Tuesday, 22 April 2014

From Cima Sappada to Pieve


Saturday the 29th August 1998.  

The morning bus from Cima Sappada took Una and myself back to Calalzo station.  Bus journeys in Italy are much more fun than those in the UK.  The passengers like to enjoy an exchange of banter with the driver, which makes for fine entertainment and passes the time amicably.
Fancy befriending an Italian bus?






The route down the Piave valley took us through many picturesque little alpine villages.  


Glancing through the window of the bus after we passed through San Stefano I saw that the Piave had become a wider river, having joined with the waters of the Pàdola Torrente.  






But the biggest transformation was at Tre Ponti.  At Tre Ponti the Piave merges  with the Ansiei River.  This photo from the nineteenth century shows what the famous junction of three bridges looked like in those times.  



Progressively, from the nineteenth century onward, the wooden bridges in Cadore were replaced by stone ones.






  
Santa Orsola Chapel © Peter Alexander Gray 2012







Perched on the hillside to the east of Tre Ponti is Vigo di Cadore, with the beautiful little chapel of Santa Orsola.  I had to wait until 2012 before making a visit there.  I am indebted to Umberto Olivier and Giancarlo Soravia.

The walls inside the chapel are richly decorated with frescos.  They tell the story of Santa Orsola's doomed pilgrimage, which ended in the massacre of herself and 11,000 other virgins by the forces of Attila the Hun.






Inside the Santa Orsola Chapel   © Peter Alexander Gray 2012

When the bus arrived at Calalzo station it was time to take Una out of the bag once more, assemble her from her component parts, and head downriver to Pieve di Cadore.  By the time we arrived in Pieve, I was thirsty. 

The main square is dominated by a statue of Pieve's most famous son Tiziano (that's Titian to English-speakers like myself), but puffing up the hill towards the piazza I found my attention drawn instead to a curious building, which appeared to be a church with a built-in bar.


An unusual bar... © Peter Alexander Gray 1998

Sitting under the canopy outside, sipping at a cold beer, I wrote in my diary that this was one of the most relaxing places I had experienced in my life...


A most relaxing place...   © Peter Alexander Gray 1998









© Peter Alexander Gray 1998
Of course... it could just have been the beer.

But then... what lovely old houses frame the square.

In the centre of the piazza Tiziano (my diary says 'wearing tights and funny shoes') looks down suspiciously at the local bank.  

Has anything changed?










The travel writer Alexander Robertson visited Pieve towards the end of the nineteenth century and wrote a book about his travels in Venetia, as Veneto was then, in 1896.  He might well have stayed at the Hotel Progresso, here in the main square.


The Hotel Progresso in 1998   © Peter Alexander Gray 1998

The book has some interesting advertisements included at the rear.  


The Hotel al Progresso's pitch for customers in 1896.

Whether there was a further charge for Use of Cruet is not known.


Titian's house   © Peter Alexander Gray 1998

The place everyone must see, of course, is Tiziano's birthplace (centre right).  You can look inside here.

For Una and myself, it was time to head downriver once more to the place we most wanted to see - Perarolo.

Note: This blog supports readers of The Door of Perarolo, a historical novel set in Cadore, Italy in the early nineteenth century.  You may examine feedback from readers in the UK here and in the US here.  The Door of Perarolo is a Kindle ebook comprising 140 chapters.  It can be downloaded from Amazon sites worldwide.  The launch post of this blog gives further details.  The second post provides links to maps, etc.

Saturday, 22 March 2014

Down the Piave from the Source

The journey by bike from Cima Sappada to Monte Peralba was exhausting.  The return journey down the mountainside was far from easy too!  I had been warned by a friend (thanks, Nick!) that the rims of a bike heat up rapidly with continuous application of the brakes.  This is dangerous, as it can cause the tyres to explode.


A small bicycle on a big mountain.



























© Peter Alexander Gray 1998

A small bike but a sturdy one, Una came apart very readily and folded up to store in a big cloth bag, so as to travel on trains and buses at no extra cost.  She also carried my cool bag on a rack at the back which contained water, food, and spare film for my Pentax SLR - no cheap digital cameras in 1998!

Small beginnings...





The Piave was another small companion at this stage of the downhill journey, a mere trickle of water running through the white rocks, yet big enough to cool Una's rims. .
It's down there somewhere...



© Peter Alexander Gray 1998






The river would sometimes be far below in a ravine.

A river is born.







But the Piave was soon augmented by rivulets arriving from all directions into the main course. By the time it arrived into the valley proper at Cima Sappada, it was already a river in its own right.










Not too late to save?



In the nineteenth and twentieth centuries poverty was rife along the length of the Piave valley.  

Many families abandoned property, leaving Italy for a new life in America.





Cima Sappada is the sort of place that stays in the memory forever.  Beautiful even in the rain...



Cima Sappada, a place to remember...

© Peter Alexander Gray 1998



But it was time now say my goodbyes, and to pack Una back into her big sacco.  The bus from Cima would take us a little way along the course of the Piave to our next destination.

Time to grab a few provisions and head downriver...



© Peter Alexander Gray 1998




















This was the start of the journey along the course of Italy's third largest river, that would eventually take Una and me all the way to Venice.

Note: This blog supports readers of The Door of Perarolo, a historical novel set in Cadore, Italy in the early nineteenth century.  You may examine feedback from readers in the UK here and in the US here.  The Door of Perarolo is a Kindle ebook comprising 140 chapters.  It can be downloaded from Amazon sites worldwide.  The launch post of this blog gives further details.  The second post provides links to maps, etc.

Saturday, 15 February 2014

The Birth of the Piave


The source of the Piave lies high up in the Dolomites on the slopes of Monte Peralba, above the alpine village of Cima Sappada.  Cima Sappada is marked on the map of Ethnographical Itineraries in Veneto  Itinerary 1  as 'Sappada'.  There are several tributaries of the Piave marked on the map as the 'sorgenti  del Piave', but one in particular on Monte Peralba is regarded as the 'true source' by the Italian people.  The Piave River is important in the history of Italy, as it was where the Italian forces stood firm against the Austro-Hungarian armies in WW1, the waters of the river 'running red with blood'.  The momentous events of that time are remembered in stirring songs, still sung to this day.

In 1998 I flew to Milan and thence by train and bus to Cima Sappada, basing myself and my folding bicycle Una at the truly wonderful and hospitable Hotel Belvedere.

A souvenir from a stay in Cima Sappada in 1998

The view of Cima Sappada from my room at the hotel was stunning.  The village is surrounded by the Dolomite peaks on all sides, with the mist constantly drifting through them.


Cima Sappada in the misty Dolomite Mountains
© Peter Alexander Gray 1998

The next morning Una (full name Una Bicicletta) and I set off on the long ascent of the road that rises out of the valley following the Piave to the source.  You can tell from the photo (above) that the way we took was steep


The morning sun burning off the mountain mists
© Peter Alexander Gray 1998


The Dolomite Mountains (originally called the Eastern Alps) dwarf everything in the field of view.  

Once a coral reef, the rock is soft and there are many landslips.  The mineral composition was discovered by a French geologist - Dieudonné Sylvain Guy Tancrède de Gratet de Dolomieu.  (His mum just called him Dieu for short.)

On journeys through Italy you will find many tiny shrines by the roadside, or on the banks of streams and rivers.  There is such a shrine to be found on the ascent of Monte Peralba, on the bank of the stream that is the source of the river.


Shrine seen in the dappled light shining through the trees
© Peter Alexander Gray 1998



Offerings to Santa Maria di Luggau
© Peter Alexander Gray 1998

Behind bars, inside, are flowers and other offerings to Santa Maria di Luggau.  

Each year since 1804, in the third Saturday of September, the people of the locality gather before dawn at Cima Sappada to make a pilgrimage.  

They ascend the road to the source of the Piave and then head over the border, to the Austrian town of Luggau and the Santuario di Santa Maria.

There they give thanks to the Holy Mother (whom they believe, in centuries past, spared the region from the plague) before returning to Cima Sappada for a mass the next day.












Maintained with true devotion...
© Peter Alexander Gray 1998
Up and up, we went... 


From Cima Sappada to the refuge on the Piani del Cristo
Carte e Piante Turistiche Tobacco sheet 1


Fortunately,there is the Rifugio Piani del Cristo (circled) en route that allows for exhausted cyclists to collapse and take in food and liquids of all types.  


Cyclist burning out (me)
© Peter Alexander Gray 1998








They have, arrayed above the bar, a whole range of bottles of grappa. After eating a hearty lunch I tried one infused with lemon and basil.   Magnificent... the only word I could find...



Lady behind the bar watching anxiously as grappa accesses the parts beyond the reach of Heineken 
© Peter Alexander Gray 1998

Somehow, setting off again, the mountain seemed a lot steeper.  And there was a long, long way to go...

The hard slog, onwards and up, to the end of the road...
Carte e Piante Turistiche Tobacco sheet 1

About a mile from the end of the road I came across an estate car pulled into a makeshift lay-by on one side, the owner snapping away with his camera.  A polite enquiry (along with a pleading look designed to convey total exhaustion) as to whether it was much further to the source of the Piave immediately persuaded the good man to open up the rear of his vehicle and in a matter of moments Una was stowed safely inside.  

Collapsing into the passenger seat I realised fully for the first time why man had felt the need to invent the motor car.


The Source of the Piave
© Peter Alexander Gray 1998
There at last... The Piave seeps out of the ground on Monte Peralba, forms a little pool and trickles down the mountainside.  There is a stone WW1 monument with an Italian military helmet atop, and a plaque which reads in Italian 'Here is born the Piave'.  You can find more images here.


The church at the source of the Piave
 © Peter Alexander Gray 1998

Not far from the monument is a tiny church.  Despite the size, inside it is a treasure trove.


Madonna and Child above the altar
© Peter Alexander Gray 1998
There are very many beautiful little churches in Cadore.  This is one of them...


High up on one wall, Psalm 103
© Peter Alexander Gray 1998

But it was time for my departure, to set off from here to follow the Piave on the river's long, eventful journey to Venice and the Adriatic.  Here, in the Dolomite mountains, is where the journey starts.

Note: This blog supports readers of The Door of Perarolo, a historical novel set in Cadore, Italy in the early nineteenth century.  You may examine feedback from readers in the UK here and in the US here.  The Door of Perarolo is a Kindle ebook comprising 140 chapters.  It can be downloaded from Amazon sites worldwide.  The launch post of this blog gives further details.  The second post provides links to maps, etc.

Monday, 20 January 2014

New Year 2014 Postbag


Many thanks to all of you who have written to me or posted reviews since the launch of The Door of Perarolo in September 2013.  Across the water I extend my thanks to Martin in the US for his kind comments in his review on the Amazon.com website and to Susan in Calgary, Canada, for writing to me to say that she has recommended the book to a host of Canadian readers.  I'm also most grateful to those of you have posted reviews on the Amazon.uk website.

Richard in Dore village, England, has written with the following queries, and I'd like to address them in this post, as they are questions that re-occur in feedback from readers.  


I've just looked at your latest blog.  Nice pictures of the rafts.
I guess they only made one way journeys. What did they do with them at the river mouth?
Were they worth anything?  How did the raftsmen get back up the river?
Interesting your mention of Pont Neuf in Paris... Despite being called Pont Neuf it's actually the oldest bridge over the Seine.  What made you pick that one for the book?

The originals of the raft photos are even better in the book La Via del Fiume (Cierre Edizioni, Verona), for  I scanned them at reduced definition for the post.  Yes, the rafts did indeed make a one-way journey, being re-crewed at each port on the river.  The main cargo out of Perarolo was timber.  At Codissago some of this was unloaded and the raft re-cargoed with stone cut from the local quarries.  The stone (in the form of lintels, arches, column sections and so forth) was unloaded at Belluno and other major towns en route to Venice.  As for the rafts' timbers... Venice was hungry for wood for building work and for carpentry.  But mostly, the rafts would have been scrapped for fuel for domestic fires.  Yes, they were worth a price - Venice, build as it is on islands in the lagoon, had to import all its timber.

As for returning home, the raftsmen slept in their homes in their home port until around midnight, and then walked upriver back to their place of work.  For the zattieri of Codissago, this meant returning to Perarolo.  The rafts they had brought down that day to Codissago were taken downriver by crews from Belluno and Capo di Ponte.  The only time the zattieri undertook the the whole journey from Perarolo to Venice was when they were piloting the huge rasi - the rafts made of timbers for ships' masts.  This occurred only during the brief period of the French occupation. 

I have had the same experience as Richard and his wife when visiting old European towns.  Discovering Paris at the beginning of the 19th century was tricky.  During that century they they pulled lots of it down to build the boulevards.  So what you see nowadays isn't how it was then.  You'd be surprised how much of 'old' Paris (and other European cities) isn't more much more than 100 - 150 years old!

To understand what European towns and cities were like in the early nineteenth century I researched, many years ago, the diary of Charlotte Harriet Beaujolois Campbell.    




'Beaujolois' as she was known in her family, as a 14-year-old, kept a diary of a journey from London to Florence in 1817.  The original hand-written diary was discovered by  the scientist and historian GR de Beer and published in London in 1951.  Over a number of years, I followed in stages the journey described in the diary, starting at Montgeron (east of Paris), hitch-hiking the old coach roads, and journeying east through Sens, Besançon, through the Jura Mountains into Switzerland (then through Valais, over the Simplon pass into Italy, still following Beaujolais' diary, and arriving eventually into Florence to find the house they made their new family home).

She writes:

At the very gates of Paris we turned off to Charenton.  The road followed the outskirts of Paris and I felt doubly the disappointment of not going there by being so very near.

They spent the night in a hotel at Montgeron before heading off to Sens the next day, to stay at the Le Grand Cerf.  So, you see, I have Beaujolois to thank for the name of the hotel where Xavier and Lucien Fortin were brought up...

Reaching Switzerland, the family lingered in Lausanne, waiting for news that the heat in Italy was abating, for it was a hot summer there.  Before I arrived for the first time in Lausanne, my mental picture of the town was scanty.  I believed it was situated on the shores of Lake Geneva (the correct name in French is Lac Léman) and was the centre of the International Olympic Committee.  I arrived by train, for a business trip, and, looking at all the old houses in the immediate neighbourhood, I was convinced I was about to walk the streets that Beaujolois had walked two centuries before.  I couldn't have been more wrong!

Here are my research notes from the time, with Beaujolois' diary notes in red:

LAUSANNE 09/07/2000

Arrived via Geneva to attend a conference for the week.

The Rue de Bourg, summer 1893
(Lausanne 1860-1910, Louis Polla, Payot Lausanne)
Before arriving in Lausanne, I had thought (as perhaps anyone might), that the old centre of Lausanne was to be found near the centre of the modern town - perhaps somewhere near the railway station?  Not so!  In 1817, Lausanne was a walled town atop the hillside about a mile above the lake.  The red arrows on the map show the route the Campbells' carriage would have taken between the lake and the old town, through vineyards (see below).

31:08:1817

We spent five days at the Hotel du Lion d’Or...

This seemingly innocuous diary entry was to lead to my first real break. One evening while walking up the town (the streets of Lausanne are steep), I met a resident of Lausanne who informed me of the existence of a model of the town as it would have been in the early 19th century. It was to be found, he said, in the museum next to the cathedral. I explained that I was looking for the Lion d’Or, which drew a blank look. I added that it was probably close to the rue du Bourg.

He corrected me: 'La rue de Bourg?' (A slight change of name since1817, or a minor error in the diary of the fourteen-year-old Beaujolois). It was, he explained, one of the oldest streets of Lausanne. He took me there.






The photograph (left) from the museum records, shows the Rue de Bourg in the summer of 1893.  Importantly for me it states (in French):‘the great building with eight windows per floor, on the right at the bottom of the street, was the ancient hotel the Lion d’Or...in 1832, it was considered to be an establishment of great reputation, much visited.  It was furnished with baths.’ 

The records also reveal that its address was No. 29 Rue de Bourg, and that it closed, finally, in 1842.  The houses on the left hand side of the street would have been the last of the houses lying inside the old town walls, which would have been seen by Beaujolais as her coach entered via the St François gate.  Demolition of the old town walls commenced in that century, though well after 1817.  

Famous patrons  included:

1769 Emperor Joseph II
1810 Ex-empress Josephine
1815 Queen Hortense
1822 The King of Prussia

Looking down the Rue de Bourg, old Lausanne (Photo: PAG )

The photo opposite of a model of the old walled town of Lausanne was taken inside the Musée Historique de Lausanne.  The red arrow indicates the Rue de Bourg descending in the direction of the church of St François.  Down (left, outside the walls) the hill below the old town, the land running down to the lake was, in 1817, entirely set to vines.  Around 1850 the walls were demolished, and thereafter the vineyards were gradually encroached by urban development.  All that remains today of the old fortifications is a single watchtower, La Tour de L’Ale; the vineyards are all gone, and houses stretch all the way down the hill to the lakeside.  Now was the time to visit the rue de Bourg with my camera, to see the hotel where Beaujolois stayed...




Early morning, Rue de Bourg  (PAG)

Down the street, on the right: the Lion d’Or.  Once the proud residence of kings, it is now a pizza house!  The traditional market stalls still do good trade so, on a limited budget, I stocked my back-pack with fruit and tomatoes.  The young woman who sold them to me explained that the Rue de Bourg was the street where the bourgeoisie had lived – on the outskirts of the town.  ‘Bourg’ is origin of the term ‘bourgeoisie’, she added.  As we chatted in a happy mixture of French, English and Italian, she told me that she had a degree from Lausanne University, specialising in Etymology; she still studies in the evenings, in order to become a teacher.




Enough, for the present of the Campbells' journey to Florence.  That trip to Lausanne taught me how to look at all the towns she described in her diary of 1817, en route to Florence.  

But the Campbells skirted Paris on that journey, so I could get no description of the city from Beaujolois' diary.  

What would Paris have been like in at the beginning of the nineteenth century?  Much different from modern Paris.  John Stockdale (Piccadilly, London) produced a detailed map of Paris, then a walled city, in 1800. 

Paris, 1800

No sign of the boulevards.  The Tuileries Palace is still in place (later burnt down by a mob during another revolution).  To answer Richard's question: 

If we look closer, we can see the number of bridges are few...  It was the only bridge in Paris at that time that didn't have houses built on it (houses like the ones on the Ponte Vecchio in Florence which can still be seen in modern times), and thus it allowed traffic and pedestrians to pass over easily.


Isle du Palais
Part of Key to Stockdale's map

The 'New Bridge', 40 on the key, is the Pont Neuf.  


Renoir's painting of  Le Pont Neuf

It has been painted over the years by countless artists, including Renoir.  The bastions of the bridge, resembling the boxes found in theatres, were and are still popular meeting places for lovers.  Hence the choice for the book.  

Please, keep up the feedback! Some of you were asking about the next book, and how many books about the zattieri, the history and culture of Venetia, and so forth, are planned.  To answer: I'm working on the next book at present, so may limit myself to a new post every month from now on; including The Door of Perarolo, there are four books planned for the series in total.

Note: This blog supports readers of The Door of Perarolo, a historical novel set in Cadore, Italy in the early nineteenth century.  You may examine feedback from readers in the UK here and in the US here.  The Door of Perarolo is a Kindle ebook comprising 140 chapters.  It can be downloaded from Amazon sites worldwide.  The launch post of this blog gives further details.  The second post provides links to maps, etc.