A convergence of the UCI Cyclocross World Championships in Fayetteville and some family in Bentonville resulted in our latest trip: to Arkansas, for the first time (for one of us, anyway). Bentonville is the home of Walmart, and two of the Walton sons are determined to make Northwest Arkansas the country’s premier mountain biking, cyclocross, and gravel riding region. They appear to be succeeding.
The Walton brothers invested in the development of this course in a bid to nab the 2022 cyclocross world championships. It worked.
Men under 23 Division racing when we arrived on Saturday:
The main portage point of the race – 29 steps followed by the biggest drop on the course:
The Belgians swept the podium in the Men under 23 Division – maybe not too surprising, considering the cobbles of Paris-Roubaix?
Start of the Elite Women’s Division race in the VIP section, courtesy of Mike:
A distinctly lower caliber of bikers at Crystal Bridges:
And later at The Hub at the top of the Coler Mountainbike Preserve:
A little air show entertainment on Sunday, while waiting for the Elite Men’s race to start:
Freakin’ hilarious sign on the course for the Elite Mens race:
If you don’t know the reference, consult the picture below and the resulting aftermath from the jackass holding the original version of the sign on the route of the first stage of last year’s Tour de France:
Transitioning from riding to portaging up the stairs like salmon swimming up a fish ladder – freakin’ amazing athletes (British winner Tom Pidcock in the lead):
As Russia continues their belligerent posturing along the Ukraine eastern border (and now on Ukraine’s northern border with Belorussia, where Putin has begun positioning even more troops), it’s helpful to understand the history of Ukraine’s borders in the political and cultural fluidity that characterizes central Europe. (Let’s be serious – fluidity across all of Europe, which is why the place is so freaking interesting from a historical and cartographic perspective.)
Our buddy, Jim, who also follows WolfeStreetTravel, recently recommended this really compelling Washington Post article from 2015 on the evolution of Ukraine’s territory and borders. This article was published when Putin was previously taking aggressive actions to absorb Ukraine’s Crimean Peninsula into mother Russia. Definitely recommended reading for anyone following the crisis unfolding around Ukraine.
The Washington Post’s resident cartographer, Gene Thorp, developed for the article several really helpful and really compelling maps depicting how Ukraine’s territory transformed over the centuries as empires, warring factions, and treaty agreements changed. To wit:
Catherine the Great’s encroachment into what previously was either sovereign Ukrainian territory or land ruled by the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth in the 17th century. (WolfeStreetTravel previously included latter in another Mappy Hour post on the evolution of Europe during the Brexit buildup.)
Or, a severed Ukraine after the post-WW I Treaty of Brest-Litovsk, where Poland wound up with most of western Ukraine, including the major city of Lviv, but lost the territory during the Russian civil war, after which Ukraine joined the USSR as the Ukrainian Soviet Socialist Republic within the union.
The body of the article includes more maps and some really great context for how and why Ukraine looked like it did at different times during the last 1000+ years, as well as how the native people of Ukraine changed due to Soviet actions. Good stuff!
So, as most of you probably saw in the news this morning, former South African president F.W. de Klerk has died.
Here’s why it’s appearing on WolfeStreetTravel: Because F.W. de Klerk’s grandson turned out to be our guide on safari in South Africa in 2018. From our post on that segment of the trip:
“Our guide on the right below introduced himself as F.W.
During sundowners our first night, we asked him: ‘Like, F.W. de Klerk?’ He said, ‘Yeah. Like that.’
So we poked at this, and he acknowledged that he was, indeed, former South African president F.W. de Klerk’s grandson and namesake. F.W. de Klerk (the president, not our guide) presided over the end of apartheid, which F.W. (our guide) said earned him many fans and many more detractors in the white population.”
Volterra claims the spot for the final Tuscan town we’d visit on this road trip. Located in the west of Tuscany, Volterra – like its eastern counterpart of Cortona – did not make it to our Tuscan biking itinerary back in 2004, which focused primarily on central Tuscany. We’d remedy that oversight on this trip.
Volterra definitely qualifies as yet another hill town – long climb to get from parking outside the walls to the center of town.
Entering the walled town through Porta a Selci. Originally an Etruscan gate into a walled settlement, the current portal dates from the 16th century.
To the right of the gate is a plaque depicts soldiers entering Volterra with text in Italian reading: “This brings the soldiers allies Entered Volterra 40th anniversary of Liberation 9 July 1944 – 9 July 1984.” The US 88th Infantry Division’s drive north up the Italian peninsula in WW II took it first to Rome, then on to Umbria and Tuscany. On May 8, 1944, the 88th “launched an attack toward Volterra on the 8th, taking the town the next day. (From here.) To our knowledge, this is the first Tuscan (or even Italian) town we’ve visited that was the site of a WW II battle.
Heading into the historic center by way of a fairly picturesque – albeit less-than-charming – main thoroughfare.
Crowded evidence that we’re getting closer to the center of Volterra:
Finally reaching Palazzo dei Priori, in the actual center of town:
Volterra’s impressive 13th-century town hall, the Palazzo dei Priori:
With its complement of governing family coats of arms, as we’ve seen in every town on this trip:
Nice little market buzzing in the piazza the morning we arrived:
Across the piazza from the town hall lies the Palazzo Pretorio, which once served as the office of the mayor and as apartments for the Captain of the people’s guard, the Pretorio. The palazzo’s tower dates from the 13th century and is called the Torre del Porcellino – Tower of the Little Pig – because of (or resulting in? sources are unclear) a statue of a pig on a little ledge to the right of the uppermost window.
Volterra’s other tower around the corner, the cathedral’s 15th century companile, which appears way more Lombard than Tuscan to us.
And the super-Romanesque and very modest cathedral itself, dating from the 12th century (which actually replaced a 9th-century structure that was destroyed in an earthquake in the mid-1100s):
The mildly bizarre Chiesa Della Misericordia (Church of Mercy):
The church has been converted to a museum of vintage ambulances:
A word that we’ll take the opportunity to highlight as absolutely hilarious in German, as helpfully demonstrated in this brief video, which several Werners already have been subjected to:
Heading down one of the hilly town’s picturesque streets:
And ending up at another gate in the town’s walls – this one much older than our entrance gate:
Volterra’s Etruscan Porta all’Arco (Arched Gate) was one of the passageways through an extensive 7-km-long defensive wall built between the 4th century and 3rd century BC.
Heading to our final destination of the road trip a few miles outside of Volterra. . .
The destination itself: Borgo Pignano. After staying in towns our entire road trip, we opted for borgo in the country for our final night. An Italian borgo is a small hamlet or settlement, and many have been transformed wholesale into hotel complexes that incorporate the old village’s structures. In our case, the manor house served as the main hotel, while tradesmen’s shops and houses have been converted into villas, the spa, a restaurant, etc.
The little borgo’s old town church opposite reception:
The best repurposed structure in the borgo? A town warehouse converted into a museum of vintage Italian bikes, motorcycles, and cars from Italy’s golden age of style from the 1940s to the 1970s.
1964 Fiat 600 Seicento Multipla, nicknamed “the Sisters’ car” since it was a common conveyance for nuns; occupancy six.
1973 Legnano Roma Specialissima. Legnano was a major player in competitive cycling from the 1920s through the 1940s, and their bikes won 15 Giri d’Italias and two Tour de Frances. Bianchi rose to power from the 1950s on, and eventually bought Legnano in 1987. Suite Campy groupo.
1973 Poghliaghi Record. Poghliaghi exemplified Italian artisan frame making, and he only made between 100 and 1000 bikes, butEddy Merckx rode one to victory (we assume in the Giro? it wasn’t the Tour, according to this site cataloguing the bikes that won each year). Another suite Campy Record groupo.
1958 Piaggo / ACMA Vespa 400 microcar. “The 394cc two-cylinder two-stroke motor. . . could propel the car and 4 occupants to a top speed of 51 miles per hour, eventually.”
1947 Bianchi Aquilotta da Corsa, used in the years following WW II when Italians began competing again with motorcycles and mopeds.
1947 Alpino 63 Bicarbuatore, also built for racing in the post-war years.
1948 Fiat 500C “Little Mouse:”
1930s Gloria Garibaldina:
Sporting innovations such as wooden wheels and one of Campagnolo’s first derailleurs, which you needed to manually engage by reaching behind you. One lever loosened the axel and the other moved the chain to change gears. Freaking wild.
1954 175cc MV Augusta:
1954 Iso Rivolta Isetta 250, a three-wheeled Italian microcar or “auto-scooter.” Iso’s prior experience was manufacturing refrgerators. . .
On the heels of the Slow Roll through the South of France and over to San Sebastian, and in response to 18 months of unfulfilled, backlogged travel aspirations stymied by the pandemic, we headed back to Europe less than a month later. This time to Italy.
We had two goals for this trip:
Finally visiting and hiking the Cinque Terre – the five tiny and charming towns along the Ligurian coast of Italy south of Genoa. We’ve been interested in traveling to the Cinque Terre for years, but the charm and beauty of the towns has always been accompanied by a well-earned reputation of being overrun by tourists. We don’t like mobs of tourists, so we never went. Then: pandemic. As soon as Italy opened back up, we beelined it there to experience the region before a resurgent tide of of humanity could reach it.
Returning to Tuscany. Unsurprisingly, we’re fans of Tuscany. Surprisingly, we have only spent 5 days there, biking between five Tuscan towns during our only previous visit in 2004. Quintessential Tuscan towns, to be sure – Montalcino, Montepulciano, Siena, San Gimagnano, and Florence – but such a short time to spend in an area that was immediately so appealing to us. So, we thought we’d remedy that and head back to get a more immersive experience of the area (and hit two towns that occupied the eastern and western extremes of our 2004 bike route, and that we missed, as a result).
Here’s the route for the trip, starting at the top left:
We started the trip in the Cinque Terre – flying into Pisa, then taking a series of trains to get from the airport to our home base town there. We then trained back to Pisa to pick up a car and head into Tuscany, rotating slowly clockwise to visit or stay in towns around Florence before heading back to Pisa to fly back.
We spent the first 3 days exploring the five little towns of Cinque Terre, comprised of Riomaggiore at the southern end:
Followed by Manarola:
Then Corniglia:
Vernazza (our home base for our stay in the Cinque Terre):
And finally, Monterosso, the northernmost village and the only one with an actual beach:
We hiked the only trail open between two of the towns during our stay, and had to hop a train or a boat to see the rest. A little disappointing not to be able to hike through all five, but we made out okay.
After killing the Cinque Terre, we headed back to Pisa to pick up our car (taking advantage of a delay in the car’s arrival by trotting up the street from the rental office to quickly check out the leaning tower). We then drove a short distance to Lucca in northern Tuscany. We’d spend only a day there, but Lucca turned out to be an unexpected highlight of the trip. The town was protected by fully intact, thick Renaissance walls, the 4k circumference of which you could circumnavigate by bike or by foot (which we did):
It offered a cool Torre Guinigi in the middle of town, with oak trees growing from the top:
And one of its piazzas retained the oval footprint of the ancient Roman amphitheater that previously occupied the space:
All of this added up to make Lucca a historically and atmospherically appealing highlight of the trip.
From Lucca, we headed south to Cortona, driving around the urban core of Florence and stopping for a bit in Fiesole at the recommendation of our niece, Tara. Fiesole sports, among other features, a remarkably intact Roman amphitheater, which was being put to use while we were there by an Italian band shooting a video. As you can hear, the 2-millenium old amphitheater’s acoustics still work!
We reached Cortona, and settled in for 2 days there. Our bike trip in 2006 took us through the center of southern Tuscany, so we missed the two famous hill towns on the periphery: Cortona on the east and Volterra on the west. Cortona was worth the wait.
Cortona’s Palazzo Comunale in the center of the small town:
Cortona also was the site of our second Air B&B of the trip (and only the fourth rental we’ve tried during our travels). We’ve always stayed in some flavor of hotel on our trips – more than 200 of them so far – and we’re now dipping our toes into the rental approach on this trip and previously on the Slow Roll. Generally, they’ve been positive experiences. In Cortona, our place sported a view over the Chiana Valley, which worked out quite nicely for evening Brunellos:
From Cortona, we headed west to Siena in the absolute center of Tuscany, and spent 3 days in and around town, which we had pegged as having Uzès-like potential as a longer-term destination for us in the future (nope – a much bigger city than we recalled from our bike trip).
But, it turned out that Siena itself would not be the main attraction of our stay there. Instead, it would be truffles. Without intentionally planning for it, we found ourselves in Tuscany during truffle season, much to our delight.
White truffles at dinner in town one night (when all we were looking to do was to grab some pizza and ended up here purely by happenstance), at a restaurant featuring a menu designed to pair with white truffles, which they served by the shaved – and carefully weighed – gram:
Black truffles the next day, foraging in the woods by a winery about 20 minutes away from Siena. The Italians use trained dogs to find truffles in the forest, rather than the pigs used in France:
A very successful foraging foray!
Trying out another Air B&B with another amazing view, this time from a private roof deck in the center of town:
After our time in Siena, we continued west to Volterra, stopping on the drive over to the tiny, but heavily fortified hamlet of Monteriggioni:
Where the final activities of a cyclocross race were winding up:
Monteriggioni was fortified because it served as a forward base of the Sienese during the Renaissance against any attempted incursions by their arch-enemy to the north, Florence:
Variations on a theme: after Monteriggioni’s walls, we ended up in heavily walled Volterra. We spent a day wandering about the eastern outlier in Tuscany that we missed in 2006 – it did not disappoint:
And then, as a departure from our stays in towns throughout the trip, we headed to a borgo – an entire village converted to a hotel – in the countryside outside Volterra for our final night:
One of the village’s old buildings had been converted for use as a museum of vintage Italian cars, motorcycles, and bikes – very cool.
Early the next morning, we drove back to Pisa, dropped off the car (this time without incident), and flew home – another road trip in Europe successfully executed!
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