Cycling is a treasured sport in Italy. You only need to be here a short period to realize just how much the Italians love “La Bicicletta”. The number of local cyclists, the countless bike shops, the graffiti on the roads in the Dolomites encouraging their favourite Giro d’Italia racer. We’ll be cycling past a group of men having their morning espresso at a coffee shop and someone will always smile and scream out “Forza, Forza!” (be strong) and wave their hand. We’ll be climbing up a steep hill, a car will pass, the window will be rolled down and we’ll hear “Bravo”. Believe it or not, I even got a “Bravo Bellisima” a few days ago! Too sweet. 
The other day, an elderly man with a great smile came up to me, pointed at my bike and asked “Dove vai?” (Where are you going?). I stumbled along trying to explain our route. “Oh! Bravo, bravo”. Then he pointed to himself and talked about the Dolomites with the brightest gleam in his eye and a huge smile. Despite the fact that I don’t speak Italian we managed to continue talking for a bit longer. Then he patted me on the shoulder, said “Bravo, bravo!” once again and went on his way. Incredible! Want to hear the best part? Something like this has happened almost everyday.
Yup, there are many things I love about Italy; that golden light that floods the Tuscan landscape, the quiet grace and beauty of hilltop towns like Pienza and San Gimignano, sweeping descents amongst sunflowers, the wine, the food…the list is long. The one thing I will cherish the most though are the countless conversations I’ve had in Italian, those moments when I wasn’t a tourist but a fellow cyclist with a shared passion for “La Bicicletta”.
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