Italy

Italy is a proper mixed bag, which is perhaps the most Italian thing about it.

The first surprise was how much of northern Italy isn't quite what we expected. The Po plain is flat, industrial in patches, and car-dominated even through town centres. Some days were genuinely hard: rain and headwinds on the long stretch from Pavia to Mantua, a grim stretch of gravel track next to a water pumping station that sapped Mat's will to live, and a washing machine in Mantua that locked all our clothes inside until midnight.

But then there's the other side: Turin was wonderful, full of yellow cars and beautiful buildings. The cities have been extraordinary: Cremona with its Stradivarius legacy, Mantua rising out of its lakes, Ferrara the UNESCO jewel, Padua with its ancient frescoes and the oldest botanical garden in the world. The food and produce are unreal, and cooking with Italian ingredients has been a genuine joy. We've hit our longest day yet (103km to Ferrara), we're a month in, and the legs are still holding up.

Unfortunately, male Italian drivers are really, really awful. They overtake on blind bends, they pass with mere centimetres of room, and they shout at us regularly (I promise we're following the road rules). One morning a driver cut across a roundabout, driving on the wrong side of the road, straight towards Mat. Men driving tractors are even worse.