Asti To Bologna

From Asti we had an easy but dull ride on the flat. The roads were poorly maintained and full of long crack, sometimes wider than my tires. In the distance we could see the mountain and that were we were heading. Inevitably our final destination required us to scale a massive hill. For ages we climbed and climbed, it seemed to never end. I stopped to eat figs off a tree overhanging the road, and stopped again to admire the view. Eventually we were there, the Valli Unite organic argicultural co-operative. We stayed for the entire weekend as volunters for…

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What have I learnt from the tour?

As my month of sunkissed, intense Ecotopia draws to a close, I’ve found myself wondering: have I changed as a person? For better, for worse? The more I wonder, the clearer the answer: yes, Sam, of course you’ve changed for the better, Now you have a deep, hot, glowing tan. A tan over the forearms, and even on the underside of the forearms. A tan on the back, and the deepest bronze cresting your shoulders. A sunkissed head, neck, ears, nose, forehead, chin and cheeks. Even my enormous heart now appears more golden. And also my entire legs, because I…

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The biketour in food form

‘It fills my heart when people can just eat what they want to and there is still food left at the end’ – João Taborda 2012 Cycling up a hill towards Valli Unite this evening, just after my first ripe fig which I have been waiting for for months, I realised that it’s been a while since I wrote something and I thought that I would spend a little time collecting my biketour memories so far, using our encounters with a vast variety of foods of all shapes and sizes to help me. Apples – We woke up one morning…

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The Squats of Coordinamento Asti Est

30th August – As the tours cyclists congregated outside a bar by Asti train station, a couple of our hosts for the evening arrived to take us to a large squatted building where we would eat and sleep. The building once belonged to the department of health but, left empty, it now houses twelve previously homeless families of Moroccan immigrants. We ate our evening meal with members of the association which initiated the occupation and were told we’d be eating breakfast at another squat in the morning where we’d also learn more about the project. In the meantime we had…

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