(Second – and last – episode of the story of our amphibious experience as guests of GiroliberoThe first episode can be read here)
MANTUA – On the third day, we disembark in Chioggia , also known as Little Venice. Thanks to Silvia and Raffaele's always-precise historical insights, we discover that Chioggia and Venice were not such good friends in past centuries. One example is the so-called "Gato de Ciosa" (Chioggia Cat). Atop a column in the city center is the classic statue of the Lion of St. Mark, but it's so small and undersized that the Chioggia people nickname it "the cat ." That statue thus represents Chioggia's resistance (and irony) against Venetian rule.
We visit the historic center with the fish market and the clock tower , but we also discover, this time without needing external guidance, that Chioggia is the world capital of electric bikes. At every corner, very fast electric vehicles appear , whizzing by at speeds more suited to a moped than a bicycle. Where the
Group travel, but also independent travel
Leaving Chioggia, Silvia tells us that, if we want, we can also do the route in "self-guided" mode. This means, we discover, do the itinerary on your own, with all the freedom of your own pace and times, following the trail provided by Girolibero, and then meet again at the end of the journey.
Why not, we tell ourselves, after all, it's only right to try out all the possibilities of this Bike and Boat tour we're enjoying. So we leave the rest of the group and gradually head into the Po Delta towards Adria . We pedal through an exceptional ecosystem, one of Europe's most important wetlands and the only existing delta in Italy. A paradise for birdwatchers . We're not at all knowledgeable about the subject, but we still spot lots of flamingos. Unlike the previous days, we even see some flying, and at that moment they transform, almost seeming like another animal.
Without bothering with Baudelaire's albatross, because unlike it, the flamingo is elegant even when perched with its knees folded, its neck curved, and its beak curved. And yet, when flamingos take flight, they become at least twice as large, a kind of hang-glider that reveals all the bright pink of their wings , which they previously kept hidden like a secret.
The importance of a “quality” guide Girolibero"
On the fourth day, we set off from Adria toward Ferrara. We leave the Adriatic coast, which we had followed in various directions until then, and begin to enter the heart of the plain, ascending the Po, the great river . At a certain point, we have to cross a bridge, one of the very few points where the trail must necessarily cross a busy road.
Before doing so, Silvia gathers us together and explains what to do. "What's the only way to be bigger than a truck?" she asks. Then she replies: " Stay together, occupying the entire lane, so that the trucks also have to wait and we can cross the bridge safely. We'll create a critical mass ; it'll be a fun game, educational for us and for the drivers." And so we do, with her in the lead and Raffaele at the back, and in a flash we pass that bottleneck without any problems.
Anyone who travels by bike always finds themselves thinking, sooner or later, "I could really be a cycle tour guide." Well, one thing we learned on this tour is that being a guide isn't easy at all . At least, doing it the way Silvia does it.
She combines attention to technical details ("Does everyone have their own bike, with their own bag and packed lunch?") with a detailed knowledge of the history and environments we pass through . Silvia is meticulous in pointing out every curve and pothole, yet at the same time, always calm and relaxed. She's attentive to safety without being authoritarian, takes photos and videos, and coordinates every moment of the trip from breakfast to bedtime without ever being imposing. And after dinner, she even offers a gin and tonic.
The human factor, a fundamental part of slow travel
Let's say this as an example of what it means to travel with Girolibero, the kind of people who take care of every aspect of the guests' lives for a week. As written in the first episode, the crew is made up of six people, and it is soon noticed that everyone does everythingThe two chefs not only prepare a three-course dinner every evening featuring dishes from the local area (and breakfast every morning), but they also load and unload bikes, help with cleaning, and lend a hand with docking operations.
Jano, the Dutch captain of the Ave Maria, sets the table, waits on the tables, and clears them away every evening . So much so that this writer would like to take the dishes from him and carry them for him, telling him that he shouldn't be doing these things but rather standing on the quarterdeck smoking his pipe, gazing out at the infinite horizon. Another thing you quickly notice is that they're all people who love being there. Some have been on board for four weeks straight, but it's clear there's more to it than just work.
After all, you can't do a job like this, we imagine, far from the loved ones of home, without a genuine curiosity about the world and its people. And indeed, thanks to the atmosphere created by the crew, after a few days all of us, human beings of very different ages and geographical origins, feel like kids at a campsite . We eat side by side every evening, and from the very first night we end up telling each other about our lives on dry land.
Between museums, cities of art and special greetings
But the last few days didn't just involve cycling along the banks of the mighty Po River . Along the way, we visited a huge dairy farm in the province of Rovigo where Grana Padano is produced, a former clam fisherman's house, now a blue crab fisherman's house, and the surprising Giostra Museum in Bergantino , in the Alto Polesine area. We strolled through the center of Ferrara, tasted the endless variety of grappas and liqueurs produced by the Mantovani distillery in Pincara , and finally, on our last day, we enjoyed all the charm of Mantua, one of Italy's most beautiful art cities.
On the last evening, as we said our goodbyes, Silvia showed a film that (no one knows how) she had shot and edited during those few days . More than one person was moved, and it was anything but an inappropriate feeling. It was a final gift to make us all —those of us who had arrived somewhat by chance aboard the Ave Maria a week earlier— feel like a special group of passengers.
