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“It’s a Wrap!”
“Is there anything you need?” asks the Greek driver in very good English, winding down the window of her car. She slows to a halt as she passes, the rising sun just visible through the olive trees on this road through the hills. I briefly explain how, though I value her care, I need nothing;…
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A CAUTIONARY TALE
It’s a hot night here in Slovenia. A pair of Italian women chat together in the garden below my window and their voices are keeping me from sleep. Somehow though, that glorious Italian cadence rolling through the night air is a joy; my wakefulness becomes a space for recall. I’ve journeyed for 6 weeks since…
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The Joy of Compost in northern Italy!
“Maybe I am too old?” I tell myself. “What if I don’t fit their expectations?” I am getting increasingly anxious as I cycle towards hills just north of the historic city of Brescia in Northern Italy. What have I let myself in for? And why? With a week-in-hand before I need to be in Venice,…
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WHY CYCLE, JANE?
“Mild hypothermia,” I say to my cycling other self, as I reflect on my own wierd behaviour yesterday. It had been a cold but sunny 5°C the previous morning when I’d left the northern Spanish town of Portomarin. However, driving wind and rain had then accompanied me over the hills. Two days prior, I passed…




