant I was through to the quarter-final and would have to play against my team-mate, Arjan, who plays on the number one spot (I play at two). 12:45 was our scheduled game. I decided to play low and fast to try and avoid Arjan's volleys into the nick from high balls. And it worked! I won 9-5, 9-7. I was in the semi-final.

The day before (Friday) I had watched Tim Henman lose in 4 sets to Coria in the French open semi-final. He'd played superbly to take the first set, then run out of steam for two and half sets, and then put in a late surge to almost claim the fourth set. Although it was an exciting match, he lost. My semi-final followed a similar pattern. My opponent, who looked a bit like a cross between a whippet and a chicken, was the number 1 seed from Utrecht.

The first game went fine, I hit a high tempo and he couldn't keep up. I came off court thinking this might be easy. Then I began to get tired, and Utrecht-man kept running, and running, and running. The second game he one 10-8, the third, after some poor refereeing decisions (I must have been tired because I started arguing with the referee in Dutch) he won 9-7, and the forth again 9-7. I lost the match 3-1. I came off court exhausted, feeling like I'd given everything.

In a way it was a nice feeling to be completely tired out after having performed quite well. I certainly think the lessons are having an effect. The number one seed went on to lose the final, I like to think I tired him out, but I'm not sure if that's true.

A day with Ian and Oliver

Monday was 'Pinksterdag' in Holland - pentecost I think - and another excuse for a national holiday. Ian and Oliver came up to Delft for the day. They are doing a weeks tandem bike-riding, based at a campsite in a place called Veere in the south of Holland. They could just about fit the tandem in the Renault Espace, so they brought it up to Delft. After getting lost on the way they arrived at midday. Oliver headed straight for our pond to study the activity - tadpoles just about developing legs now, newts larking about - while Ian brought us up to date with his latest technology, developments with the latest house, etc..

We headed into Delft for lunch on a boat and, after a few photo opportunities, hit the road for the 'countryside'. The nice Dutch people have created a new cycle path through some fields and lakes near to Delft which is proving hugely popular with the natives. Although half of Holland must have been out on their bikes the fact that you are away from the traffic makes it seem very peaceful and relaxed. It was a beautiful sunny day too, which always helps. We all had a go on the tandem, with Oliver on the back, which really does shift when you are both pedalling! After a cup of tea by a main canal we headed home. I had a squash lesson so had to say brief goodbyes. When I got back home, all was quiet again. Time for a nice glass of wine and a few peices of cheese on the deck. Lovely.