AS WELL as the cuisine I always like to sample a little cycling when on holiday and my January adventure to Italy was no exception.

Instead of packing the Lycra and a lightweight frame as most do when travelling to this passionate cycling country, the Brompton made its maiden foreign journey all the way from the city of Milan to the shores of the Amalfi coast.

My little English folding bike took me to the leaning tower of Pisa, round the Colosseum, through the streets of Naples and had a relaxing break in Sorrento where we took one look at the winding coastal path up to our hotel and decided to get the bus instead.

Although some terrain was too much, the cities were flat and having a bike with you on holiday puts you one step ahead, day-long trudges round the touristy sights is hard on the heels, but once you incorporate two wheels a city becomes more manageable – just like Oxford.

And you can be miles from home but notice the similarities: people cycling to work, families cycling children to school, the elderly still using two wheels to shop and enthusiastic hip and trendy socialites making their way to cocktail hour.

Despite the Italian love affair with the sport of cycling, you cannot help but notice they are still very much in love with their motors. The moped is as common a sight as a pizza house and rush-hour involves a lot of honking horns and reattaching their wing mirrors. Nightmarish environments for any cycle commuters.

Even where the towns and cities seem committed to restricting the access to cars, the Italians get round this by investing in a mini car instead or the new breed of electric car such as the Renault Twizy – which is a bizarre sight – but at least the drivers seem more righteous than the diesel powered alternatives.

Despite the acceptance of the motors’ dominance and the theatrical way in which they decide to drive, I felt safer cycling amongst the Italian drivers than when in Oxford.

It felt if you were on the road, you were given respect, whereas in Oxford you can sometimes feel like a little cockroach they all want to splat.

One Italian city that has got the cycling culture nailed is Parma. Bikes are everywhere and we rounded off our trip with a visit to the church of Madonna del Ghisallo, the patron saint of cyclists.

The Holy Grail for any cycle fanatic, the small church on a steep hill near Lake Como was dedicated to travellers on two wheels in 1949 by Pope Pious XII.

Inside the walls are adorned with famous bicycles from the Giro d’Italia and anyone who has pedalled it.

With our Brompton’s blessed and an Oxford mention in the visitors’ book, our cycling in Italy was complete.