[caption id="attachment_7693" align="alignleft" width="225" caption="Me, Fabio 2 e Mia Cugina"]<a href="http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/P9140038.jpg"><img class="size-medium wp-image-7693 " title="OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA" src="http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/P9140038-225x300.jpg" alt="" width="225" height="300" /></a>[/caption]

The day before I left for Italy, my colleague, Allyson, met me at the water cooler to talk about my upcoming trip.  Allyson was especially curious about the bicycle tour portion of my Italian adventure.  She asked me if I had been training.

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"Well...you know...I work out.  I'm fit.  I've taken 3 spin classes to reacquaint myself with a bike."

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Allyson skipped to the next logical question:  "When was the last time you were on a real bike?  One that requires balance, shifting gears, etc."

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Oops!  I forgot about those minor details.  Oh, well.  It was too late now.

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I stopped to think about the last time I mounted a real bike.  I couldn't remember for certain.

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"Well...ummm...25 years ago?  When I was in high school?  No, wait!!!!  I rode a bike to campus when I was in grad school!  20 years ago!!!"

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Allyson burst out laughing.

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I sheepishly defended myself.  "Doesn't the saying tell us that it's just like getting back on a bike?!?!  How difficult can this be?  The trip is ranked easy to moderate!  Spin class is much harder than a leisurely bike ride!."

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I kept on with the defense.  "Plus, it's been averaging 116 degrees in Phoenix!  It can't possibly be healthy to train in those temps!"

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Allyson attempted to comfort me.  "I'm sure you'll be fine.  Can't wait to hear all about it!"

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She didn't sound convincing.

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On Day 353, my cousins and I met with our tour group for the first time in the lobby of our Florence hotel.  I was pleased to learn that we had not one, but two Italian men as our tour leaders.  Benissimo!

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To protect the identities of these incredibly talented and professional leaders, I will herein refer to them as Fabio 1 and Fabio 2.

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I knew that it was going to be an anything-but-boring trip when Fabio 1, upon seeing my <strong><a href="http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2011/09/05/day-341-luggage-fashionista/" target="_blank">new luggage</a></strong>, gestured wildly while exclaiming, "Michelle!!!  This looks just like Italian luggage!  Che bella!"

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All 19 of us boarded the bus and headed out from Firenze to the sun-kissed hills of Tuscany.

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Since the trip was approximately 90 minutes, we stopped half-way in for a food/cappuccino stop.  Italians need to refuel with caffeine and calories often.  Lucky for me, I grew up in an equally food-obsessed Portuguese family, so it took me exactly 0 seconds to adjust this aspect of the Italian lifestyle.

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[caption id="attachment_7692" align="alignnone" width="300" caption="Pit stop at the autogrill"]<a href="http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/P9140022.jpg"><img class="size-medium wp-image-7692" title="OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA" src="http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/P9140022-300x225.jpg" alt="" width="300" height="225" /></a>[/caption]

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An "autogrill" is a roadside gas station/food mart in Italy.  Sort of like a Circle K in the States.  Except imagine a Circle K serving homemade gelato, high quality espresso, gourmet sandwiches and pastries, and a menu of hot pasta dishes.  Lining the walls, you won't see Doritos and candy for sale, but artisan pastas, breads, olive oil and of course, wine.

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[caption id="attachment_7688" align="alignnone" width="225" caption="No food on the bus! But what if you&#39;re Word&#39;s Slowest Eater and didn&#39;t finish your pastry in the autogrill?!?!"]<a href="http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/P9140023.jpg"><img class="size-medium wp-image-7688" title="OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA" src="http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/P9140023-225x300.jpg" alt="" width="225" height="300" /></a>[/caption]

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45 minutes later, we arrived at the <strong><a href="http://www.agrihotel-elisabetta.it/elisabetta/english/index.html" target="_blank">Agrihotel Elisabetta</a>, </strong>a working vineyard, farm, and hotel.  (If you are planning a visit to Italy, I highly recommend researching<strong> <a href="http://www.italylogue.com/agriturismo" target="_blank">agriturismo</a> </strong>for an authentic experience.)

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After checking into our rustically charming rooms, our leaders summoned us to the veranda for an orientation and a cycling warm-up.  YES!  This is where I would get back on the bike, find my balance, learn how to shift gears, etc.

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NOT!  You see, the other people on this tour actually <em>trained</em> for it.  They didn't need remedial instruction.

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But that's o.k.  I had youth on my side which certainly gave me some smattering of physical prowess.

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Yep.  I was the baby in this group.  With a few 50-something exceptions (including my cousins), this tour group consisted of peeps my parents' age.  On my last day as a 41 year-old, I was repeatedly called "kid".  Isn't that the best 40-something birthday present ever?!?!

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The leaders directed us to choose a helmet for the duration of our tour.  I picked my Lucky Number 11.

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<a href="http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/P9140035.jpg"><img class="alignnone size-medium wp-image-7683" title="OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA" src="http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/P9140035-300x225.jpg" alt="" width="300" height="225" /></a>

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We then made our way to the parking lot for an 8 mile test run on our bikes.

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I pulled Fabio 2 aside.  "Listen.  I need Cycling 101.  I haven't been on a bike in 20 years.  What the heck to I do with these gears?"

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He looked puzzled, and then patiently walked me through the gears.  Basically, I was not to touch the gears on the left, but I could fiddle- faddle with the ones on the right until I was cycling easily.  Piece of cake!

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What I forgot to ask for in my Cycling One-on-One was how to dismount without nearly falling into traffic.  You see, to get to those Tuscan hills, one must navigate through traffic just like anywhere else.  Were you expecting a completely pastoral setting???  I was.  Oops again!

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Fortunately for me, practically every Italian rides a bike.  Therefore, when they're behind the wheel of car, they pay attention.  i.e., they beep their horn while steering around American novices.

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I took deep breaths and focused on the beauty of my surroundings once I stopped dodging cars.

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<a href="http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/P9150068.jpg"><img class="alignnone size-medium wp-image-7696" title="OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA" src="http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/P9150068-300x225.jpg" alt="" width="300" height="225" /></a>

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After our refreshing, easy ride, I was the last to pull into the Agrihotel Elisabetta.  So much for youth.  I mused that my 65 year-old father is a marathon runner, and my fellow tour group members are cycling ANIMALS!  The 60s are obviously the new 40s.

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As for me -- the group baby -- I needed a tricycle.

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The pool beckoned.  But first, I needed to learn how to dismount properly.  I didn't remember a bike feeling this tall.  Only my tip-tip-toes touched the ground when I stopped.

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I called Fabio 1 over for a post-ride debrief.

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"Listen.  I need Cycling 101.  I haven't been on a bike in 20 years.  How the heck to do I gracefully get off this thing without killing myself in traffic?"

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Fabio 1 smirked, shot me "the look", and then patiently taught me how to safely stop and get off my bike.  I never had this issue in spin class.

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Fabio 1 then informed me that he was the cycling leader for our first ride the next morning.  He would hold up the rear, and since we all knew that I was officially the weakest link, this meant that I would receive one-on-one treatment for the entire day.

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"You stay with me tomorrow,"  Fabio 1 commanded.

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"O.k.," I replied, as any bright American woman would.

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That night, I eased my nerves with vino, vino, and more vino during a tour of Elisabetta's wine cellar with owner, Luigi.  Fabio 1 offered translation while Fabio 2 stood in the background looking like an Italian Matthew McConaughey.

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<a href="http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/P9140045.jpg"><img class="alignnone size-medium wp-image-7701" title="OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA" src="http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/P9140045-225x300.jpg" alt="" width="225" height="300" /></a>

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After two glasses of wine, I knew that tomorrow's ride would be just fine.

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[caption id="attachment_7702" align="alignnone" width="300" caption="Baby M, Fabio 1, and Luigi"]<a href="http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/P1000225.jpg"><img class="size-medium wp-image-7702" title="P1000225" src="http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/P1000225-300x225.jpg" alt="" width="300" height="225" /></a>[/caption]

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If you would like more information on The Tuscan Coast bicycle tour, please visit <strong>www.vbt.com.</strong>