puffing will get you in the car, because you know that the road is long, you count the hours and you'll have to make at least a break in the roadside restaurants that both physiological hate. You might wonder: will there be anyone able to get to their destination without stopping? Yes. Someone make it. But you do not try it the first time.
Get in the car and you're inside the city, and would be painful for you but it was Sunday afternoon, because with the traffic on weekdays you could take half an hour just to take the expressway. Instead you chose the right day and moment are there, in a perfect trajectory to get to intercept the A14 at Clairvaux.
Before leaving the Apennines along the river Esino along the SS76 Adriatica, be sure to see the ridges of bare rock above the tunnels of the road, an image that you will not see all the way from the entry already in the Gorge Red, from which Marche begin to relax towards the Adriatic, albeit unevenly and with great calm. Getting to
Clairvaux you hit straight to the stomach. You sticking out a tongue of asphalt that nothing just thinking about how long you are sick. Unfortunately it is also the only convenient way to get where you need a half-day low. And what
never lose sight of the coast and the intensity of the sea between Senigallia and Marotta, you just can not forget that, where are you now, before there was only a dense forest, and make you feel less guilty about not will certainly help the bulldozers and mechanical construction sites sprouting like mushrooms by the roadside.
There is only one stroke, one between the output and the Fano Pesaro, full of ups and downs and curves, which, if taken at a rate slightly higher than the cruise, it becomes fun to drive so that you almost forgive him for being injured un'immonda gray area between the green hills that within a few kilometers will give life to Romagna.
between Riccione and Rimini the North division of the frequencies of the ether was made a little 'fuck the dog, so Virgin Radio, Radio R-101 Italy and overlap, creating a background noise of crackling noises and voices from beyond the grave, plus making it impossible to listen to each station. On the other hand, after the road widens Rimini Nord acquiring a third lane, and slowly begins to move away from the coast to run towards the plain. The Apennines are now far away, and the horizon expands so much that you almost hurts the eyes. To see the next hill we must turn our gaze towards Tuscany and wait for Imola, even if they become worthy of the name only on the outskirts of Bologna.
Seeing him in motion, this agglomeration of adjacent fields do not seem to provide shelter or protection, nor the passenger nor the inhabitants. The trees are so few who do not find even a place to take cover, if it began to rain suddenly.
The reconciliation of Bologna, or at least the initial part, ie the one that goes from San Lazzaro exit at San Donato, is so bad that they might like it only an engineer passionate about schemes and matryoshkas. E 'developed in a concentric manner and it seems so much planted between the buildings to look like a huge octopus giant crazy who decided to occupy the city. And so, as you go down the A13 towards Padua, you're not you will be running on the asphalt drainage hued sand, but on one of its tentacles, precisely the one that points to the north / northeast and that the giant creature has to go to cling distesto euganei to the hills, Venetian Po Plain anomaly.
E 'Ringtone to your brain stops thinking, as proven by the monotony of 250 km of road almost straight.
If you walk the stretch after the exit Ferrara Nord of the night, you can try a strange feeling of loss. After the release in fact, a very small handful of miles outside the road signs placed above and beside the highway there is not even a light. Not a light bulb of a rural village or of a country farm, not a lamp nor the headlights of some cars traveling on a mule track between fields. Only darkness, complete darkness. It seems to dive into anything, and you will sink the natural gas to go see how it ends. Unfortunately, the game ends at once: the bridge over the Po boasts, on the highest point of the parable that draws in the air, a sign that claims the border between Veneto and Emilia-Romagna. Once there, the Occhiobello campaigns around, you begin to see buildings lit up, probably used to house the corporate offices of local companies, so it all comes back sharply less spooky and mysterious and at the same time, much less charming.
Continuing the highway to the end you get to Padua, where he started this endless maze of steel and green posters that is his ring. You may have had the misfortune to come to Rome or Milan by car, or perhaps only on joints less chaotic and tangled, but such a frenzy curvilinear do not you forget it anymore.
In such a context, you will not be easy to find the road that goes straight north into the swamp Castelfranco, before you turn slightly to the north-west go to lap the Pre-alps right into Bassano del Grappa. It 's a freeway that does not suffer particularly traffic, except for some urban sections, and only when you get Resana, where the road returns to a small state with a single lane in each direction, the sign marking the Province Treviso lets you know how far you've done. You are at the same height in Milan now, your ride is approaching four hours (excluding parking) if the traffic was not too dense, the eyelids are heavy because it is after the Catholic in the countryside will only change the shade of green.
When you arrive at your destination you will hurt your legs. Not as if you had done the walk sure, but so will hurt you, and for the rest of the day is not about stretching that you do whenever they get the chance.
you to your destination.
Maybe.
But as long as you feel is a nomad, you will save his life.
As long as you have the strength not to buy a house alarm systems to make it safe and impregnable as a prison, you will not forget that you're still having to live with yourself.
Until you sign your mortgage as an oppressive burqa to buy a damn suv, to travel the ten kilometers separate you from the office, you can look in the mirror with sufficient honesty.
editor's note: see what's going to spend a Friday evening to talk about the sudden success of the editorial travel books!
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