Good news - last week one of my little toe-nails (which has been absent for the last 2 or 3 months since it came off the 2nd time) grew back! Unfortunately I was completely unaware of its' return until I felt a nasty pain in the toe next to it and removed my sock at the end of the day to find it had dug a bloody hole into it. But obviously, I am very happy to welcome back a toe-nail after all this time. In other news - I am in Padua, a city 45km from Venice and finally the heat has eased a bit due to the wonder of clouds. This is my 2nd stop in Padua as I have returned here to do some planning for the next stage to Trieste and to catch up on some travelling house work (things need repairing and sewing and posting home and generally organising a bit).

And the road here from my last blog entry has kept me well entertained again. In a small town called Ospitaletto, nowhere in particular between Bergamo and Brescia, I met 6 Chinese friends who were cycling from Rome to London for the Olympics. When I came across them they were immersed in a wedding party, having photos taken with the guests outside the church in all their cycling gear - which baffled me a bit. When I read the flag they were holding up it all became a bit clearer - so I introduced myself; "hi, I see you're cycling to England - I walked here from England!". Cue more photos and even autographs in special autograph books and an exchange of contact details before we continued in our opposite directions. Me with a bemused grin on my face at such a meeting whilst partially gatecrashing someone's wedding!

The walk into and out of Brescia was some of the most industrial and trunk road filled so far, but atleast I was rewarded by my favourite gelato yet (chilli-chocolate and toffee flavours - soooo good) and a few beers with my host Filippo. The next day took me to another small town in Calcinato, where another village festa introduced me to the 'guess the height of the salami' game. Which is as literal as it sounds and if you correctly guess the height of the salami hanging on a string from a floodlight then you win ...... ? well the salami of course! My route was again heading back to the refreshing waters of the lakes, this time Lago del Garda. Not before time either as an excruciating pain was making a frequent visit to my left achilles, in the afternoons it would feel like it was ready to snap and no amount of stretching would alleviate it. (it hasn't been back since and I think it was dehydration related but I'm no doctor, I just hope it stays away)

Another 3 days lakeside was spent very lazily, the definite highlight of which was being treated to a boat trip with my host Fabio and his friend Davide. We motored out into the evening sun to play frisebee in the shallow waters infront of the Roman ruins at Sirmione, before returning as the sun was going down over the mountains. Then through the cool evening air on a scooter to another little village festa for my first taste of horsemeat, washed down with wine - it's a tough life! Back on the road again I found a beautiful little campsite on a fruit farm on the road to Verona. My pitch was surrounded by fruit heavy kiwi plants and the fields around were filled with ripening peaches. In Verona I fought through the hoards of tourists sticking momentos to the wall of Juliet's balcony with chewing gum! I don't mean to be cynical but why were all these people clamouring to visit the fictional sites of fictional characters in a fictional story? Like Disney land but with renaissance buildings. The tomb of Juliet - the grave of some one who didn't exist!? The city itself is beautiful and the view on the hill from the castle and above the roman theatre is equally so. And I couldn't have cared less about the blinkered tourists on Saturday night after quite a lot of local white wine, and a chance conversation with a gentleman who lived in St Mawes for 2 years (to which I proudly responded 'i swam there from Falmouth castle, twice!) who drank Camel Valley wine in Verona, and another man who sounded just like Homer Simpson. It was a long, heavy night that resulted in a classic hungover Sunday, complete with pizza and film in the evening. Spending the weekend with my host Stefi and her friends, again reminded me of the people I miss at home. Nothing like a hangover to knock your guard down and get you a bit homesick.

After some confusion on Monday morning (some probably still alcohol related) I found an amazingly rare thing n Italy - a cycle route! It promised to take me through the vine yards of the Soave wine region (the main culprit of Sundays hangover), over the hills to Vicenza and along the river to Padua and finally to Venice. And it has, via some tortuously long days in the baking heat and a 5 day mission-on to be in Venice for Friday. Which I succeeded at - and the prize was a huge hug with Imi next to the Canal Grande and an evening catching up with her and Brittony on their own trip round Europe. More Festa action, more wine and lots of shared travel stories later, a dip in the Canal Grande is probably quite a polluted one, but in the peace of the Venice night it was a bit special. A 'bit special' also being a very good description of how we felt when we had to say goodbye the next day at the train station :( They were heading off to Croatia (with an extra path scouting task from me for when I arrive there later in the year) and I was off to explore Venice, by day and a bit on my own again, after the huge buzz of being with friends from home after 6 months. It's a good job it is a magical city, even when sober!