After my first proper bikepacking trip from Murnau to Bergamo a few years ago, I finally went on another bikepacking holiday this year. And because Italy is always a good idea, I set off with two friends for an eight-stage loop from South Tyrol through Trentino and Veneto and back again. In between: endless vineyards, endless carb-loading and, above all, the perfect balance between being on the road and giving in to the Italian way of life.
There are apparently people who claim that northern Italy isn’t the “real Italy”. And sure, the country feels different in hot Sicily, or also Rome, than it does in Trentino or Veneto. But the north has plenty to offer in its own right: the imposing Dolomites, for example, or lush green vineyards stretching endlessly across the gentle hills and valleys – and, as I’ve learnt this year, really good Prosecco.
After googling Valdobbiadene out of curiosity one day – the very place that gave its name to my beloved Valdo Prosecco – I knew: I needed to go there. And I needed to go by bike. Luckily, my friends Kathi and Lisa didn’t need much convincing, and so at the end of May we made our way to Bolzano. For the sake of simplicity – it’s easy enough to get there by bus – Bolzano would be the starting and finishing point of our tour, which in our heads looked something like this: get on our bikes in the morning, cycle through dreamy landscapes and vineyards, stop in cute little villages for a caffè or an affogato, and then, happily exhausted, treat ourselves to a generous plate of pasta or pizza and perhaps a glass of Prosecco or wine in the evening. And as it turned out, our idea was pretty spot on. It did, however, take an evening puncture in the middle of nowhere on day three before we finally got to our first glass of Prosecco. But more on that later.
Back to bikepacking – and Italy!
Since my last bikepacking trip almost exactly a year earlier, when I cycled from Bad Tölz to Bolzano, I’d been itching to pack my gravel bike again and spend some proper time in the saddle. So it was all the more lovely not to set off alone this time, but with two of my best friends.
There’s just something magical about that moment when you first get on your fully loaded bike, with the entire trip still ahead of you: the anticipation of all those kilometres, landscapes, discoveries and encounters along the way. It’s when the endorphins really kick in. The fact that I’d only been to Sicily a few weeks earlier and was planning to cycle through Tuscany a few weeks later did nothing to dampen my enthusiasm for Italy – quite the opposite. Instead, I decided to make Italy my holiday theme for the year. A very wise decision!
From the Alps to the vineyards
In Bolzano, we hopped off the bus in the early afternoon and straight onto our bikes, heading south-east towards the Fiemme Valley. The beauty of bikepacking is that, most of the time, you can simply cycle along at your own pace all day long. On our first stage, though, we couldn’t take quite that much time, as we had around 60 km and more than 1,000 metres of climbing ahead of us and wanted to arrive before dark. Naturally, we still made time for an ice cream stop in temperatures above 35°C.
The very first stage already blew us away with its scenery. I had already cycled the lovely cycle path along the Adige out of Bolzano last year, but the Fiemme Valley also has a wonderful cycle path which winds through tiny villages, shady forests and offers lovely views across the valley.
We’d apparently done everything right with the route planning this time, too. If you mostly rely on Komoot and lack the patience (like I do) to spend hours planning and perfecting your route, things can also go wrong occasionally. Luckily, our route turned out to be really great, and, above all, incredibly varied: from the Fiemme Valley and the lush Belluno Dolomites with their dramatic rocky peaks to the rolling vineyards around laid-back, historic Vittorio Veneto, with charming discoveries along the way like the lovely mountain village of Asolo and the hip, surprisingly untouristy Bassano del Grappa. For us, it was the perfect mix of beautiful landscapes and cosy towns where you could happily spend an evening wandering around.
Punctures and Prosecco
We’d deliberately planned a few more relaxed days, so we stayed three nights in Vittorio Veneto and two in Bassano del Grappa, using both as bases for day rides. I was particularly grateful for that when a snapped gear cable and closed bike shops meant I could only use the middle gears for two days.
And yes, naturally, I was also the one who got the second puncture. At the end of our first wonderful loop from Vittorio Veneto, my rear tyre suddenly went flat. We were just above Rolle, a tiny and cute but sleepy village, and I – the designated bike-tools specialist – had a pump with me that decided to give up just after a few strokes.
So there we stood by the side of the road, mildly clueless, already imagining ourselves pushing our bikes the remaining 15 km home in the dark. Thanks to Kathi, we were spared that fate: When she spotted a cyclist passing on the road below us, she didn’t hesitate and chased him on the bike. Ten minutes later, the inner tube was changed.
And as luck would have it, the little breakdown came with a rather lovely surprise. We’d done our tube-changing operation right next to a restaurant (quite possibly the only one in Rolle) and decided, on the spur of the moment, to have dinner there. We realised what a great decision this had been when we found ourselves, half an hour later, tucking into excellent pasta and sipping our first Prosecco (finalmente!), all while marvelling at a spectacular sunset overlooking the vineyards. Is there any better way to live la dolce vita? I think not!
Riding an emotional rollercoaster
A little suffering is, of course, always part of the deal – and it’s usually kind of fun, because you know there’s a beautiful descent, a coffee or a little snack waiting for you at the end of it. This time, though, I was suffering considerably more than usual because my period decided to kick in at the worst possible timing.
So, for the first few days, I spent most of my time hauling myself up the mountains on painkillers. Cycling is actually the only sport that makes my already pretty nasty period pain unbearable, and normally I stay as far away from my bikes as I can on those days. The summer heat, on the other hand, doesn’t bother me all that much. I’m not really one for complaining, however, and so I stuck to my usual motto: eyes shut and keep going.
I’m always amazed by what the body can put up with when the mind convinces it to keep going. This time, I was doubly exhausted every evening, but hey: that feeling when you’ve finished your day on the bike, throw yourself onto the bed, peel yourself out of your cycling kit, jump into a cold shower and then, with a renewed zest for life, head out for an evening stroll through the city and stumble across a cute little restaurant where you end the day – it makes all the pain, punctures and failed bike tools forgotten. That’s another thing I love about bikepacking: the constant rollercoaster between effort, a little suffering and pure enjoyment. And you have to admit, that’s pretty addictive, isn’t it?
Best friends: cycling and dolce far niente
Bikepacking in the land of dolce far niente: what might somehow sound a little contradictory at first works perfectly. Somehow, cycling seems to multiply all the happiness you already get from just being in this wonderful country: when you watch all the stunning views, take a dip in the ice-cold lake, sip a perfect little caffè and lick your pistachio ice cream with the sun on your face, or when you put that first forkful of pasta or gnocchi into your growling stomach, sipping the occasional cold glass of white wine. In between, the occasional, easy pleasant encounters with local people – a smile here, a brief chat there.
And then there are these endless evening strolls, shaking the kilometres out of your legs while exploring tiny alleys and cute bars and doing some serious people-watching. Somehow, all of it is even more enjoyable when you’ve got a few dozen kilometres in your legs.
And it’s not that we count calories, but when else can you tuck into as many carbs as possible in as little time as possible without a second thought?
The little things are the best things
What we might not always manage in everyday life suddenly becomes very easy when bikepacking: finding joy in the little things.
You’re much more attentive and present, and naturally notice much more when you’re constantly outside and in contact with nature and the people who live there. After trips like this, I always promise myself to make more room for these moments in everyday life, too. Because even though I consider myself a fairly mindful person, there are plenty of days when my head is busy thinking about a thousand things at once – and, paradoxically, exactly when I would need them most, I don’t leave room for these little pauses and moments of enjoyment. Or perhaps I simply don’t allow myself to have them.
A little more ‘bikepacking slowness’ in everyday life
You always take home a little more from a bikepacking trip than just countless new impressions and memories. For me, such trips are always little journeys of self-discovery, on which I learn new things about myself (and, of course, about the people I travel with). The harder part is actually putting what I’ve learnt into practice. And that’s exactly what I’m taking away from this beautiful trip: bringing a little more bikepacking slowness into my everyday life.
In short: a little more dolce far niente to make our daily life a little more dolce. I think we’d probably all do well to do that.
If you want to ride it yourself
The route
These were our eight stages (you can find the Komoot routes clicking on the links).
Day 1: Bolzano – Ziano di Fiemme
Day 2: Ziano di Fiemme – Vittorio Veneto
Days 3 & Day 4: Vittorio Veneto loops
Day 5: Vittorio Veneto – Bassano del Grappa
Day 6: Bassano del Grappa loop
Day 7: Bassano del Grappa – Trento
Day 8: Trento – Bolzano
Best time to go
We went at the end of May and absolutely loved it. It was already warm – or rather, properly hot –, which made packing easier. I think I actually wore my woollen vest once.
Difficulty
Our route was absolutely manageable and planned in a way that meant we never had to really stress about getting from A to B. We definitely wanted plenty of time to enjoy the journey itself – and, since one of us has this little quirk of having to stop and take a photo of every flower, we’d already budgeted an extra hour for every stage anyway. I also loved the combination of travelling from place to place while having a few days in each location to ride without luggage. I’d do it exactly this way again.