#so many kids want to be a famous footballer or racing driver or whatever

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Panniers and pasta: a foodie cycling tour in northern Italy | Travel

We had been on the road for a month. Our final descent out of Switzerland was breathtaking and, as we raced down the mountain, it felt like we were leaving winter behind us. Road markings flashed beneath us. We were fast; the weight of loaded panniers adding momentum. Thawing snow lined our route, glistening as it melted on either side of the tarmac. We shared the road with drivers who passed leaving plenty of room to spare, some acknowledging us with a polite nod or raised palm.

Italy was now visible. Our fifth country in as many weeks. As we freewheeled, we chatted about how cycling across borders reduces culture shock: you travel so slowly that countries simply dissolve into one another. That theory was instantly shattered as we crossed into Italy. Everything transformed within metres. The energy of the traffic around us changed: horns blared as drivers sped out of Como in the early evening light, some offering a cheery shout of “bravo” or “buon viaggio”. But, after an initial jolt at the border, it only took a day or two to adjust to local driving styles, something that was repeated in all the countries that we would later pass through.

We are not the first to write that our main memories of Italy revolve around food. The blood oranges given to us by a cheery Milanese traffic warden who stopped to chat in the sunshine; cheese and honey breads in the open-fronted delis of Pavia; pizza and Aperol spritz in more places than we could name; and, of course, wonderful home-cooked food with the people who hosted us.

After passing south through Lombardy, we headed east along the Po river, eventually reaching Luzzara, a small town just over the Emilia-Romagna border. Our one night there was a Willy Wonka-esque dream come true for hungry cyclists. We were guests of Luca, a keen cyclist and sculptor who owns the gelateria in the centre of town, and Andrea, a dancer. They were two of many people we met through Warmshowers, a hosting app that’s like Couchsurfing for cyclists (see below).

We were shown straight to the table, already laid with a basket of fresh bread. Having clocked up close to 100km, we were ravenous and craving carbohydrates. A veteran of several cycle tours himself, Luca knew what to expect. He presented plate after plate of homemade pumpkin ravioli with a knowing smile. We didn’t finish eating until close to midnight. And then, after a digestivo of limoncello, Andrea asked: “Do you want to see the ice-cream?”

The streets were empty, lit by sodium-orange street lamps. We walked as a gang of four, beaming like excited children on every step to the shop. Luca had his keys ready. He drew up the shutter, flicked on the lights and laughed as a neon list of flavours lit up on the wall behind him.

Cream of the crop … hosts and gelateria owners Luca and Andrea. Photograph: Ruth Newton

Soon we were behind the counter watching Luca demonstrate how to whip up ice-cream from scratch. He was in his element, a true craftsman. He handed us a box of tiny coloured spoons. “Try whatever you like. Try everything!’’ We didn’t attempt to hide our excitement. We were kids breaking into a sweetshop for a midnight feast with our new friends. Our working lives back in London couldn’t have felt further away.

Italy in spring turned out to be a perfect match for us. After battling snowstorms in Germany and climbing the Swiss Alps, the flat lands lining the River Po were a welcome break – a fortnight of fair- weather cycling to reward us for a month of drama. The river snaked east, twisting and widening gradually alongside us. For the first time since leaving the UK, we could cover more than 100km a day and still have enough energy to go exploring in the evenings.

And while the lack of gradients could get monotonous, the accompanying wildlife more than made up for it. Flamingos made stick-figure silhouettes above the silver waters of the Venice lagoon, and families of curious beaver-ish animals grazed the banks. We later learnt that these furry bystanders are called nutria (coypu in English) and considered a huge pest in Italy, but for us they’ll always be the “beaver-rats”, unofficial mascots cheering us on as we rolled past.

Road less travelled … the Po valley made for great spring cycling. Photograph: Oli Townsend

We were also fuelled by pizza, espressos and the kindness of locals. Our appetites had developed to monstrous extremes but, luckily, everyone we met seemed to want to feed us. Perhaps none more so than Alberto and Sabrina near Piove di Sacco, east of Padua. We arrived at Easter and were invited to join their family for the Sunday feast.

We felt distinctly British as 17 family members from three generations piled around the dinner table, talking loudly over each other with exaggerated hand gestures and huge amounts of love. We devoured plates of homemade lasagne, black rice salad, bread and olives, more pasta and, last but not least, Nonna Maria’s delicious almond cake. The mothers and grandmothers kept entreating us to “mangia, mangia!”, while the grandfathers continued topping up our glasses with grappa. By the end of it, we were well and truly part of the family and completely stuffed. At least half of the party fell asleep in the sun after dinner, only to be roused by the smell of yet another espresso.

Nonna Maria, maker of delicious almond cake. Photograph: Ruth Newton

We moved more slowly as we headed off north, heavier from the feast and a weekend off our bikes. As with many families we met along the way, Alberto and Sabrina had urged us to stay longer than planned, and it was hard to get moving again. We could have happily remained with them for a week, playing volleyball with their eight-year-old daughter and planting seeds in their huge greenhouse.

But we knew we had to pedal on. We wanted to reach Turkey during Ramadan, and the Pamir Highway in central Asia by mid to late summer, when the weather would be temperate. We reminded ourselves of that as we packed and repacked our panniers and trundled into the early morning light.

As happened with most of the 22 countries we cycled across, the main thing we remember about Italy is the people. The Italian tendency towards openness and unquestioning hospitality seems to be in their bones and, hopefully, we’ve picked up a pinch of this on our travels. Now that we are back in the UK, we’re looking forward to hosting people ourselves. We can’t offer midnight tours of ice-cream parlours, but we can lay on a feast and share stories well into the night. And, unsurprisingly, Nonna Maria didn’t let us leave without the recipe for her famous almond cake, for when hungry cyclists happen to stop by. • Eurostar crossings to Lille from £44 one-way, plus £30 per bike

Warmshowers ‘Couchsurfing for cyclists’

Hosts Karin and Martin in the Netherlands. Photograph: Ruth Newton

“Join Warmshowers” was the best piece of advice given to us before we set off on our 11-month tour. In short, Warmshowers is a global “hospitality network for cycle tourers”. Like Couchsurfing, it relies on the goodwill of people offering a bed for the night to passing strangers, with the expectation that they will repay the gesture to other cyclists in future.

Warmshowers offered so much more than somewhere to crash; it became an integral part of our trip. It was a window into the communities we cycled through and the start of many friendships.

To join Warmshowers, cyclists register and create a profile, stating whether they’re on the road or offering to host. Each profile tells you everything you need to know as a passing cyclist, from the languages spoken to the distance to the nearest bike mechanic. After each stay, hosts and tourers post feedback, which allows the network to self-monitor.

There are 132,000 Warmshowers members in 161 countries, and we stayed with over 70 of the 79,000 hosts on the course of our trip. In Europe alone, our journey was made so much richer by the people we met through the network: Karin and Martin in Holland, who borrowed a van to rescue us from a brutal February headwind; Roberto in Italy, who entered us into an all-night table-football tournament against local carabinieri; and Rory in Croatia, who gave us a personalised tour of his island.

At the end of our European leg, we stayed with Kathi and Isky in Istanbul for five days before crossing the Bosphorus and continuing east into Asia. We couldn’t have bought these experiences if we tried – they are some of our fondest memories of the trip. Now, when people ask us for advice on cycle touring, Warmshowers is the first word we say. • warmshowers.org

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Lone Star Round Up – A Hot Rodder’s Shangri-La

When the Lonestar Round-Up, sponsored by The Kontinentals Car Club, hits Austin, TX in early April each year it’s like the whole dang town has turned into a cool car Shangri-La. The very air vibrates with sweet exhaust notes from engines housed in pre-1964 American automobiles and the Americana music that Austin, The Live Music Capital of the World, is famous for. April 2017’s Round-Up at the Travis County Expo Center showcased over 1800 cars, with entries from across the globe, an untallied as of press time but very large number of international spectators, and a parking lot full of non-entrant vehicles that would still do any weekend cruise night proud.

Sixteen years ago on a muggy Texas April weekend Austin car club The Kontinentals sponsored the first Lonestar Round-Up on a football field in central Austin. The only rule was that cars had to be built in America in 1963 or earlier. All 88 fit on the field handily, although torquey tires and turf didn’t always interact as smoothly as they might have.

The second and third Round-Ups were held in East Austin on the grass and under the trees of the lovely Fiesta Gardens alongside the impoundment of the Colorado River that Austin calls Ladybird Lake. At first all of the cars were still shiny. Austin guitarslinger Jimmie Vaughn’s ‘63 Riviera held a place of honor. ZZ Top’s Billy Gibbons could be seen wandering about in beard and nubby skullcap, accompanying customs like Cadzilla, Eliminator, and Copperhed.

The fourth through seventh Round-Ups expanded from Fiesta Gardens to take up all of Festival Beach. T-shirts bearing the HAMB (Hokey-Ass-Message-Board, an Austin-based clearing house for all things traditional hot rod) logo became popular. Vendors and booths included a wide variety of kool Kustom culture, including both of Austin’s female roller derby leagues. The Kontinentals painted almost all of their cars semi-gloss black and gave them red wheels. In a show of road warrior pride, entrants from further parts left the well-earned road grime on their vehicles. The LSRU world started to get a little grittier.

By 2008, Festival Beach could no longer contain the Round-Up, so it moved to the Travis County Expo Center, home of The Austin Rodeo and Republic of Texas Motorcycle Rally. Show cars, like Aaron Grote’s 59 Plymouth bubbletop Atomic Punk, Pete Chapouris’ California Kid, Jake Jacob’s Yellow Coupe, Mike Young’s Exotica, more Jimmy Vaughn owned and Gary Howard built customs, and Kontinental Jefe Steve Wertheimer’s Jim Bruns built Black Dahlia took over the hill at the Round-Up’s main entrance.

The weekend officially begins to the north and east in Taylor, TX, with the Thursday night Meatheads’ Barbecue (also sponsored by The Thunderbolts and host club The Kontinentals) where a couple of cows and a dozen pigs give it all up for your dining pleasure.

Friday’s early risers can meet south of town in Oak Hill at 7:45 AM to receive maps to the Garage Crawl.  This year instead of hitting the usual suspects like the Austin Speed Shop, Murpho’s, or Gus’ Garage, they toured private collections.  The crawl always ends up in central Austin at the Dell Children’s Hospital, where the kids receive gifts and a chance to get up close and personal with some very fine rides.

The Round-Up itself begins Friday at the Travis County Expo Center, and includes not just cars but a swap meet, mini bike races on dirt, constant music from classic acts like bona fide rockabilly queen Wanda Jackson, baritone voiced guitar madman Junior Brown, 80’s new wave road warriors The Woggles, garage rockers Ugly Beats or the latest in rock en Español from Mexico City, Jenny & The Mexicats.  The crowds provide the best people watching of the year, as attendees don their gladdest retro slicked up piled high custom pin-up kar klub glad rags and strut about with Texas pride.

On Friday night Congress Avenue takes on all comers as it does its imitation of the Woodward Avenue Dream Cruise. The spectacle of Round-Up rods and whatever locals feel worthy of showing off inches along under the flashing lights of ever vigilant police cruisers.  North Carolina’s hillbilly grunge band Southern Culture on the Skids performs its annual multi night residency at Kontinentals clubhouse and namesake The Continental Club.  Many will swear that it just isn’t the Round Up without the sweet taste of ‘nanner pudding doled out by the band’s dollfaced singer Mary Huff.

South of town, The Austin Speed Shop parties both nights, showcasing its latest projects, rockin’ bands like the re-located from Los Angeles Paladins, and often free promotional alcohol (don’t forget to tip your server).   North on Burnet, Top Notch drive-in burger joint features music, vintage hotrod films, charcoal burgers and thick shakes along with its vintage vehicles.

Sunday starts with the Slow Ride to The Oasis on Lake Travis, famous for its spectacular sunset views, and ends west of town at Mercury Charlie’s Hot Rods & Honeys with more music, more cars and more overall Austin hip wonderfulness before one has to bid a fond adieu.  For a lot of us, it’s the best week of the year, and packed into just four days.

One of this year’s standouts was a chopped and stretched long lean 59 Cadillac, resplendent in a mile deep purplish hue. Probably the big star of the show, though, was 2016’s Ridler Award winning 39 Olds convertible coupe built by Customs and Hot Rods of Andice, Texas and owned by Billy Thomas of Corpus Christi. It’s been said many times before, but seeing a Ridler winner in person gives you a much deeper understanding of all of the work put into these cars and the exquisite beauty that results. A fellow could about taste the curves and smooth metalwork of Thomas’ deserving award winner. But you also couldn’t escape the aftertaste of sweat from all of the effort the crew at Customs and Hot Rods put in.

Down the hill and deep into the display, last year’s big noise (and smoke) came from an early show appearance by the Corns family’s radial-airplane-engined 39 Plymouth truck. The aviation themed bare metal truck is such an amazing creation that it ended up gracing the cover of the October 2016 HOT ROD.

Rounds of Chicken Shit Bingo, a local tradition, can be found throughout the weekend.

Down the hill and even farther into The Round-Up’s inner reaches, back in the Early Oughts, the rat rod movement blossomed in distressed metal, road-signs and license plate body panels, and rust. TV stars and recent Roadkill nemeses Gas Monkey were early proponents, offering up slammed sedans with slit rear windows and sectioned so skinny the driver sat looking out through a hole in the roof. Others added a Texas touch with cowskulls and horns, rotting cowboy boots with (probably) fake femurs as gearshifts, and living cacti on rooftop gardens. These days there are still some tetanus traps sporting crosscut saw visors and sharp metal mohawks, but the cognoscenti have proclaimed such things as officially uncool.

Texas is a haven for trucks, with a calendar full of Truck Months. Every year Fords and Chevys are represented well and thoroughly. This year featured a few more Internationals along with voluptuous Studebaker TranStars. Last year’s revelation was cab-over-engine workhorses. The trick here was that most everybody had moved the engine behind the cab, so there would be room for big Cummins diesels, etc.  Some COEs even hauled their own hotrods, setting up a beauty contest between hauler and haul-ee.

Bobbers, or “Rudy Trucks,” so named after the archetypal 35 Ford created in 2002 by Rudy Rodriguez of California’s Fullerton Fabrication, are still popular. When a builder gets the proportions right on a chopped thirties pickup cab lowered onto a stepped frame and made useful with a special tailored bed, the appeal is undeniable.

This year diesels were king. Big and old trucks that once upon a time pulled semi trailers, wildly plumbed dual turbo rat rods, a low mean black 63 Cadillac with so many louvers in the hood it was practically lace all housed oilburners.  Hotrodded stepvans and schoolbuses are showing up in larger numbers. There was even a huge red art deco bus that was probably branded with a name that ended in cruiser or liner carefully navigating the show’s parking lot.

The variety of vehicles for sale in this year’s car corral was also impressive. Folks who wanted to purchase a turnkey testament to their coolness could find something to make them happy, but so could somebody looking for a new project. Willys gasser bodies, arguably close to finished rat rods, a couple of sweet El Caminos, a Rambler station wagon sporting oversized Foose wheels, even a multi colored truck based custom straight out of the 80s (picture the inspiration for Chevy’s SSR) could be had for the right amount of cash.

As always, there were plenty of Model T’s, from buckets to track, Model A’s, deuces, tri-fives, fifties Fords and Chevy trucks.  Austin’s Lone Star Round Up remains a haven for all 63 and earlier American built cars.  And if you are into that sort of thing, it’s also early enough in the season to get a glimpse into some of the newer trends in the hot rod universe.

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