Arrivederci Cadore

From the post The Birth of the Piave

At the end of my trip to Italy in 1998 I spent my time on the flight from Milan
to Stansted airport in the UK thinking about the whole trip.

Perhaps, though, not thinking, as it was mainly images that came to mind... 

Such as this one.

Seeing Psalm 103 on a wall inside the tiny chapel atop Monte Peralba was a memory to cherish.

I had gone to Italy to research the background of my book The Door of Perarolo but it would take another fourteen years of research and writing, mostly part-time, before it was finished. 

From the post The Birth of the Piave

The Cadore region had been the focus of my attention.  So my thoughts went back to the time I was standing at the source  of the Piave high up on Monte Peralba. 

From the post The Birth of the Piave

I recalled the wee church - but a short stroll from the source of Italy's third largest river.  

From the post The Birth of the Piave

From the post The Birth of the Piave

What a treasure it was to find!  

Though it was not the only treasure to be discovered on Monte Peralba.

An essential stop for a burnt-out cyclist (me) was the Rifugio Piani del Cristo where good food and drink could be found.


In a thicket down the hill towards Cima Sappada there is to be seen the road/riverside shrine of Santa Maria di Luggau.

From the post The Birth of the Piave

Cima Sappada had been the ideal base from which to explore the area.

From the post The Birth of the Piave

From the hotel balcony I took these photos of the town.

From the post Down the Piave from the Source

Even in the rain, Cima Sappada was hauntingly beautiful.  I remember, thinking as the plane flew homewards over the Alps, that this was somewhere I had to visit again.

From the post From Cima Sappada to Pieve

From Cima Sappada I took the bus to Calalzo, thence by bike to Pieve di Cadore to see Titian's house. 

From the post A First Look at Perarolo

As the plane flew homewards over rural France I smiled while recalling  what a long day that was! 

There had been just enough time for a quick bite and a beer in the main square in Pieve, a few photos, then Una (my bike) and I were heading south once again...

...to Perarolo.  

It was my first visit, and I wanted to take as many photos as possible before heading downriver once more.

The church dedicated to San Nicolò was in those days always open.  But in Italy, like everywhere else in Europe, churches are subject to theft and vandalism in recent times, so many are kept locked nowadays.

From the post A First Look at Perarolo

The church above is a wooden frontage of the remnants of the old church that occupied this site in the nineteenth century.

From the post Perarolo Then and Now

In my rucksack on the plane home were my research notes.  The reason for my research trip was to find out more about Perarolo in the nineteenth century.  You can see the original stone church building in the lower part of this old photo towards the centre.  Perarolo is subject to damage by earthquakes and flooding, and the church has been damaged many times by both over the centuries.  

From the post Downriver from Perarolo towards Codissago

And still my journey through Cadore wasn't over for the day!

Near Rivalgo I photographed this monument to the caduti who fought the Austrians in 1848 - though the uprisings of that year were not to bring the desired freedom from Austria. 



The heady days of Cavour, Garibaldi, et al were yet to come.

From the post Downriver from Perarolo towards Codissago

At Rivalgo I stopped to take a photograph of the church (but the photo above sent to me by Franco Baldissarutti is a better one).

I noticed a wrought-iron gate with initials at the top of the metalwork, and I made a comment in my audio diary.  The initials interested me - who was this well-to-do person living here in this tiny village?

From the post From Rivalgo to Codissago

(The initials were 'CSM' and stand for Cristoforo Svaluto Moreolo.  I didn't have a photo of the gate, but you can see it here in Aldo De Bastiani's photo (thanks, Aldo!). 

Giancarlo Soravia and others solved the mystery of the initials for me - thanks to you all!)

From the post From Rivalgo to Codissago

At Ospitale I photographed the Chiesa della Santissima Trinità before heading down river to...

From the post From Rivalgo to Codissago

...Termine, where I photographed the curiously shaped church there in the fading light. 

Termine (a good choice of name!) marks the limit of the region (Cadore) where the language Cadorino is spoken.

From the post Vajont, Erto and Longarone

I was staying at the cottage of my friend Umberto Olivier in Codissago that night.  Here I am with Barbara and Umberto.

From the post From Codissago to Belluno

A few days later we sat down in a fine country restaurant owned by one of Umberto's friends (second from right).

From the post From Codissago to Belluno

And, no, we didn't eat lard, but we were happy all the same - perhaps on account of the vino rosso.  That was the memory I had in mind as the plane landed at in the UK.

Now... you wouldn't be allowed to do this nowadays, now would you? This is a photo taken inside the cockpit of the aircraft that took Una (my folding bike) and myself back to the UK.  

Lots of dials and switches...  [© P.A.G. 1998]

I had explained to a sympathetic stewardess that I'd been in Veneto on an extended research trip.

This was the end of a long journey.  

'Any chance I might go inside the cockpit of the plane after we've landed?' I asked.

She had a few words with the captain.

'No problem,' she said.


They were all concentration over their paperwork when I took my photos.

It felt a bit like entering a small, private chapel after the service had started.

The pilot and copilot check the football results.  [© P.A.G. 1998]

Breakfast

But I was getting hungry.  All I wanted now was to get some food...

Now, I've had some good tomatoes for breakfast, but these were special...

Giant tomato slices topped with cheese and grilled.


Meet the folk who cooked it for me and served me with good coffee.

The chefs

On the flight from Stansted up to Scotland I reminded myself of the other wonderful places I'd visited on the trip.

Belluno, Feltre and, of course, Venice.  

One place that stayed in my mind longer than most was Castello di Quero.

From the post Castello di Quero

Since I started this blog, this post has attracted much interest.


It was a great trip, but it was also good to get home.

Arriving home: Photos (slides) and camera, audio diary (mini-tapes) and recording machine

Apart from memories, I arrived home with many treasures.  In the image above you can see some of the slides in my photo collection, many of which I scanned electronically to include in this blog.  Also I had hours of voice recordings in my mini-tape audio diary - either my own commentary, or interviews with the many people I met in my time in Italy.

One example of Laura's work

Later, this wonderful set of pressed flowers (beautifully presented - thank you Laura - and labelled) arrived as promised from Castelfranco - Michele and his mother Laura having taken the trouble to label each item with their Latin, Italian and English names. All this to assist me with my work.  What kindness!

The collection as received in Scotland

As we have come to the end of the posts relating to the 1998 trip, I would like to thank some of the many people who helped me so much at that time:

Firstly, the late Nunzio Coletti and his wife who met with me in their house in Belluno in 1998 - Nunzio it was who diligently worked through the archives in Venice before writing his piece Trasporti di grande alberature sul Piave nell'Ottocento in La via del Fiume (Cierre edizioni, Verona), which sparked my own interest and subsequent research.  I dedicated The Door of Perarolo to Nunzio.

Secondly, my thanks go to Umberto Olivier and Barbara in Codissago for providing much hospitality, advice and assistance.

Finally, I would like to thank Michele Berton and Dario Masiero together with all the members of their lovely families for their hospitality, great kindness and help.

I was to return to Cadore again and again in the course of the researching of The Door of Perarolo.  But, in next month's post, we will journey to France to attempt to discover the country as it was at the start of the nineteenth century.  

Note: This blog supports readers of The Door of Perarolo, a historical novel set in Cadore, Italy in the early nineteenth century.  You can 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.

If you'd like to track these blog posts, you can follow me, Peter Alexander Gray, on Facebook.

Verona

Returning to Verona in 2012 [photo: Sally Givertz 2012]

This to wish all of you who read this blog a Happy New Year!

In most of the monthly posts of the last two years, starting with the post The Birth of the Piave, I have been writing about one thing: the journey I made in the summer of 1998 from the source of the River Piave, all the way along the course of Italy's third largest river, to the south and Venice. 

I left Venice late in the afternoon of the 6th September.  

Map of Verona, featuring a barely noticeable advertisement for my hotel of choice
[Camera di Commercio Industria Artigianato Agricoltura]

That evening I stepped from the train at Verona's Porta Nuova station, assembled my folding bike Una, and cycled down the Corso Porta Nuova until I reached a modest hotel, the Albergo Trento. 

I wheeled Una into the foyer, where the attendant told me regretfully they hadn't anywhere to store bicycles.  

Then he watched bemused as I took Una apart, folded  her up and put her in her sacco.

'Ah,' he said in Italian - which sounds exactly the same as 'ah' in English - 'a sacco is no problem - we can store that in the cupboard under the stairs!'











Then we started on the documentation formalities. 

I handed over my passport and took my folding spectacles from the little pouch fixed to the belt of my trousers, and unfolded them.

'Ah,' he said, 'your spectacles fold up, too!'

After a shower I headed down to the excellent Brek self-service restaurant in the Piazza Bra

There I ate some fine pasta washed down with a couple of glasses of the local Valpolicella. 

The region around Verona [Camera di Commercio Industria Artigianato Agricoltura]

You can see (from the map above) that Valpolicella production is located to the north of Verona.

I found the image (above) of this old postcard on the Facebook website 'Italia di una volta, vecchie cartoline' but search as I may, I can't locate the original post - so would the originator, if reading this, please contact me so I might give accreditation?  During the period of the Italian monarchy many streets and squares in Italy were renamed.   During the period royalty ruled Italy, the Piazza Bra was known as the Piazza Vittorio Emanuele (Victor Emanuel in English).  After the monarchy were sent into exile (at the end of WW2) many of the old place names were restored. 

The old photo of the Portoni was taken from inside the Piazza Bra (the name 'bra' derives originally from the German word “breit”- meaning 'broad' - and refers to the broad square in front of the city gates) - the tram seen on the right would have been part of the electric (from 1906 - horse trams before that) tram network serving the old city. You can find here excellent webpages (right click on the pages to translate to English)  describing the tram services that existed up to the 1950s.  

So clearly, these old postcard images (the one above and another below supplied by Luigi Boatto) are from photos taken in the first half of the 20th century

Standing inside the Piazza Bra wearing a T-shirt that vies in colour with the the local buses(that have now replaced the trams) as the brightest in Verona  [photo: Sally Givertz 2012]

In the photo above, I'm standing inside the Piazza Bra  at the same side of the Portoni di Piazza Bra as seen in the previous image. 



The image as seen in the postcard above (supplied as always by Luigi Boatto - thank you Luigi!) was captured from the other side of the Portoni by a photographer standing in the Corso Porta Nuova.  

Looking towards the entrance to the Piazza Bra from the Corso Porta Nouva [Google maps, street view]

Sally in the Piazza delle Erbe [PAG 2012]

For comparison, here (above) is the modern view, as captured by Google's remarkable mapping system. 

The tower to the right of the archways is the Torre Pentagona, part of the original walls of the city. 

But, back to 1998... It was night time, and I couldn't take any photos, as the little built-in flash on my Pentax SLR wasn't powerful enough.  So I gave up all thoughts of photography and took a stroll up the Via Mazzini to the Piazza delle Erbe.  

I visited Verona again in 2012 with my wife Sally -pictured left - and took several photos in the Piazza. 

Behind Sally is the one surviving pillar of the old Roman forum.  

The Lion of St Mark atop the Roman pillar  [PAG 2012]

The Lion of St Mark atop the pillar was added much later - it is the emblem of the Venetian Republic, which came to an end in the Napoleonic era.




The image in the old postcard (below) shows a side view of the Leone di San Marco.   In the background is the Corso Sant'Anastasia.  You can see faint indications of murals on the walls of the buildings.  

When I visited the piazza on that night in 1998, they had been restored all around the walls of the square and were glowing with colour under the floodlights.

The Leone di San Marco [courtesy Luigi Boatto]

To do Verona justice would require several posts in this blog - as I did when writing the posts about Venice. Of the large cities I have visited in Italy, Verona is by far my favourite.  Venice is wonderful - but commercial, busy and and nearly always packed with tourists.  

'Passport Verona' is a booklet available from the tourist information centre in Verona.   This map is featured in the centrefold.

Verona is a place to relax and enjoy that wonderful feeling of being in Italy amongst Italians - for Italians feel that life is for enjoying, and it is an infectious feeling.

The Roman theatre (top right of the map above) is an example of an essential place to visit.  Below is an old postcard (my thanks go again to Luigi) showing the ancient stone seating, with the church of Santa Libera in the background.

  





There is so much to see and do in Verona... but my time in Italy in the summer of 1998 was coming to an end.

On the morning of September 7th I rose very early and paid my bill at the Albergo Trento.  

I said 'grazie' to the kind man on the reception desk who had been on duty all night and, in the hotel foyer, assembled Una for the last time before cycling to the railway station to catch an early morning train to Milan.  

I'd bought my ticket the night before to save hassle.

I had time on that last train journey to reflect on the many events that had occurred during my visit.  

This blog has been read in many different countries around the world, and the feedback I've received from readers tells me that posts about the trip to Italy in 1998 were the ones they found most interesting. 


In the buffet in Milan I bought a latte and a brioche as my breakfast before taking the shuttle bus to Milan's Linate airport.

One thing I've noticed when travelling through Europe is how much more sociable bus passengers are than those in the UK. 

This journey was such a joy as the driver seemed to know a lot of the Italians on the bus, who proceed to harangue him mercilessly - to everyone's enjoyment, especially mine - and his too, for over his shoulder he gave in return as good as he got!  

In comparison, folk in the UK sit statuesque in their seats wearing expressions that would not seem out of place in a funeral cortege.

Airports in Italy are similarly more relaxed.  
To admit Una as hold luggage at the airport in Scotland where I started out on this trip,  I had to follow a strict series of rules laid down on an information sheet. 

She had to be packed in a cardboard box  of a certain set of dimensions, which were checked carefully when I presented Una in her cardboard coffin at check-in.  

There she was weighed, as there was an upper limit on the allowed weight, also recorded on the information leaflet.


In contrast, at Linate when I showed my sacco  containing Una to the lady handling hold baggage, things moved with less formality.  

'What's in the sacco?' she asked.  
'A folding bicycle.'
An appreciative raised eyebrow.  'Hmmm.  Interresante!'

Then with a shrug of the shoulders she threw my sacco  on the conveyor belt, and Una and I were on our way home.  


I'd like to thank Giancarlo Soravia, Luigi Boatto, Padre Maurizio Brioli, Aldo De Bastiani, Franco Baldissarutti, and Enzo Zanvettor for either providing information or supplying images for the series of blog posts that cover my 1998 trip in Veneto, which concludes with this month's post.

This blog supports readers of The Door of Perarolo, a historical novel set in Cadore, Italy in the early nineteenth century.  You can examine feedback from readers in the UK here and in the US here.  The Door of Perarolo is a Kindle ebook comprising 140 relatively short chapters - good for bedtime reading!  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. 

If you'd like to track these blog posts, you can follow me, Peter Alexander Gray, on Facebook.

Arrivederci Venezia

A few words to those of you reading this blog for the first time.  Its original purpose was to supply more

information to readers of my book The Door of Perarolo, published initially as a Kindle e-book in 2013.

Early posts provided historical information about real people and places that are described in The Door of Perarolo.  Since then, for most of the monthly posts of the last two years, starting with the post The Birth of the Piave, I have been writing about one thing:   the journey I made in the summer of 1998 from the source of the River Piave, all the way along the course of Italy's third largest river, to the south and Venice. 

The purpose of this journey was to research material for a series of historical novels (one already published, the others in preparation) relating to the zattieri di Codissago - the master raftsmen of the River Piave.  
Around midnight, each day, the zattieri would set off from Codissago to walk upriver, through the night, to Perarolo. There they would build the rafts that would be used to transport all manner of things downriver.  When the rafts reached Venice they were dismantled for their timber.

On the 6th September 1998, at the end of my journey, I had arrived in Venice, together with two Italian friends, Dario and Michele. It was Regatta Day (the Telegraph series of articles and pictures tell the story of the Regatta). That day was to be the last day of my stay in Italy, as I was due to catch a plane from Milan the next morning, heading back to my home in Scotland.  The images above of the Regatta in times past, near the Rialto bridge, were sent to me by Luigi Boatto.  But... the Regatta had been held for centuries before photography was invented!

The following is a quote from one of the Telegraph articles:

On the first Sunday of every September, hundreds of Venetians pile into the long boats that have plied the city's canals for centuries for the 'Regata Storica' (Historical Regatta), a historical procession that commemorates the welcome given to Caterina Cornaro, wife of the King of Cyprus, in 1489 after she renounced her throne in favour of Venice.

San Simeone Piccolo and the Ponte della Croce [Dorling Kindersley: VENICE pocket map and guide]

San Simeone Piccolo  [© P.A.G. 1998]

Dario, Michele and myself made our way back to the Santa Lucia railway station and strolled down the north bank of the Canal Grande, looking in passing at the lovely church of San Simeone Piccolo across the canal.

Boats of the Regatta passing the Ponte della Croce [© P.A.G. 1998]

The Regatta was now in full swing.  

To the right of the photo above is the Ponte della Croce, where the Rio Nuovo joins the Canal Grande.  

The Ponte della Croce [artist: Tonino Caputo] 

It is interesting to compare the photo with this painting by the famous Italian artist Tonino Caputo (b. 1933).

More boats passing the Ponte della Croce [© P.A.G. 1998]

Boats passed by going in all directions...

The Regatta is not just an all-male event...  [© P.A.G. 1998]

...crewed by both sexes...  

A boat from Caorle passing crowds on the steps (top, centre) of San Simeone Piccolo [© P.A.G. 1998]

.. arriving from all localities.  Caorle is a small port on the Adriatic coast to the north of Venice.

Not the size of the Bucintoro, but... [© P.A.G. 1998]

The last Doge, Manin, owned the most sumptuous vessel ever to sail these waters.  It was called the Bucintoro and was covered in a wealth of fine gold embellishments.   After the surrender of Venice to the French troops, Napoleon had it burnt in order to recover the precious metals and to show his domination over Venice.  Only the figurehead survived.

The same boat, viewed from the other side of the Ponte delgli Scalzi [© P.A.G. 1998]

Boats of all sizes came past, some large and impressive...

Not the largest, but they came from afar... [© P.A.G. 1998]

...others more modest.  All seemed to be having a great time...  

So many boats to photograph... [© P.A.G. 1998]

I spent much time and several rolls of film on the Ponte degli Scalzi snapping as many photos as I could - far too many to include in this post.  

Dario, as the lone cyclist of Venice  [© P.A.G. 1998]

Then it was time to go to the station and rescue Una, my trusty folding bicycle, from the station locker.  

Michele goes for speed  [© P.A.G. 1998]

We decided, as she had been ridden all the way from Monte Peralba to Venice, that we could let her have a spin around the station forecourt.


Dario looked very pleased, as well he might - there weren't any other cyclists in Venice!  In the backbround you can see the Ponte degli Salszi and the dome of San Geremia.


Michele went for speed!  No one seemed to mind our exploits, though most people looked puzzled!


I look puzzled myself in the photo below - I was probably wondering where I was going to sleep and eat that night when I arrived in Verona - one of my favourite Italian cities.  


My aim was to rise early in Verona the next morning and catch the train to Milan, and thence to the airport.  I didn't want to spend my last evening in Milan, which most definitely isn't on my list of favourites!

Me, looking puzzled  [© P.A.G. 1998]

So I said  thank you and goodbye to my dear friends Michele and Dario, folded up Una, put her in her sacco, said arrivederci to Venice and made my way to the train.  

It wasn't expensive to travel by train in Italy in 1998!  [© P.A.G. 1998]

I was sad to  be leaving Venice, but boarding the train for Verona was a good feeling.

Note: This blog supports readers of The Door of Perarolo, a historical novel set in Cadore, Italy in the early nineteenth century.  You can examine feedback from readers in the UK here and in the US here.  The Door of Perarolo is a Kindle ebook comprising 140 relatively short chapters - good for bedtime reading!  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.

If you'd like to track these blog posts, you can follow me, Peter Alexander Gray, on Facebook.

NEW: I have now added a total of five maps to the Kindle version of The Door of Perarolo.