They like their two wheeled racing here in Italy. Above is was beautiful monument to motorcycle racing. To the right is a monument to bicycle riding:
All of that Ham and two wheeled racing, on narrow roads, leads to a few deaths. Therefore, cemeteries are stunning. Fresh flowers on graves 30 years old. Photos on the tombs are in perfect shape: |
The tombstone to the left was one of my favorite. A simple cross carved out of a boulder.
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Nobody runs here, everybody bikes for exercise. When I was out running, everyone wanted to talk with me. I only know a few words, but they get me pretty far… “Mi dispiace. Non capisco. Parlo poco italiano. Io non so come usare un bidet.” Translation: “I am sorry. I do not understand. I speak very little italian. I do not know how to use a bidet.”
Notice there are two bikes there. In the photo above-left. The other rider was taking our photo. I was keeping up with them on a steep uphill (they got far ahead on down hill) then I caught them again on a very steep uphill. (I think smoking cigarettes is part of these two guys training.) Anyhow, after I responded to them in something that resembled Italian. They asked me (in broken English, where I was from… I said… “Duluth Minnesota.” not expecting much of a response. I was wrong. The eyes of the guy next to me in the photo brighten up. he gets excited, “Duluth!” He says, “Duluth, Duluth… Bob Dylan! Hibbing!”
That was enough; I forced them to take my photo with them after that.
That was enough; I forced them to take my photo with them after that.