Tornelli! - Belgium to Italy by Bike

We Don’t Have This In Australia

Fresh flowers’ vibrant perfume wafts across the cobbled market square, clothes and scarves line the next street; freshly cooked chicken and pork are carved into portions, the delicious smell causing a waterfall in my mouth.

Guardiagrele is positioned on a hill at the foot of the Maiella (national park). It is rich in history and culture. The town is entered through the Porta San Giovanni, next to the local craft shops of coppersmiths and ironsmiths. The church of Santa Maria Maggiore, built of rock from the Maiella, is a place we seek refuge from the warm sun and busy streets – cool walls and harmonising choir offer make our hearts swell and bodies cool.

En route to Guardiagrele (the back roads!)

Back to the cobbled streets, we order two coffees, thick dark liquid in tiny cups. Noel points to two small pastries, we've no idea what they are, but the idea is to try local foods.

Delicious - filled with custardy chocolate!

​I don't take sugar in coffee - that is, until Iived in France, in Italy I have half the coffee and twice the sugar. Now I understand how to enjoy it - I love it! The homemade pastry is light, crisp and filled with wonderful chocolate gooey cream. The total cost is €3.70, for two coffees and two pastries.

We sit and people watch. Not one person is in their daggies or sloppy-Sundays.Tight, crisp jeans hug women's thighs, pressed neat trousers sit straight on men’s tall legs. Coiffered hair is perfect for both men and women. It has me pulling my pony tail tighter, helmet hair is not a good look and I can't remember whether I even brushed it this morning.
​
An English couple stroll passed, incongruous with slightly wrinkled clothing, uncombed hair and touch of the bewildered. I realise we mirror their appearance. We were not done up in our finery as the Italians are. Suits, high heels, make up and jewellery, it really is somewhere I don't fit! I've brought along one pair of old jeans, just my black boots, a t-shirt and 2 shirts and then all the motorbike jumpers, which are for warmth not fashion!

We wander the streets, fascinated with the market fashion, straight from the cat walk. It’s enough to just absorb the local culture, the soft accents with the odd harsh words floating around us - never words in anger, simply passion - with the famous waving of arms and hands as only the Italians can do.
 
What does travelling mean to you?
 
Next: Views, Free Stuff, and Freedom