This was to be a ride of contrasts.
I planned to take the train from Lucca north up into the Gafangnana, then climb westward over the Alpi Apuane.
My route would then take me down to the Ligurean Sea before passing through the resorts on the coast and finally climbing back over the hills to Lucca.
At Lucca's station I discovered that a train ticket to Castelnuovo di Gafangnana would cost me 3.40 Euros ... and 3.50 Euros for my bike.
The train journey avoids the main road up the Serchio valley ... and as a bonus takes you up to nearly 300 metres above sea level.
Castelnuovo's railway station is just outside town ... on the far side of the Fiume Serchio.
I crossed the emerald waters of the river and explored the quiet back streets of the town.
The centre of the town is dominated by the walls fourteenth century Rocca Ariostesca.
Eventually I couldn't postpone starting the climb any longer.
I crossed the Torrente Turrite Secca ... which I would follow for some 20 kilometres up into the Alpi Apuane.
The road signs indicated that Forte dei Marni on the coast was 42 kilometres ahead. The first half this distance would be spent climbing ... and the second half descending.
Torrite just outside Castelnuovo was the first village I passed through on the ascent ... and almost the last.
A short distance beyond the village a pair of giant pipes ran down the hillside to a hydroelectric facility.
There were several quarries in the lower part of the valley ... and lorries were passing in both directions ... carrying either ballast or heavy and expensive looking blocks of marble.
Fortunately this traffic subsided the higher I climbed.
As well as the modern quarries there was much evidence of older workings ... with abandoned huts ... and sluices and waterfalls alongside the road.
As the road twisted and climbed into the Alpi Apuane I could catch glimpses of snow on the peaks ahead ... and at one point I passed through an avalanche shelter.
Just over halfway up the climb the valley opened up a little and I arrived at the dam forming a lake below the village of Isola Santa.
Alongside the dam is a noticeboard showing a panorama of the view ahead ... marked up with some of the many footpaths which criss-cross the Parco Naturale.
The village belies its name (Holly Island) ... the church and most of the houses sit on a premonitory jutting into the lake.
From the road the church is reflected in the lake ... and presents a dramatic view with the mountains behind.
Until recently the village had been abandoned ... but now it is gradually being restored with a small restaurant open and a number of houses for rent.
The road climbs around the lake and village and looking down on the houses I was struck by the slate roofs ... a real contrast with the red tiles prevalent throughout the rest of Tuscany.
Above the lake a minor road turns north and heads across the grain of the mountains towards Careggine. I continued to follow the Turrite Secca westward.
I also passed an aerial ropeway running up to the flank of Monte Freddone ... the wire looked to be slightly rusty but otherwise serviceable.
Hidden in the mountains above is an ancient village of stone huts ... called Puntato ... which was once used by charcoal burners and chestnut collectors.
One of these huts has been converted into a walker's hut ... Refugio la Quiete. I wonder if the ropeway is used to service this hut?
I was slightly puzzled to pass a sign saying Stazzema ... which as far as I could see was a village on the other side of the mountain.
The area has declared itself a commune antitransgenico ... against transgenic crops. I wondered whether the food advertised on the road 2 kilometres ahead would be free from genetically modified material.
Ahead the snow white southern flank of Monte Sumbra gleamed in the sunlight.
As I climbed the scenery became increasing rocky ... the road squeezed through cuttings, crossed arched bridges and was carved into the side of the mountain.
I next reached the Tre Fiumi tunnel ... the first of many on this route. Like most of the others there were no lights in the tunnel.
Emerging from the tunnel I arrived in the small settlement of Tre Fiumi.
I could only see two rivers ... the Freddone and Turrite Secca ... and the promised restaurant was closed.
Also closed was the Hen Aux quarry ... which was occupied by a lone mountain goat.
At Tre Fiume a road turns off to Massa but I continued straight on for the final climb towards the Cipollaio tunnel.
The Galleria del Cipollaio is over one kilometre long ... from the entrance I couldn't see the far end ... and although it is illuminated by faint orange lights ... I chose to get out my flashing LED lights.
The walls of the tunnel were rough hewn rock ... and throughout its length water was dripping from the roof. Half way through I discovered that you could see both ends ... I guess the tunnel must have a slight bend in the middle.
Emerging back into daylight a dramatic vista unfolds ...
Directly ahead the ground falls away down the Giardino valley ... to the left the road contours around the Criniera di Fornoli ... and to the right the side of Giardino mountain is bisected by a brilliant white gash of an enormous quarry.
A dramatic zig-zag track finds its way through these quarry workings.
After soaking up the view for a while ... I put on my wind proof jacket and then set off on the 20 kilometre descent down to the sea ...
... well someone's got to do it.
The road descends gradually ... passing through a series of tunnels ... none of which were illuminated.
I paused before each one ... checking to make sure that a quarry truck wasn't about to overtake.
The valley was the scene of an appalling massacre during the Second World War.
Five hundred and seventy people mainly women, children and old people were killed in Stazzema's piazza on 12 August 1944.
The massacre was a reprisal towards the Italian people who had helped the Partisans.
After the war the area was awarded Italy's highest decoration ... the medaglia d'oro al valour militaire.
Just beyond Terrinca I came across a giant yellow framed saw.
The saw was steadily cutting through a large block of marble.
Water was being pumped over the marble to lubricate the blade ... but what surprised me was that no one was around.
The road descended into the Vezza valley before turning a full 180° at Pontestazzemesa to follow the river towards the sea.
Alongside the Fiume Vezza the scenery becomes increasingly industrialised.
Most of the factories seemed to be associated with the stone trade.
Just beyond Ruosina I passed a turn off to Gallena which was the site of a silver mine.
Galena is now the name given to a mineral form of lead sulphide which is often found in association with quantities of silver.
Alongside the Fiume Vezza the gradient slackens considerably.
In Seravezza which is only some 50 metres above sea level the river is contained within stone and concrete walls ... I imagine it must be a fearsome sight after heavy rain.
Below the settlement the river and road wind their way through a notch in the coastal hills to arrive at the coastal plain alongside the Mare Ligure.
It was now a flat ride through the suburbs to the beachside resort of Forte dei Marmi.
The square of the town, set back from the sea, was full of bustle ... and the cafes and restaurants were doing a good lunchtime trade ...
... in complete contrast the sea front and pier were almost completely deserted.
In Forte dei Marmi I turned to follow the coast road southward along the coast past rows and rows of bars, private clubs and private stretches of beach.
At intervals there were public paths down to the sea ...
... and I followed one of these to have lunch on the beach ... which I had all to myself.
After lunch I continued southward ... following the bike path which runs alongside the main road.
Groups of racing cyclists swooshed past at intervals ... all of them riding on the road.
In Marina di Pietrasanta I passed a memorial to 9/11 which consisted of two tall blocks of marble ... presumably echoing the form of the twin towers.
In the next resort Lido di Camaiore I turned away from the sea to climb over the hills back towards Lucca.
The minor road ducked under the A12 Autostrada and then crossed the main rail line.
Well my map showed a crossing ... but this had been closed and a fence erected in its place ... unclear how to get around I climbed over the fence and dashed over the line.
After the excitement of the rail crossing I started the gentle climb alongside the Fiume Camaiore.
The first part of the route was overlooked by the church of Santa Lucia standing on top of steep knoll ... which itself was overlooked by the brooding mass of Monte Gabberi.
The road was lined on both sides with regularly spaced trees ... and before long I arrived at the small town of Camaiore.
The first sight that greeted my eye in Camaiore was a cafe ... the Pasticceria Rossano.
The cafe had only a small frontage ... but extended back inside an amazing distance.
Even although it was quite late in the day ... the displays were full of selections of pastries. I needed no persuasion to stop.
I took my purchases out onto the veranda ... sat back ... and watched the world go by.
After the rest I reluctantly climbed back on my bike and explored Camaiore's main square before finding my way back onto the road to Lucca.
The road climbs from the town up to a pass at a altitude of around 200 m near the village of Montemagno.
On the way up I was passed by dozens of cyclists ... some on their own ... others in pairs ... and yet more in large groups.
At the zig-zags near the top I could see a particularly large group approaching at speed from behind.
I stopped above a bend and watched them catch up.
They were nearly at the top of the climb and the leaders were sprinting for the summit ... and most of the tailenders were struggling to keep up.
Around the last bend the backmarkers were dropped ...
... but when they saw that there was a possibility (admittedly slight) of being overtaken by a foreigner on a town bike ... they found a last burst of energy to take them to the top.
Cresting the top I could see down to Montemagno in the Freddana Valley below.
It was to be all downhill now ... following the Torrente Freddana back down to Lucca.
On the way I continued to be passed by racing cyclists ... I was puzzled that they were all travelling in the same direction ... how do they get back?
In no time at all I arrived back at Lucca's northern outskirts.
The motor traffic was completely snarled up in Lucca's Via Borgo Giannotti as I made my way back to Porta Santa Maria.
It was a pleasure to pass under the medieval walls and arrive back in the quite centre ...
... now I was now spoiled for choice for cafes ...
Kirby James
