From Ravenna to Comacchio
16 June 2023
4 years after my first solo bike trip, I decided to return to those same places, in search of the very reasons that pushed me to come back. And your head is already spinning, isn’t it? You’ll see later.
The start
I set off from Ravenna a bit later than I thought, but that’s fine — I don’t feel like rushing and I’d rather take it really easy. But the first hour of the trip is a comedy, in the most classic of my traditions. First, the GPS on my navigator won’t lock on. Oh well, it gets solved easily with seven or eight pirouettes on myself. Finally I set off, and after a few km the map I created with Komoot suggests turning onto a gravel road. Hmm, let’s see. A lovely gravel avenue, very gravel-bike-friendly, which I enjoy until the end, when — well, it ends. In front of me a mound, and on top of it, the railway tracks.
“And so? Wait… are you telling me that…”
“Yep”
“You mean I have to…”
“Yes indeed”.
Alright, let’s cross the tracks on a curve with a fully loaded bike on my neck — what could possibly go wrong? Said and done, I hop like a lame cricket and cross the tracks practically flying. From there I set off again, and an incomprehensible maze of country lanes begins, ending against a huge Newfoundland dog, behind which I make out a little man who kindly explains that if I need to reach the embankment, I might as well start over. Perfect. All that’s left is to get back on a normal urban road and ask Maps to pretend I’m a car, and after ten minutes or so of traffic and chaos, I reach the embankment. And off, towards the sea.
Towards the sea
The route is very beautiful, pleasant gravel. At a certain point it narrows considerably and becomes single track, doable even if surrounded by very tall grass. I find a man with his son bogged down and worried; I overtake them slowly and encourage them to continue, since shortly after the road widens and becomes very beautiful. In reality I haven’t the faintest idea, but determination works, and they follow me confidently. Look at that — the road widens and becomes very beautiful. And we reach the sea. But that part I already knew.
I’m at Lido di Adriano, which is the Casilino-on-sea, for those familiar with East Rome. I feel a bit at home but I prefer to push on towards Punta Marina, much more pleasant, from where I reach Porto Corsini, where I’ll board the ferry that takes you across the Candiano Canal, at the point where it flows into the sea.
Once I arrive at Marina Romea, the real trip begins. I slip into the Piallassa della Baiona, the first lagoon area of the Po Delta Park. And the horizon starts to open up.
The silence
There’s a beautiful silence, underlined only by the many bird species that live here. I pedal slowly, I enjoy the landscape, the journey, and I nourish myself with all the beauty around me. After a few km I come across a dead tree, where the residents or holidaymakers of Marina Romea — I don’t know why — have left some very beautiful messages that move me a little.
I continue the journey between sandy pine woods and gravel embankments. I’m starting to get hungry, and it’s time to look around. Said and done, from afar I see Trattoria Primaro and I dive in. The owner, whose kindness is certainly well hidden (but he makes no secret of it), explains that they don’t make sandwiches, let alone piadine, but I sit down — a bit of cool rest is welcome, and a plate of pasta isn’t going to kill me. In fact I order some excellent Passatelli with cuttlefish ragù that bring me back to life.
The magic of the Comacchio valleys
I set off again after eating, and here comes the magic. In front of me, all of a sudden, the Comacchio Valleys open up — a huge and wonderful lagoon area of the Po Delta. Still waters, absolute silence, birds of every kind, it’s an incredible spectacle. Instead of taking the long way around, I find by chance the “walkway” that cuts across the whole lagoon and I decide to take it. And it’s beautiful.
Everything around me tastes of peace and I feel part of it all. I pedal very slowly, in supreme respect for myself and for everything that exists. At every crossing a flock of birds flies off into the lagoon. I keep pedaling, and I start to understand why I’m here, why alone, and why right now. It has to do with meeting my self of back then, reassuring him, embracing him, closing an important circle whose premises start from very far away. Is your head spinning even more? Hey, I had warned you.
I have no idea where this road leads — I’ve ditched maps and certainties (the “survival” mode, as Erica Poli would say, to make room for existence) — in the end, in Comacchio, somehow I’ll get there. And indeed I get there, through a quiet maze of canal embankments that leads from the lagoon all the way to the center of town.
And now aperitivo, dinner, rest, and then tomorrow we set off. Ah, the ventro-vagal thing, you say? Recently I’ve been getting interested in Stephen Porges’ Polyvagal Theory. No, I’m not going to explain it here — I put the link there for a reason 😄