Day 76 - Tuesday 5th October - Potenza to Lagonegro

We have spent the past two days a prisoner of our own lethargy, barely moving from a reclined position chewing bread in bed whilst alternating between the BBC World Service and Italian MTV. We know all the words to Katy Perrys new song, and thats just from watching the BBC. I jest. We are of course, more abreast with world politics than ever before, but alas awake today with no more energy. We emerge for breakfast and Roberto is so concerned at our hibernation he threatens to call the doctor. We reassure him we are as fine as we will ever be and sleepily mount our bikes. The day begins with yet more climbing, followed by ascending, then climbing and so on and so forth. At least today, we know that our planned destination is at lower altitude than our starting point. How far we climb and drop between that is another matter.

Within the first 10km we are all in danger of being sick on ourselves. The sun continues to beat down mercilessly and our legs seem to have gone into shock after a two day minibreak! We press on and enjoy some superlong tunnels which although perilously dark and narrow (here comes Signor Lorry from behind) they do at least offer a path through a few mountains rather than over them. Why they couldnt just build one massive long tunnel through the mountain range I do not know. Many people in Italy have failed to understand the whole point of our trip, and continue to enquire why we dont just take the train. When I explain that we travel by bicycle only, they exclaim "but you can take your bike on the train!" Despite previous laughter at the idea, Im beginning to wonder whether they had the right idea......
After a particulary brutal long climb up out of Brienza, I pass the lead onto Philippa, and as ever, having done my entire 10km uphill, Philippas is a blissful 10km down, in probably a 20th of the time it took to do mine! Such is the joy of cycling.

We find ourselves in a wide flat valley, the likes of which we havent seen since Austria. Theres mountains either side and we are able to (almost) cruise along, although a little more slowly than usual. Before long, the inevitable happens, and as we are having a break at the roadside, a car pulls up and enters into conversation with us (ok just with Philippa, Hazel and I pretend to understand and nod along). Francesco is a keen cyclist and insists on buying us coffee. Never people to turn down free caffeine we accept, and enjoy pleasant chat (ok, again, Hazel and I are just smiling) and gain invites to Francescos home should we be in the area. We have no idea where the area is, but we appreciate the gesture all the same. You cant say the Italians arent welcoming. Well, the men at least, are very friendly. In a nice way though, they genuinely cant be of more help to us. With smiles on our faces, boosted by yet another warm human experience we continue on our way.

Unfortunately the wide flat valley abruptly ends, replaced by mountains. As we watch the lovely smooth motorway head off into a nice tunnel through them we ponder as to why all motorways do not come with bike lanes attached....
We decide not to risk the Autostrada today and head off on the state road instead, which reassuringly, Francesco has assured is, is quite dangerous. If by dangerous he means so steep you can only cycle at 5mph then he is correct, for we are not bothered by any heavy traffic. Just the occasional Fiat Panda or three wheeled van which threatens to fall apart on the road in front of us, perhaps causing us harm by inhalation of their noxious fumes! Its a long winding climb and at 9%, also very slow. Eventually we make it to the pass at the top, approx 800m above sea level. Blissfully we now get to drop down to our resting place at 400m, so its a squealing of breaks as we roll down the bends into Lagonegro. Yet another beautiful mountain top town, and Hazel even blesses the scenery with the ultimate compliment, "It reminds me of Wales".
We struggle to locate any accommodation and on finding the pension full, follow the vague directions of an old lady up the hill to a hotel. We follow the arrow of her pointing hand and find ourselves on a very cobbled, very narrow and extremely steep track. We dont really believe it is a road, more of a crack between two houses. And yet more cars continue to squeeze through, obviously heading somewhere. Despite the girls suggestions that we turn back "Theres no way there could be a hotel up here" I suggest we consult that last resort of cycle touring.....the IPhone. Google maps informs us that we should be directly opposite a hotel, and although we think maybe google maps has misjudged our location, I trot down a side "road" which may have had steps on it, (easily tackled by a Fiat Panda no doubt). Lo and behold, theres a massive hotel perched on the hillside. Joyfully we check in (its super cheap for some reason) and rest peacefully, with the knowledge its all smooth downhill to the sea tomorrow......