Stage 1 - From Venturina to Paganico
22 May 2026 - 126.85 km / 1305 m ascent
It’s important to reconcile what we are and what we can do, with the desire to do.
The start
The first stage is long, and as I was saying in yesterday’s prologue, I’m really worried about not making it. But the start surprises me. The air is fresh, it feels good, I pedal with conviction from the very first km, and also — and above all — on the very first hard climbs. I’m happy, and even if the road is long I start to gain some confidence. At the end of the first major climb, the manager of an agriturismo is waiting for us and offers all of us cyclists bread with his excellent olive oil.
The sea
We do a long loop through the countryside until we reach the area of Sterpaia, and a beautiful beach called Nano Verde — a nice discovery for me, since I don’t know that part of the Tuscan coast very well. There’s a splendid atmosphere, lots of people of all nationalities, all happy to be there.
The route is truly beautiful: an up-and-down gravel stretch running along the whole Follonica area, all the way to the protected area of Scarlino, also taking in a breathtaking view of Punta Ala from above.
First problems
Since nothing is ever easy, the bike — recently bought used in what seemed like perfect condition — hands me a first problem, one I thought I’d solved before leaving with the mechanic in Ravenna: the chain won’t “shift up” to the large chainring, it stays stuck on the small one. It’s not a tragedy — the lay of the land means I need the small chainring (rough terrain and climbs) more than the large one. It gets tiring on the long flat straights, where I’m forced to spin the pedals like a hamster to make any progress. And that’s pretty draining. In Follonica we find a bike workshop along the coastal road. I decide to stop and give it a go. But the situation is surreal: it’s two Swiss “mechanics” from Bern, who can barely string together a couple of words in Italian — explaining the situation is very hard. They try anyway, and the situation is at once disheartening and hilarious.
In the end they give up, and I decide to stop looking for the solution and adapt instead. Which will turn out to be the theme of the hours that follow.
Here and Now
After a quick lunch in Castiglion della Pescaia, we continue the route inland, towards Vetulonia. It’s starting to get hot, and I start to suffer. During the climbs this thought comes to me: what matters isn’t so much “where to arrive” as “how to be” in the condition you find yourself in. This thought, given the effort I’m starting to make because of my poor fitness, pushes me to find a state of balance: my pace, my cadence and speed. A state that could be virtually infinite. A state, not a destination. My neck and shoulders start hurting a lot, though — the constant tension on the climbs and descents on the rough terrain begins to take its toll, and my head also starts hurting. I decide to do something that turned out to be very stupid: I take an Ibuprofen tablet. Ten minutes later I have a drop in blood pressure and I’m forced to stop. From then on, the increase in tiredness and effort, in a state that’s far from optimal, will knock me out.
And if you can’t pedal, you push
Two years ago on the Carso, the excessive heat, my fitness and the fear of not making it caused me to give up after the first stage and I went back disheartened. Today, for several moments, I had the same temptation. “Being in the moment” doesn’t help when you see that you can’t find your balance on the pedals. But being aware of your limits, and accepting them serenely, leads you to overcome the embarrassments and to decide that your balance also includes stopping more often, pushing the bike on foot where you can’t ride up, and above all asking for a hand when you need it. My two travel companions helped me by waiting for me and giving me confidence, and with effort I managed to finish the route. Sure, the question can be “but who’s making you do this?” But the point is exactly there: reconciling limits and desire. You can do everything, or a lot, if you do it in a way that’s consistent with your limits.
End of the day
I make it to the end somehow, I’m really very tired but happy to have done my longest route ever despite the poor fitness. Not a test of strength, but a test of determination. The most important thing is that the little car traveling with me also made it to the destination, together with the heart that accompanies it.
