     | Thursday July 3 2008 I've been known to exaggerate the heat, but the thermometer says it has been in the mid-30's in Gubbio, with significant humidity. Not like Malaysia humidity, but enough to make my clothes stick to my skin and to make my hair frizz. However, Fausto said, that should not matter. "You should ride your horse according to the conditions - the weather, the track. Last year we had 51% completion rate and it was 35*, and no major treatment of horses." The sky is clear in the mornings, but by 1 PM, thunderclouds start building somewhere in the sky. By late afternoon, there is a rainshower and thunderstorm within sound range (if you can hear thunder) or sight. Yesterday evening it suddenly got dark when the layers of clouds clashed directly overhead, whipping a cool wind through the narrow, labyrinthine streets, sending restaurant owners chasing after their blowing-away signs, and short-sleeved Gubbians running for their doorways. The lights flickered a few times, and a small half-hearted rain shower got one side of the street wet. The weather should be the same for Saturday's races. Today by afternoon, over a dozen horses, and some extra riders, had arrived at the stables. Team Argentina - Mercedes Tapia, Clara Taddeo, and Facundo Larrere arrived at the Gubbio train station; they called Fausto, who said he'd find a driver and call them back. He found the driver, but when he tried to call Mercedes back, the number had disappeared from his phone. One more headache... but, "what can I do?" Just keep working on something else - like drive to one place that is making the banners and check on their progress: they weren't quite ready yesterday as planned. The three Argentinians arrived later and were strolling about the grounds, anxiously awaiting the arrival of Jean Phillipe Frances with the horses he is bringing for them to ride. Lanal and Leonie Van Nieuwenhuizen from South Africa arrived yesterday evening, after spending a few days touring Milan, Venice and Rome; Leonie will be riding a horse of Italian veterinarian Dr Marcello on the 120 km Roman Theatre race. He is returning the favor as they supplied a horse for him to ride in South Africa. By this evening, the endurance village was almost completed: vet lanes and finish lane lined out; white picket fences up; sponsor banners lining the fences; bar/cafe prepared and chairs and tables set up; electrical power installed; sound system working. Just a few more finishing touches tomorrow morning, and we're ready to roll, with registration beginning at 10 AM, and vet inspections beginning at 3 PM. In the evening, the Park Hotel ai Cappuccini is hosing the Opening Ceremony and ride briefing, followed by a Welcome Dinner. Welcome to the 2008 Gubbio Nations Cup! |
Thursday, July 3, 2008
Countdown to Gubbio
Wednesday, July 2, 2008
Endurance Village
    | Wednesday July 2 2008 As the week progresses, the endurance village down by the old Roman Theatre continues to grow. More tents and towers are up, the nations' flags are flying, the entrance and exit gates and finish line and in-gates are up, a catering truck for the bar has arrived and begun to unload equipment. The stables are ready. The printed books will be finished this evening and ready to hand out to businesses in town. Yesterday evening, Fausto said "Come with me to get a sledgehammer." We walked halfway across the vet area and he said "No, my car is back there! We walked right past it! Why didn't you tell me!" I thought we were walking to get the sledge, but he'd intended to drive. We walked back to his car and drove across town, when suddenly he threw his hands up in the air, like he forgot something, and we turned around. Yes, indeed, he forgot to turn off at his house! "What do you call it when a man forgets his house!" I said, "Too busy!" Why on earth would someone want to take on the challenge of putting together such a big event like this? Try to find sponsors to finance it, try to put all the pieces together for 100 riders from 9 nations, over 160 km of tracks in the countryside around Gubbio. All accompanied by the headaches and worries and problems and crises and little sleep for days, for weeks on end. "Because," Fausto says, "I like the people and I love endurance, and I believe in helping the sport I love." Passion alone can't put on a ride: it can cost something close to E300,000 to put a ride like this on. Main sponsors for the ride this year are the Dubai Equestrian Club, Colacem, and the lovely Park Hotel Ai Cappuccini where I'm staying. Fausto is always looking for ways to make the race better, and he's always looking for more sponsors, and he's grateful for, and lucky to have, many family members, friends, and businesses who are helping out in all aspects. The endurance village, when it's finished, will be decorated with plants and flowers; and two mounted cabinieri will be present for the prize-giving. What Fausto would really like is to have 300 mounted cabinieri present for Opening Ceremonies. "Maybe next year - it will take me a year to organize it!" And more sponsors to finance it. (Think of it - hotels and stables for 300 more people...). Sounds like a show worthy of a European Championship... |
Exploring Gubbio
    | Tuesday July 1 2008 In some of these old preserved medieval towns in Europe, like Assisi and Gubbio, if you look, you can find some old historic trails that too many tourists don't seem to find and that people these days don't seem to use. I went into the old part of the town, where the ancient walls beckoned from up high. I found a road that wound up and up, that eventually led me right up to some remains of the old walls. A barricade across the road said No passagio - and I wasn't sure if that was for cars or people, so I turned back. But, in so doing, I spied a small, barely used trail, but definitely a trail, leading up behind the old wall, and below a no-trespassing orchard. So I followed it, the way partially covered by grass and blackberry vines. It led along behind the old city wall - its defense and sight holes still intact - for a ways before the trail became way too overgrown to attempt to pass in sandals. So I turn around, and as I backtracked, I ran my hand along the ancient walls - I always have to touch these old structures. I used to do rock work for the Forest Service - building steps and walls in the mountains... but my walls were at the most 10 feet long and 5 layers high, not 3 miles long and 2 feet thick and 40 feet high. I know what a pain in the butt it is to fetch rocks to build a small wall, from further away the higher you build. We fetched all our rocks by hand. Maybe the ancients used horses. Maybe they didn't. It was still all built by hand; at some point a human had to lift, carry, and place each single stone in the proper position - and sometimes you go through 5 or 6 rocks before one fits just right, or you have to shape one with your 5 lb hammer or geo pick or sledge hammer, and then you bust it in the process and have to start all over. And you're bound to smash a finger or toe along the way. I'm fascinated by these massive old walls and buildings, and I can feel the hard work and sweat and blood that went into everything. There are at least 30 old centuries-old palaces and churches you can visit in Gubbio, with any number of ornate altars, tombs, preserved frescoes, and preserved saints to view. The bells clanging and bonging from the churches below the city walls at noon are an aural extravaganza. At the other end of the town, the Ranghiasci Park rises to meet the old city walls under shady maples and oaks and chestnut trees. Above these walls runs an old aqueduct that is still, some 2000 years later, being used. I haven't figured out how to get up to that yet. |
Raising Gubbio
Monday June 30 2008
I don't think Fausto has stopped moving since he dropped me off at the train station on Saturday (or, rather, since before he picked me up for the first time at the train station on Thursday before that). He drove out of the way to the Gubbio train station to pick me up again from my visit to the Marramas, in the midst of another crisis - there was some sort of weekend strike that stopped transport traffic, and it affected the transport of his stables he has to build. Now he's scrambling to get all the materials he needs, and he must use a different design. "People won't notice - the stables will still be good - but I will know it's not the best I had planned."
On the way to my room at the Park Hotel Ai Cappuccini, we stop briefly by the vet gate/endurance village area by the Roman Theatre, where a few more tents and towers have gone up over the weekend. Matteo and another young man are still busy at work there, and Fausto discusses some things with them while answering his phone - constantly his phone rings. He's constantly hopping in his car to go here and pick this up or drop that off, going there to talk with yet another person or company who is helping him with this ride. "It helps when you know many people!" Those many people include friends and family.
Then Fausto has an interview with a television station that he must change clothes and clean up for, then he has to change clothes again so he can go shoe some more horses at his stable, and then... and then...
The work never stops for a ride organizer or ride manager, and the countdown to the event never slows down.
Tuesday, July 1, 2008
Trapped II
Saturday-Sunday June 28-29 2008
SATURDAY:
Always an adventure, always an education, the Italian trains.
I'm headed to another little Italian town of Popoli. Three trains to get there. The first train to Ancona is 14 minutes late - and I have, on a good time schedule, 10 minutes to catch my second train. When I get to Ancona, we have made up 12 minutes - which makes me only 2 minutes late... and I jump off the first train, and run down the stairs and up the stairs to the track that has the waiting train - must be mine - but that wasn't it. The second train to Pescale Centrale is also late. Like 45 minutes later.
Hrmph - ran and got all out of breath and sweaty for nothing, and it IS very hot here.
With my second train to Pescale being 45 minutes late, that means for SURE I'll miss the third train which leaves half an hour after I would normally arrive, and that means I will have to call Adriano Marrama, who's picking me up, after I figure out which train and what new time I'll be arriving in Popoli.
The second train finally comes in all its 45-minutes-late gloriousness, we get on, and it takes about an hour to get to Pescale Centrale. We make up a lot of time. My third train leaves at 6 PM. We pull into the Pescale station at 5:59 PM. I just happen to have written down all the stops, so I know when Pescale is coming up, so I am right at the doors, ready to jump off the train - and I check ahead of time to know which doors open which direction. (I'm OK on this train - they both open).
Well. As I jump off the train, there is one other train waiting on another track, and that MUST be my train to Popoli where I'm going - right? Must be. As I start running for the stairs, the clock jumps to 6:00. Crap! I fly down the stairs, and run through the tunnel to the next track, and run, up the stairs, with my heavy suitcase and heavy backpack and computer. I run toward a door where some people are jumping onto the train. "Does this train go to Popoli?" I ask them. They shrug - it makes many stops.
I see train conductors toward the front of the train - about 5 cars down. I start running toward them, (still with all my heavy luggage, mind you) and realize I will never make it - I need to be by a door if they start to shut. The men are too far away to yell and ask. Crap! I see a schedule board and run towards it. 6 PM - that's 18:00... my ticket says the train leaves at 18:00... I see 18:06... scan the stops - Popoli is not on there... 18:13 is next... not my stops - this can't be right - crap! I'm looking at "arrivals"!
I run around to the other side of the board, see "Departures" - find 18:00 - Yes! One departs at 18:00! Popoli is listed! Leaving from track 4! I run back to this train - wait - is this track 4?? - whistle blows, doors click, I leap on - leap on, mind you, with my heavy suitcase (which is now far heavier than 17 kilos) trailing behind me, and the doors close on my suitcase and I yank it in and the train pulls out. My heart is slamming (I haven't had much exercise lately, and it's freaking hot!), and I am drenched in sweat, and I am not completely sure I am on the correct train! This was track four, but that's all I know right now.
Nevertheless, I am going somewhere, so I roll into the air conditioned car and flop down in a messy pile, and I hear the stops being announced - and yes, my stop is called, I am on the right train! Whew! Which turned out to be a good thing, I realized later - I had Adriano's number to call, but he doesn't speak a word of English, and I don't speak a word of Italian! I couldn't have told him I was catching another train and when I'd be arriving - although I did learn a very valuable - and common - word referring to Italian trains: "retirado" - late!
SUNDAY:
I'm headed back to Gubbio. Three trains.
So far so good - the first one left more or less on time for Pescale, although I have a whopper of a headache, because I did not get any coffee this morning. I don't care WHAT time the next train is to the next stop of Ancona - I am not going to do anything until I have a cappuchino at the station! I have to buy my onward tickets anyway, so I will make the time for one or two.
We arrive at Pescale Centrale, and it is big enough to have a bar serving rolls and cappuchinos. Great! I have one.
Now, I need to use the WC. There is one next to the bar, and it costs E.50. So, I go to the door, put my E.50 cents in, and the green light comes on - and the door doesn't open. Huh? I push it, I pull it, I try to slide it - and the red light comes on. Finished. What the hell!? OK, I'm not trying this again until I see somebody else do it!
Instead, I go to buy a train ticket onward, (two more trains) and, no, I don't want the train that leaves in 3 minutes, I want the next one - 30 minutes later - which gives me time for using the WC and having another cappuchino! I buy my ticket, then go back to the bar/WC area, and hang around. I hope nobody notices me stalking the bathroom - I pretend I am just waiting at the cafe - and finally I see two women go to the WC. You put your money in, and when the green light comes on, you PUSH ON THE DOOR - (I swear I did that) and you go in. Fine.
I have another cappuchino, and I go to the WC. I put my E.50 in, the green light comes on, I push on the door, it opens, I enter. No problem this time! There's a second door. I push it - and - nothing! It won't open! WHAT THE HELL!? I push on the door again - NOTHING! I start to panic and try the door behind me that I just came in - NOTHING! I am trapped between doors to the bathroom - can't go in, can't go out and I've already paid E1! AHH!
Two ladies are coming to the adjacent doors to exit, and they look at me like I'm a retarded foreigner - which I am, because I CAN'T GET OUT! HELP! They pass through their doors, still looking at me funny. Well - I can either stand here till somebody else strolls along to the bathroom - and what are they going to do - pay to get through the first door and get stuck in here with me? - or I can get down on my belly and crawl under the door into the bathroom (I'm not crawling back out, because I want in the bathroom!) So, I lay my suitcase down, take off my backpack and computer, and shove them under the door, just as another woman is coming to exit the other doors, looking at me, of course, as if I'm too cheap to pay E.50 to use the WC. I crawl on my hands and knees - is this not the ultimate humiliation? into the bathroom, use it, thank you very much... then have to face going back out - through the double doors next to the ones that trapped me. Oh, help!
I take a deep breath and dive through the first one... and try the second one - and it DOES NOT OPEN!!!! I wait, think, no, this really is not happening, and I try the second door again, and this time, it opens to let me out.
After that, I deserved one more cappuchino (really had a headache now), then went to wait for, then get on, my next train.
Now, here's a few words on the Italian trains. When a train pulls into a station, you never know exactly (1) how many cars there will be, (2) where the train will come to a stop in the station (in the middle? down at this end? Closer to that end? Will I have to run?), (3) where your second class (unreserved) car will be in the scheme of things, and (4) how much time you have to stroll alongside the train looking for a car you can get on before the doors slam shut and you missed the train. Sometimes the train sits in the station for 20 minutes (late) or sometimes it's less than a minute. It's best to run as far down the train as you can, then pick a door and pile on a car, any car, and sort things out later - which I did on this train.
I ended up getting a little anxious, piling on with many other somewhat anxious people (apparently the Italians have not exactly figured out (1), (2), (3), or (4) yet either), and so, I found myself, with many other people and their luggage, between 2 reserved 2nd class cabin cars. Which meant, if I wanted to make my way down train cars to find a 2nd class coach with a seat that I paid for - it would be like climbing several Mount Everests of people and suitcases in the aisles - who also had seats in the same cars I did and saw the effort as too overwhelming. So, I just stayed in the vestibule - which was fine by me, as it was air conditioned - as did a few other travellers. It worked until the food cart came by and I had to squeeze in a corner, but other than that, it was a pleasant way to pass 1 1/2 hours by train.
The good thing about the Italian trains is - they do get you where you are going (eventually), - sometimes with a bit of extra effort. And while you might get trapped in the bathrooms, at least the bigger stations ARE a good place to get a cheap cappuchino to console yourself with - once you get untrapped from the bathrooms.
SATURDAY:
Always an adventure, always an education, the Italian trains.
I'm headed to another little Italian town of Popoli. Three trains to get there. The first train to Ancona is 14 minutes late - and I have, on a good time schedule, 10 minutes to catch my second train. When I get to Ancona, we have made up 12 minutes - which makes me only 2 minutes late... and I jump off the first train, and run down the stairs and up the stairs to the track that has the waiting train - must be mine - but that wasn't it. The second train to Pescale Centrale is also late. Like 45 minutes later.
Hrmph - ran and got all out of breath and sweaty for nothing, and it IS very hot here.
With my second train to Pescale being 45 minutes late, that means for SURE I'll miss the third train which leaves half an hour after I would normally arrive, and that means I will have to call Adriano Marrama, who's picking me up, after I figure out which train and what new time I'll be arriving in Popoli.
The second train finally comes in all its 45-minutes-late gloriousness, we get on, and it takes about an hour to get to Pescale Centrale. We make up a lot of time. My third train leaves at 6 PM. We pull into the Pescale station at 5:59 PM. I just happen to have written down all the stops, so I know when Pescale is coming up, so I am right at the doors, ready to jump off the train - and I check ahead of time to know which doors open which direction. (I'm OK on this train - they both open).
Well. As I jump off the train, there is one other train waiting on another track, and that MUST be my train to Popoli where I'm going - right? Must be. As I start running for the stairs, the clock jumps to 6:00. Crap! I fly down the stairs, and run through the tunnel to the next track, and run, up the stairs, with my heavy suitcase and heavy backpack and computer. I run toward a door where some people are jumping onto the train. "Does this train go to Popoli?" I ask them. They shrug - it makes many stops.
I see train conductors toward the front of the train - about 5 cars down. I start running toward them, (still with all my heavy luggage, mind you) and realize I will never make it - I need to be by a door if they start to shut. The men are too far away to yell and ask. Crap! I see a schedule board and run towards it. 6 PM - that's 18:00... my ticket says the train leaves at 18:00... I see 18:06... scan the stops - Popoli is not on there... 18:13 is next... not my stops - this can't be right - crap! I'm looking at "arrivals"!
I run around to the other side of the board, see "Departures" - find 18:00 - Yes! One departs at 18:00! Popoli is listed! Leaving from track 4! I run back to this train - wait - is this track 4?? - whistle blows, doors click, I leap on - leap on, mind you, with my heavy suitcase (which is now far heavier than 17 kilos) trailing behind me, and the doors close on my suitcase and I yank it in and the train pulls out. My heart is slamming (I haven't had much exercise lately, and it's freaking hot!), and I am drenched in sweat, and I am not completely sure I am on the correct train! This was track four, but that's all I know right now.
Nevertheless, I am going somewhere, so I roll into the air conditioned car and flop down in a messy pile, and I hear the stops being announced - and yes, my stop is called, I am on the right train! Whew! Which turned out to be a good thing, I realized later - I had Adriano's number to call, but he doesn't speak a word of English, and I don't speak a word of Italian! I couldn't have told him I was catching another train and when I'd be arriving - although I did learn a very valuable - and common - word referring to Italian trains: "retirado" - late!
SUNDAY:
I'm headed back to Gubbio. Three trains.
So far so good - the first one left more or less on time for Pescale, although I have a whopper of a headache, because I did not get any coffee this morning. I don't care WHAT time the next train is to the next stop of Ancona - I am not going to do anything until I have a cappuchino at the station! I have to buy my onward tickets anyway, so I will make the time for one or two.
We arrive at Pescale Centrale, and it is big enough to have a bar serving rolls and cappuchinos. Great! I have one.
Now, I need to use the WC. There is one next to the bar, and it costs E.50. So, I go to the door, put my E.50 cents in, and the green light comes on - and the door doesn't open. Huh? I push it, I pull it, I try to slide it - and the red light comes on. Finished. What the hell!? OK, I'm not trying this again until I see somebody else do it!
Instead, I go to buy a train ticket onward, (two more trains) and, no, I don't want the train that leaves in 3 minutes, I want the next one - 30 minutes later - which gives me time for using the WC and having another cappuchino! I buy my ticket, then go back to the bar/WC area, and hang around. I hope nobody notices me stalking the bathroom - I pretend I am just waiting at the cafe - and finally I see two women go to the WC. You put your money in, and when the green light comes on, you PUSH ON THE DOOR - (I swear I did that) and you go in. Fine.
I have another cappuchino, and I go to the WC. I put my E.50 in, the green light comes on, I push on the door, it opens, I enter. No problem this time! There's a second door. I push it - and - nothing! It won't open! WHAT THE HELL!? I push on the door again - NOTHING! I start to panic and try the door behind me that I just came in - NOTHING! I am trapped between doors to the bathroom - can't go in, can't go out and I've already paid E1! AHH!
Two ladies are coming to the adjacent doors to exit, and they look at me like I'm a retarded foreigner - which I am, because I CAN'T GET OUT! HELP! They pass through their doors, still looking at me funny. Well - I can either stand here till somebody else strolls along to the bathroom - and what are they going to do - pay to get through the first door and get stuck in here with me? - or I can get down on my belly and crawl under the door into the bathroom (I'm not crawling back out, because I want in the bathroom!) So, I lay my suitcase down, take off my backpack and computer, and shove them under the door, just as another woman is coming to exit the other doors, looking at me, of course, as if I'm too cheap to pay E.50 to use the WC. I crawl on my hands and knees - is this not the ultimate humiliation? into the bathroom, use it, thank you very much... then have to face going back out - through the double doors next to the ones that trapped me. Oh, help!
I take a deep breath and dive through the first one... and try the second one - and it DOES NOT OPEN!!!! I wait, think, no, this really is not happening, and I try the second door again, and this time, it opens to let me out.
After that, I deserved one more cappuchino (really had a headache now), then went to wait for, then get on, my next train.
Now, here's a few words on the Italian trains. When a train pulls into a station, you never know exactly (1) how many cars there will be, (2) where the train will come to a stop in the station (in the middle? down at this end? Closer to that end? Will I have to run?), (3) where your second class (unreserved) car will be in the scheme of things, and (4) how much time you have to stroll alongside the train looking for a car you can get on before the doors slam shut and you missed the train. Sometimes the train sits in the station for 20 minutes (late) or sometimes it's less than a minute. It's best to run as far down the train as you can, then pick a door and pile on a car, any car, and sort things out later - which I did on this train.
I ended up getting a little anxious, piling on with many other somewhat anxious people (apparently the Italians have not exactly figured out (1), (2), (3), or (4) yet either), and so, I found myself, with many other people and their luggage, between 2 reserved 2nd class cabin cars. Which meant, if I wanted to make my way down train cars to find a 2nd class coach with a seat that I paid for - it would be like climbing several Mount Everests of people and suitcases in the aisles - who also had seats in the same cars I did and saw the effort as too overwhelming. So, I just stayed in the vestibule - which was fine by me, as it was air conditioned - as did a few other travellers. It worked until the food cart came by and I had to squeeze in a corner, but other than that, it was a pleasant way to pass 1 1/2 hours by train.
The good thing about the Italian trains is - they do get you where you are going (eventually), - sometimes with a bit of extra effort. And while you might get trapped in the bathrooms, at least the bigger stations ARE a good place to get a cheap cappuchino to console yourself with - once you get untrapped from the bathrooms.
Riding With The Italian Champion!
          | Saturday June 28 2008 Or, Raven Rides Italy! Here I am again, gallivanting off to another endurance family, who are welcoming me into their midst. I don't know them, and they don't know me, but Fausto has arranged it, so off I go. After 3 train changes and a bit of adventure, I got off in the little village of Popoli - I'm not sure if you'll find that on too many maps - in the Abruzzi region (in the center) of Italy. It's in the foothills of some surrounding mountains that provide plenty of skiing in the winter, and plenty of horseback riding activities and hiking in the summer. A few people got off the train here with me, and there was only one person waiting at the station: Adriano Marrama. He didn't speak English, and my only Italian words are those that happen to be the same as the few Spanish words I know - in other words, it was hopeless. We tried and tried to communicate, but other than the weather, and scenery, it was pretty hopeless and we just laughed at each other. Adriano's 22-year-old daughter Chiara just won the 160 km Italian Championship in Assisi a few weeks ago, on one of the 52 horses (!) in Adriano's endurance stable, I Cavalieri dell'Antera. **Author's note: There is controversy surrounding this, as I understand it: Chiara was the first to arrive at the finish but was declared to have made a mistake on course, as did several others. Chiara and some of the other riders contend that one area of the course was not marked, nor were there any officials to point the way. Simona Garatti was declared the official winner, but perhaps this is still in contention. ** Adriano took me to the Albergo (hotel) Moretto in Pratola, owned by his sister Bruna and his niece Annamaria, who welcomed me and plied me with pizza and beer - very welcome after the challenging train rides! Adriano left me there to go take care of horse business, then came back at 10 PM to pick me up and take me to dinner with daughter Chiara and her boyfriend, and daughter Marinella and her husband Jean Felice. It was a loud Saturday night crowd at the restaurant - a typical European Saturday evening dinner - and it wasn't till 11 PM that the others arrived, after a long day at a "pony endurance ride" with one of the youngsters they teach. After a filling dinner, Adriano dropped me back at the hotel around midnight, with instructions from Chiara - be ready at 8 AM, with your riding clothes on! Sunday June 29 Woohoo - I unpacked from the bottom of my suitcase the helmet and chaps I've lugged around for 4 weeks (and for 5 weeks, on the trip before this one) and put them on! Adriano picked me up at 9, and we were off to his I Cavalieri dell'Antera stables! Adriano started his stable 20 years ago for trekking. Five years later when his daughter Marinella started endurance riding, it became primarily an endurance stable. Chiara did her first short endurance ride when she was 11 years old. Now, it's a very busy stable, to say the least, with, between the three of them and one groom, horse trekking (with Adriano), endurance riding and training (with Chiara), and lessons and handicapped riding (with Marinella). In November they will begin building a hotel higher up in the hills - in the middle of their olive orchards - for an agriturismi (farm-stay) accomodation, which will fit in nicely with the trekking business. Horse pictures and paintings by children decorate the walls of the snack bar area, as do numerous endurance trophies the family has collected over the years. Chiara and Adriano saddled up horses for 4 of us, and Paulo from Rome accompanied us on his huge Hannoverian gelding, for a ride in the Italian countryside - a first for the Raven and me! It's easy to see why Chiara, at such a youthful age, attained the title of Italian champion. First and foremost, she cares for her horses and enjoys each of them - "they are like children. Each one is different. I love riding them all!" She's very concerned about their well-being, and very aware of the need to take the time for the development of the whole horse - muscles, bones, metabolics, and the mind, especially their mind. (The mare on which she won on at Assissi will probably have the rest of the year off to relax). You can go fast on a horse, she says, but you have to go step by step to get there. She very much respects her sister Marinella and her knowledge and horsemanship, and she aspires to be more like her! Chiara may ride fast in races when the horse is ready, but like many other top stables around the world I've visited, she doesn't regularly train hard and fast. She knows it's good, for the body and the mind of the horse, just to go out and have an easy hack or just walk, to let the horse know it's okay to take your time and relax. We had a lovely 90 minute ride through the rich green countryside of Italy, with my mount being a 4-year-old mare that Adriano predicts will be another Italian champion. I had to agree that this mare was pretty nice at this stage... After the pleasant ride I had lunch at the house with the family. And when I say family lunch, I mean Family Lunch: Mom, Dad, two sisters, husband of sister, Grandma, and Auntie Marianna, who kept piling food on my plate because I'm so skinny. She wanted to fatten me up in this one meal. We had piles of fresh salad, vegetables, and fruit from the abundant garden out the front door. Marianna would spoon one helping on my plate, then another "Due?" "No! No due!" I'd say, and she'd plop the 2nd helping on my plate anywy. Of everything! I'd surrender - there was no arguing. "OK, due!" "Tre?" "No three!" Which meant, by the end of lunch, I was so full I could hardly move from the table. They asked if I needed a nap? They would take me to the hotel to rest. Oh, no, I didn't think I needed a nap. Marianna took me back to the hotel anyway - stopping to show me a little scenic mountain canyon sanctuary on the way - and of course I fell asleep at the hotel. Adriano returned at 5 PM and picked me up and took me back to the stables, for another ride! The weather had actually turned pleasant - instead of blazing heat, the sun was obscured behind clouds - there were even little rain showers around, and possible thunder clouds! - and there was a very nice breeze. This time I got to ride a mare that Chiara will probably ride in Gubbio (I wanted to say, "Wait! Are you sure?!"), and I went out with Adriano and another man, on a different track, hard and soft dirt roads past rolling fields and olive orchards. This mare was also quite nice; we walked at first, then had a good climb at a trot or canter, before coming to a paved road. We followed this into a regional park full of people walking and biking, and where there was a little bar - and we parked our horses and went and had a drink! Chin chin! We toasted. "Interval training," said Adriano - work the horses, give them a rest, (and us a beer), ride them back. After our refreshing break, we mounted up and rode back home, walking all the way. You could tell the horses enjoyed the outing - they were willing and strong on the way out, and willing and relaxed, moving out, on the walk back. Adriano made me laugh because he was always on his cell phone - sometimes two of them! The mare was quite pleasant, as was the scenery and the cool breeze, as was riding in Italy! I told Adriano it was beautiful here, but he said in Italian - and I understood - if I thought this was pretty, I have to come back and go trekking up into the mountains - it is stunning up there. Chiara confirmed it - and confirmed I have to come back and see it! We got back at 8:30 PM and I had dinner with the family and more friends again. This time, Mom Francisca took over the piling of my plate, and didn't take no for an answer. I think I did pick up a few pounds this weekend! The friends took me back home to the hotel, where, after a hard day's work - two huge meals and two great horseback rides with a new family in Italy - I fell into a sound deep sleep. Monday June 30 The Marramas put me on the train back to Gubbio in the morning - after racing all over the place looking to buy a ticket for me, then refusing payment - and all I had for a thank you, after the great rides and great hospitality, was two words, a heartfelt Thank You! Happily, I'd see them again in two days in Gubbio at the Nations Cup. |
Italy: Gubbio Endurance
     | ITALY: GUBBIO ENDURANCE Saturday June 28 2008 It's not just a love for endurance horses and riding, or his enjoyment of organizing rides, or his love of his hometown of Gubbio and his desire to share its history and beauty and show it off to the world that causes Fausto Fiorucci to go to the time, trouble, and expense of putting on an international endurance ride. It's also his passion to widen the popularity of endurance in Italy and make it more accessible to more riders, and to elevate the profile of the sport and introduce a larger public. In 1998 his Faula Arabs stable joined an association with the city of Gubbio - hence 'Faula Arabs Gubbio' - to make Gubbio a center of excellence for endurance in Italy, and around the world. With endurance it's possible to blend sport, culture, history, and tourism together, and perhaps there is no better place in Italy than Gubbio in which to take advantage of this. While the city of Gubbio has long been famous for its archaeological history (traces of prehistoric settlements from the Paleolithic times have been found; Gubbio was an ally of Rome as early as the 3rd century BC), its numerous well-preserved medieval churches, city walls and Roman theatre, and its festivals (Procession of the Dead Christ on Good Friday, The Race of the "Ceri" on May 15th, the "Palio della Balestra" - Crossbow Festival in May, and the biggest Christmas Tree in the World), as a recent development - since 2003 - Endurance Gubbio has developed into one of the most significant events in the city. And it's not just another endurance race in Europe, but a CEIO Nations Cup. It's like the European or World Football Championships (by the way, Spain just won the European Football Championship on Sunday) - a cup for endurance riding nations to compete in. This is the future of endurance, Fausto believes: a way to involve more than just individual endurance competitors, by developing a strong team sport, encouraging larger national teams, and thereby providing more riders to compete against each other. Instead of one main goal each year - the European or World Endurance Championship - there are several CEIOs for which to constantly prepare and develop teams for. In addition, the Nations Cup rides "promote solidarity and dialogue between nations" - they are venues from which to share and learn from each other - and to cast an eye toward future participation of endurance as an Olympic sport. Each country may establish a single CEIO which takes the name of the country putting it on; and at the end of the year, a final order of placing on the circuit is calculated. This year there are four CEIO Nations rides: Belgium, France, Gubbio, and Portugal; and next year England will also have one. Riders must be chosen by their federations to participate in the Nations Cup rides. The vet gates and finish for the Gubbio Nations Cup - it's now a fixed trail, marked by permanent wooden signposts - (and the 120 km and 93 km rides) on Saturday are right beside the remains of the Roman Theatre (built in the 1st century BC to accommodate 16,000 spectators), with a splendid picturesque view of the ancient city of Gubbio spread out on the hillside above. |
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