Yes, that is a palm tree in the background. And a sunset. It doesn’t take Ironside to figure out that I’m not writing this from the UK...
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| The end of a day's riding at San Remo... |
Honestly, I’d had enough of the UK. I spent some time away from the country last year and promised myself I wouldn’t become one of those people who tell you how rubbish it is there. Here I am less than a year later hiding 1,100 miles away from England on the Italian Riviera. I know you don’t care why I had to get out, about as much as I don’t care to tell you why I needed to stuff a couple of bikes and two weeks of underwear into the back of an Alfa Romeo and head for Europe... I traded Nottingham and grey woodland with 30m of vertical for the mountains and a small, beautiful village called Molini di Triora.
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| Molini di Triora |
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| The mountains above the village |
It’s one of the truly great things about mountain biking. You can travel as far as you want, know as little of the local language as you dare, but if you run into other riders they’ll get it. Hell, there’s a reasonable chance they’ll be pretty impressed that you left your home and drove for 18 straight hours to ride their local trails. Between their decent English and my awful Italian, the guys I was chatting to on the shuttle on Saturday couldn’t believe I’d headed out here on my own. Despite the fact my Italian doesn’t stretch much past ordering a beer or a pizza, we were all laughing in the back of that truck, comparing bikes and getting ready for our next run.
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| Chilling between runs at San Remo |
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| San Remo |
Whenever I’ve traveled anywhere with a bike, it’s always amazed me how welcoming other riders are. I’ve never worried about whether I’ll meet people I’ll get on with. If there’s a decent community of riders you seem to just slot in and get into it. You’ll find folk to ride with, lifts, places to crash. In fact the reason I’m here writing this is entirely down to a lucky conversation with two riders, Ady and Jo.
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| Talking of places to crash, the rocky trails don't take prisoners |
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| Ady |
Over Christmas I hit up a trail center with some guys I didn’t know. Chatting to a couple of them I mentioned that I wanted to get away for a bit, that I wanted to be back in big mountain country and away from the life I’d fallen into. It turns out those people were Ady and Jo who run Riviera Bike (
www.rivierabike.co.uk) and Riviera Freeride (
www.rivierafreeride.co.uk). We had one of those half-conversations, I wanted out and they needed someone to come and help him dig and guide. A month and a few e-mails later I had my foot down on the accelerator pedal heading for Molini.
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| You've got to like your bikes... |
Part of the deal with living somewhere to ride is giving up bits of your life. Most mornings I’m woken early by the cold creeping through the duvet. Once my feet hit the freezing tile floor I’ll stumble into one of my bikes, usually getting a handlebar straight to my kidney. Then it’s time to pray to the gods of water pressure that there’s enough in the system for hot shower today. Sometimes I’m lucky, sometimes I’m not. And do you know what? I don’t care.
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| The uplift trailer |
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| The trails at Diano Marino run right the way down to the seafront |
After a cup of tea (I am British, after all), we’ll bundle the bikes into the truck and head out for the day. Right now we’re mostly scoping trails. Clearing the lines, fixing bits and I’m learning the hills so I can guide people down them when Spring comes. We regularly get that amazing feeling you only find when you know you’re the first person to hit a line in a long time. Every day we’re hitting incredible lines, it seems like there’s a track on every hill and each one is better than the last.
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| Possibly the coolest Italian sportscar going? A Lancia Fulvia |
I’ve not taken it as far as some do even. On the road the shuttles use above San Remo there’s a parking space, and for the last couple of weeks there's been a big camper van pulled up there. Living there were a bunch of riders from somewhere (their van's plates said the Czech Republic). They’ve had the road bikes for training strapped to the back and a BBQ pit out front for cooking. It’s hard not to be a little jealous of them, it looked like a lot fun.
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| Head back to the hill through the streets of Coldirodi |
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| Pievo Dei Teco |
In truth, there’s not that much to heading away with a bike. It’s not free, but for the price of current downhill bike, you could easily spend a few months somewhere riding every day. The hardest bit is that first step. You get comfortable: a job, rent, buying a few toys... It’s hard to step away from that, but once you’ve made the break it should all flow from there. Don’t be surprised if what starts as a little trip or plan ends up growing and growing. If you’re lucky enough to have a family and/or a mortgage I’m not suggesting you drop them! But if, like me, you haven’t then why not?
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| Morning... |
I’m going to be doing some more of these blogs while I’m out here on the Italian Riviera, hopefully to give you an idea of how amazing it is in this part of the world.
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| ...evening |
I need to thank Jo and Ady at Riviera Bike (
www.rivierabike.co.uk) for their hospitality, Saracen (
www.saracen.co.uk) and Descent Gear (
www.descent-gear.com) for helping me out with my bikes and kit.
Matt Wragg
www.accidentalracing.co.uk
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