We were loath to get up and leave our lodgings this morning, such was the luxury of our room. Moreover Piacenza seemed like our sort of place. After a campers’ breakfast in our room (breakfast is served late on a Sunday), we dragged ourselves away.
The streets were Sunday-empty as we headed on our way eastwards. There was little sign of life other than the occasional Turkish Kebab joint cleaning out and getting ready for the day’s business. Very soon what fog there had been had burned off and the slowly rising sun warmed our faces. As with so many cities and large towns we’ve passed through, it took an age to clear the built up area; in this case more than an hour. Even then we were very soon into a satellite village with an extensive light industrial zone.
After several false hopes, we found a bench for the first of the day’s rest stops, inside a fenced dog agility compound. As there were no dogs, let alone any owners needing exercise, we thought it fair game to go inside and occupy a bench in the sun for a few minutes. No sooner had we entered the compound than a dog and its owner appeared and very nicely tried to persuade us to sit across the road on a seat under a canopy which would not be so wet with dew. Preferring the seat in the sun, we turned down his suggestion.
After leaving the industrial area we had an unpleasant couple of kilometres walk along a busy road with nowhere for pedestrians except a minimal hard shoulder. Crossing the bridge over the Torrente Nure we were disappointed to see that there was no water flowing and the riverbed was completely dry. We were reminded of the farmer we met yesterday checking his winter wheat who commented that his crop hasn’t had the rain it needs so far this autumn.
Leaving the busy road, with considerable relief, we walked around several fields, still on a tarmac path, and into the small town of Pontenure. Two elderly gentlemen wearing jackets with the Guardie Ambientale d’Italia logo, who were out litter-picking, stopped us to ask where we had come from and where we were going. They were very encouraging, and one told us he had learned English when working in London.
Round the corner we found an extensive Sunday bric-a-brac market in full swing, selling (or trying to sell) every conceivable item, from clothing to books, plates to old tools and fishing reels. Just like at home, there were more browsers than buyers. At the far end of the market street a cafe was doing a good trade and we thought we should help them out, so stopped for a coffee and jam biscuit (tastier than it sounds, and not too sweet). Our two gentlemen arrived again, and having compared our ages, told us they walk in the Apennines. They thought it would take us a week to walk to Rome, so must think we are super-fit. The reality is it will take us another 38 days of walking!
Much of the rest of the day was spent walking along country roads, zig-zagging around fields and farmsteads, moving from one small hamlet to the next. Apart from the Apennines emerging on the horizon once the sun had burnt off the early morning mist there was little of note to see in the flat landscape. However, we did learn that the route we were on commemorates an Italian cyclist who won a gold medal at the London 1948 Olympics, one Guido Bernardi.
In many respects this area reminds us of northern France, with huge fields containing a small range of arable crops, few trees, no hedges, and no birds or other wildlife to be seen or heard. The key difference here is the network of drainage/irrigation channels carving up the fields.
As today was Remembrance Sunday at home – and we would usually have been singing in our local church service – at just before midday (1100 GMT) we found a roadside bench outside the Centro Pastorale Bellotta to sit in silence for two minutes for our own act of remembrance. Remembrance Day in Italy was observed a few days ago, on 04 November, the anniversary of the end of hostilities with the Austro-Hungarian armies in 1918.
On the outskirts of the village of Paderna we were able to sit by an oak tree in a field near the cemetery to eat our filled rolls and oranges, watching a farmer disking a huge field that had previously been ploughed. He worked right through lunchtime, though it was an enormous field – on a Sunday too.. We then realised that by having taken a short-cut we had missed passing the Castello owned by the Duke of Parma and Piacenza.
Whilst the sun was setting on the Apennines behind us, the main excitement of the day was a ford crossing which, on first approach, looked like it was going to involve wading through a couple of feet of water, and getting very wet feet! As we got closer we were relieved to see some large concrete blocks arranged as stepping stones, so we just had to jump the gaps without slipping into the water. Here was one blessing of the drought year.
The sun set at about 1645, leaving us with about 4-5 kilometres to walk in the gathering gloom. The head torches we’ve been carrying for weeks were finally put to use once we got into the urban area of Fiorenzuola to try to make sure car drivers could see us as there was no street lighting in the outskirts of town.
As our hotel is owned by a family which runs a second hotel we had to go to the other hotel to check in and would have to return there for breakfast. Fortunately we were able to get a room in the hotel serving breakfast, and it was very comfortable. Unfortunately their restaurant was closed for Sunday night, but the hotel manager was very helpful with advice on other places we could eat.
The best thing about today’s very long walk of over 30 kilometres was completing it! …….and the Weiss Beer at the restaurant in the evening.
Nice little collection 🙂