130.42 km, 1,330 m
This day is an optional return trip to Novigrad. Clever peeps (Ju, Steve T, The Leathers, Grant, Chris, Steve T, Richard, Tony B and Mike) spend it strolling around Trieste enjoying beautiful views, fine wine, and dining…
The masochists/luddite idiots/those that want to add a 4th country to the route, mount up, and head SE from Trieste. It’s a ‘gentle leg spinner’ just 130km, and the climbs top out at only ~150m asl. But, this does collectively add up to 1,330m ascent. Not sounding so gentle to now.
In one’s and two’s, we ride the underground garage ramp, arriving blinking like moles into the bustling street outside the hotel. The route should be clear: John has obsessed over every turn (kudos John!), and we have all meticulously pre-loaded a digital file (.gpx) onto our Garmins and Wahoos. And yet, like Kobayashi Maru we fail to seamlessly slip across the city on the wonderful cycle paths, instead, thrashing through 4-way traffic, back-track (UPHILL!) descents with much shouting, and a smattering of passive aggressive comments from the back. Finally, we break out onto a cycle track, and get ready to get on the Choo choo.
It is not to be. The cycle lane is boobie-trapped with bollards, chicanes, mopeds, tunnels and zippy- zimmered grannies. After ~10 miles of high alert, stop-start concertina-ing, the majority (well everyone but John. John has the energy and herding instincts of a working sheepdog, and he didn’t ride yesterday, so is VERY full of beans) call for a café stop. We stop at one on the edge of a duel carriageway, while Kerry zips off to find something more classy. After a couple of minutes he drops a pin in a winner! A seaside lido gelateria. Marvellous! The staff appear both customer unaccustomed, and puzzled by their espresso machines. It’s very quiet, perhaps we’re their first (ever?) customers. While we wait to be served, it would be remiss not to comment on Jeff’s attire. He’s rocking chic taupe knicks (beige shorts is something I will never ‘rock’). Juxtaposed with a shiny Croatian cycling top, packed especially for today, he’s nailed 1980s Bruce Forsyth (just missing Judith Chalmers on his arm).
Justy before the border, Si’s rear tyre blows. The side wall, it’s probably the toll of the week’s rocky roads, and today’s hotter temperatures. A think a gel wrapper was used to brace-patch it; Jeff and I were busy sniffing the jasmine. Once fixed, we skim across into Croatia, a well-earned, 4th country on the trip. It’s blue skies, and lovely and warm, So warm! The earlier brushes with hypothermia in the mountains are distant memories, and we race down into our lunch spot in Novigrad.
It’s a pleasant seaside town, and we linger, unwilling to leave. We stop on the opposite seafront for a photo (missed Craig and Sarah on this one). Then heads down, we start to power back to Trieste, but there’s some stop-starting, waiting for people, and then for Si’s front flat tyre. Sheepdog John rolls his eyes. The return journey is uneventful, apart from Kobayashi Maru #2, as we again get lost in Trieste traffic. Creatures of habit, we drift back to yesterday’s bar on the seafront, and scroll through the mountain of photos (every single one in a different bar) shared on the WhatsApp group by the clever peeps who stayed in Trieste.
Others stay out in Trieste for fine cuisine, but I’m tired, not feeling very hungry and head for bed. I don’t know it at the time, but this blog won’t get finished until 22-June.