Leaving Modena, we expierenced a first day of so-called bad luck. That is, it took us three hours to get out of town, and I felt slightly delirious because of the sun and limited water supplies.
“Bad luck” means that things don’t go to plan, and one of our ideas was to go to Ancona or even further South, in a region where we could see the coast without herds of tourists. We ended up some 25km North of Rimini, the hot spot of Adriatic sunbathing. More precisely, we ended up in a service station surrounded by beach resorts. A really weird person had brought us there, speaking in a version of Italian that none of us could fully understand, seemingly in lack of social contacts and possibly a bit drunk.
It was getting dark, the road was straight and fast, stopping people unsympathetic. We stayed for one or two hours while rehearsing some of the songs we’d learnt on the road, until it was fully dark. There wasn’t even a bus to Rimini where we could have gone into a hostel, and wild camping is fined in the coastal area. A bit up the road was a sign for a piadineria, a sort of street restaurant selling typical piadine, a sort of filled, solid-ish pancake. We decided that we might as well eat. The piadineria was still well frequented and we immediately felt comfortable. As we ordered two piadine with cheese and rucola, the man behind the till, Bruno, began chatting to us in his smoky voice. It was easy to see what we were up to, with our backpacks and Lina still absentmindedly holding onto the “Rimini” sign, and he had the air of someone who has dealt with everything back in the day. When we asked whether there was a campeggio nearby that was still open, he very naturally offered us space in the small playground attached to the restaurant. After deliberating over our meal, we accepted the offer and ended up sleeping in the tiny wooden hut designed for children to play in. No way to plan for the unconventional.
The next day, we invested 40 Euros of our shared travel money to take public transport for the next 150km into the mountains behind Ancona, after we were thrown out of the private beach we frequented in the morning. Since I don’t carry a swimsuit, only Lina could experience the mediterranean, but I didn’t feel like missing out. Our next station was going to be much more typical and way less touristic anyway.