The flight was uneventful. We could have carried more on board and saved ourselves a load of money, but who was to know?
Bristol was overcast and a lot cooler than Italy. I suppose it was a nice day in UK terms. We got unpacked, started the washing, did a big shop, had dinner and then caught up on e-mail and blogs. So here we are. Back to 'reality'. Back on the (temporarily) unemployed pile for me, and soon enough back to work for J. Sigh.
Tuesday 28 August 2007
Pisa for dinner
We cleaned up, dropped the keys off, posted some 'excess baggage' (for which we were gouged, and which we could have carried on board as it happens), left a charity pack with K,and headed off. There was much left undone, but hopefully also enough done. Time will tell.
We took the Autostrada north, this time getting a biglietto first. Lunch was in a Servizio but we stopped at Sienna for a look. It is a lovely town that deserves longer than we gave it. Perhaps on our third trip?
Our route (and more dodgy sign-posting) took us through the Tuscan countryside and it lived up to its postcard stereotypes. It was lovely.
In Pisa we stayed in a hotel in the centre of the old town, very close to the Piazza del Duomo and of course the leaning tower. We got settled in and then went to have a look. The sun had just gone down but we could see the tower and would even have gone up if it had been cheaper that 15 euros each. The walk around was nice anyway and we took some self-portraits which you might find on J's blog. It is so easy to think of Pisa as a leaning tower and nothing else, but it has Roman ruins, extensive medieval walls and, of course, many significant buildings other than the tower.
Dinner was late, but yummy, and the town is surprisingly empty of tourists at night so was pleasant to wander around for a while. A good note to finish our trip on. After 4 weeks of hot nights and yapping dogs, it was a luxury to have air-con and silence. Mmmm.
We took the Autostrada north, this time getting a biglietto first. Lunch was in a Servizio but we stopped at Sienna for a look. It is a lovely town that deserves longer than we gave it. Perhaps on our third trip?
Our route (and more dodgy sign-posting) took us through the Tuscan countryside and it lived up to its postcard stereotypes. It was lovely.
In Pisa we stayed in a hotel in the centre of the old town, very close to the Piazza del Duomo and of course the leaning tower. We got settled in and then went to have a look. The sun had just gone down but we could see the tower and would even have gone up if it had been cheaper that 15 euros each. The walk around was nice anyway and we took some self-portraits which you might find on J's blog. It is so easy to think of Pisa as a leaning tower and nothing else, but it has Roman ruins, extensive medieval walls and, of course, many significant buildings other than the tower.
Dinner was late, but yummy, and the town is surprisingly empty of tourists at night so was pleasant to wander around for a while. A good note to finish our trip on. After 4 weeks of hot nights and yapping dogs, it was a luxury to have air-con and silence. Mmmm.
Last day in Cassino
I had one last go at finding my unidentified series of photos. I drove to Venafro and ruled that out as having a similar but different ridgeline. The drive over the old road from San Pietro offered magnificent views back to Cassino and on to Venafro. I came back through San Vittore and Cervaro and ruled both of them out as well. If the Italians can't help all I can do is look for video footage that might show the same exercises.
We were booked to have lunch and dinner with L and C, while also packing and cleaning sometime. We had a frustratingly leisurely lunch before heading up the hill to L's uncle AV. This is the house (on Pt 475) where Mum and R and I had lunch with the four German vets back in 2004. From there we walked up the hill with the intention of getting a view from Colle Maiola. Sadly this peak is also overgrown, but we got views from a little further down the ridge. L found half a German 75mm shell that A thought was from a tank or anti-tank gun. Curious place to end up if so.
We then walked down to the Polish Doctor's house where the views were magnificent. There was a full moon and the Abbey was bathed in that warm evening light you get at dusk. We surprised the owners a little but it was all OK after L explained who we were. They showed me the plaque the Poles had put up. (Polish memorials are everywhere, but there is only one for the Kiwis, at the railway station, and I haven't seen any at all for the Indians. There is a memorial to the 1/4 Essex at the Castle too.) These views were superb, but with the vegetation they were very different to those of 1944, and it is sometimes hard to make out landmarks. I didn't even try for matches under these circumstances.
L had said his lights weren't working on his Land Rover, and by the time we had said goodbye to his uncle and cousins it was well dark. I had visions of driving down mountain tracks with a cigarette lighter to guide the way, but it turned out that high beam worked, if intermittently. It is still a little disconcerting to come to a hairpin turn and have the lights suddenly go off.
We did make it safely back and had dinner with the extended family. It was a quiet, tired affair. We said our final goodbyes (or "see you later"s) and were embarrassed when L and C gave a gift as we had nothing in return. Arrivederci.
We were booked to have lunch and dinner with L and C, while also packing and cleaning sometime. We had a frustratingly leisurely lunch before heading up the hill to L's uncle AV. This is the house (on Pt 475) where Mum and R and I had lunch with the four German vets back in 2004. From there we walked up the hill with the intention of getting a view from Colle Maiola. Sadly this peak is also overgrown, but we got views from a little further down the ridge. L found half a German 75mm shell that A thought was from a tank or anti-tank gun. Curious place to end up if so.
We then walked down to the Polish Doctor's house where the views were magnificent. There was a full moon and the Abbey was bathed in that warm evening light you get at dusk. We surprised the owners a little but it was all OK after L explained who we were. They showed me the plaque the Poles had put up. (Polish memorials are everywhere, but there is only one for the Kiwis, at the railway station, and I haven't seen any at all for the Indians. There is a memorial to the 1/4 Essex at the Castle too.) These views were superb, but with the vegetation they were very different to those of 1944, and it is sometimes hard to make out landmarks. I didn't even try for matches under these circumstances.
L had said his lights weren't working on his Land Rover, and by the time we had said goodbye to his uncle and cousins it was well dark. I had visions of driving down mountain tracks with a cigarette lighter to guide the way, but it turned out that high beam worked, if intermittently. It is still a little disconcerting to come to a hairpin turn and have the lights suddenly go off.
We did make it safely back and had dinner with the extended family. It was a quiet, tired affair. We said our final goodbyes (or "see you later"s) and were embarrassed when L and C gave a gift as we had nothing in return. Arrivederci.
Alatri
I spent the Saturday morning catching up on e-mail, and labelling the photographs I'd taken up the hill. It wasn't until late afternoon that J dragged me away on a road trip. We visited a hill-top town called Alatri that had a magnificent acropolis on its top dating from pre-Roman times. It was constructed from rather large blocks of stone and was some feat of engineering. The views were magnificent and by coincidence were of country that the 18th Regt had helped the Indians to clear of Germans back in '44. K's dad had been a part of that, as a signals man. The view over the town took in the old buildings with their terracotta roofs, church campaniles, clock towers and so on, and then behind them you could see other villages across the valley and even further up in the mountains. Very picturesque, and typically Italian.
I can't let the entry finish without mentioning Frosinone. Last time I passed through Frosinone my mother heard a stream of invective unmatched in that trip. Italians don't know how to sign-post and Frosinone is the nadir of their competence. A major road, the Via Cassalini, or SS6 peters out completely and starts again somewhere on the other side of town. Meanwhile travellers are left to guess which is the correct direction to go to join the two ends. As in 2004, this time twice. We lost the road to Alatri which occassioned great swearing, and on the way back we lost the way back to Cassino. J had to drive I was so steamed, and now she winds me up about it something wicked. (Whatever she says don't believe her - she's a liar. 8-)) F^%$#ing Italian signposters. The best part was the attempt to do a quick U-turn in a side lane only to unluckily find it one way the other way, and by some freakishly unfortunate coincidence have two cars coming up it at that very moment. Quick manouevre ended up being a study in confusion.
I can't let the entry finish without mentioning Frosinone. Last time I passed through Frosinone my mother heard a stream of invective unmatched in that trip. Italians don't know how to sign-post and Frosinone is the nadir of their competence. A major road, the Via Cassalini, or SS6 peters out completely and starts again somewhere on the other side of town. Meanwhile travellers are left to guess which is the correct direction to go to join the two ends. As in 2004, this time twice. We lost the road to Alatri which occassioned great swearing, and on the way back we lost the way back to Cassino. J had to drive I was so steamed, and now she winds me up about it something wicked. (Whatever she says don't believe her - she's a liar. 8-)) F^%$#ing Italian signposters. The best part was the attempt to do a quick U-turn in a side lane only to unluckily find it one way the other way, and by some freakishly unfortunate coincidence have two cars coming up it at that very moment. Quick manouevre ended up being a study in confusion.
Cavendish Rd
Cavendish Rd was originally a mule track that had been improved by Indian sappers with some Kiwi help (including RM) until it was able to carry jeeps and even tanks to the top of the hills behind the Abbey. (Later it became known as the 'Road of the Polish Sappers' which is a bit bloody rude if you ask me.) On March 19, 1944 40 light and medium tanks attacked German positions after climbing this road in the previous days. On August 24, 2007 I also went looking for German positions.
J was forced to get up as early as I as she was driving me to the bottom of the track. She dropped me sometime between 7:30 and 8:00am then went home with the intention of going back to sleep. (She failed due to a chain-saw next door.) The road is in pretty good nick 60 years on, but is no longer complete. Two sections have washed out, and several have been overgrown. Sadly one of the most important sections historically, and the most photographed, is the worst overgrown. This section, known as Region A, was virtually impossible to get matches for because of the new vegetation. If I was in Cassino for any length of time I would make it a mission to clear some of it out. Time and a big knife is all it would require for the most part. In fact the road could be traversed quite easily by motorbike or quad bike, so these could be used for tours...
The actual climb didn't take long, but the photo taking did. I had started at about 8:00am and it was an overcast day but it still was causing me to sweat buckets and I discovered the frozen water wasn't thawing in the insulating back-pack! From the top of the track it would have been quite an easy walk along the valley, but I wanted to get up on Phantom Ridge, and if possible to M. Collerone at the top of the ridge. I found a track part way up but couldn't get to the peak. Instead I got as close as possible to Colle San Angelo, and then headed down Phantom Ridge to find some ruins known as Phantom House. It was quite a buzz to succeed in this, and to get some recognisable matches. As an indication of how dangerous the area had been for the infantrymen of both sides that were in these positions, there were 5 unexploded 3" mortar bombs that someone with a metal detector had obviously collected. On a smaller scale were the many fragments and ration tins lying around, and I did find a large shell casing that I later donated to Lorenzo.
At this point things got a bit sticky. I tried to find my way down the hill to Cavendish but got blocked by vegetation so doubled back. The map said there was a path and a track running parallel to the Ridge on its other side so I headed down the hill there. Sadly I had miss-read where my start point was so ended up crashing through brambles for half-an-hour or more. By the time I came out I must have looked like the wild man of Borneo. Thankfully I only saw one snake and it was heading in the opposite direction. Apparently the hills are alive with them on sunny days, and the vipers are particularly nasty.
I walked on to Massa Albaneta where I tried to meet with J, but she wasn't allowed through the gates. There were a few more shots back up the valley before I staggered out at about 5:00pm. J had been waiting since the abbey closed at 12:30 so was less than impressed. There's only so much looking at Polish graves that a girl can do! A few beers and several other drinks later and I'd partially recovered from a long, hot, exhausting, but ultimately personally rewarding day.
That night we shouted L and C out for dinner. It was a little awkward as we don't have enough language for an in-depth conversation. We have learnt very little about C and don't see much of her between the kitchen and looking after R. A very Italian life-style, but possibly not very rewarding for her. They finished the evening off by shouting gelati. There is a shop that is famous in Cassino for its gelati: Green Garden. There is always a crowd there at night and it has been busy enough everytime we've gone past. Delicious Lime as well as 'Bounty' flavour for me this time.
J was forced to get up as early as I as she was driving me to the bottom of the track. She dropped me sometime between 7:30 and 8:00am then went home with the intention of going back to sleep. (She failed due to a chain-saw next door.) The road is in pretty good nick 60 years on, but is no longer complete. Two sections have washed out, and several have been overgrown. Sadly one of the most important sections historically, and the most photographed, is the worst overgrown. This section, known as Region A, was virtually impossible to get matches for because of the new vegetation. If I was in Cassino for any length of time I would make it a mission to clear some of it out. Time and a big knife is all it would require for the most part. In fact the road could be traversed quite easily by motorbike or quad bike, so these could be used for tours...
The actual climb didn't take long, but the photo taking did. I had started at about 8:00am and it was an overcast day but it still was causing me to sweat buckets and I discovered the frozen water wasn't thawing in the insulating back-pack! From the top of the track it would have been quite an easy walk along the valley, but I wanted to get up on Phantom Ridge, and if possible to M. Collerone at the top of the ridge. I found a track part way up but couldn't get to the peak. Instead I got as close as possible to Colle San Angelo, and then headed down Phantom Ridge to find some ruins known as Phantom House. It was quite a buzz to succeed in this, and to get some recognisable matches. As an indication of how dangerous the area had been for the infantrymen of both sides that were in these positions, there were 5 unexploded 3" mortar bombs that someone with a metal detector had obviously collected. On a smaller scale were the many fragments and ration tins lying around, and I did find a large shell casing that I later donated to Lorenzo.
At this point things got a bit sticky. I tried to find my way down the hill to Cavendish but got blocked by vegetation so doubled back. The map said there was a path and a track running parallel to the Ridge on its other side so I headed down the hill there. Sadly I had miss-read where my start point was so ended up crashing through brambles for half-an-hour or more. By the time I came out I must have looked like the wild man of Borneo. Thankfully I only saw one snake and it was heading in the opposite direction. Apparently the hills are alive with them on sunny days, and the vipers are particularly nasty.
I walked on to Massa Albaneta where I tried to meet with J, but she wasn't allowed through the gates. There were a few more shots back up the valley before I staggered out at about 5:00pm. J had been waiting since the abbey closed at 12:30 so was less than impressed. There's only so much looking at Polish graves that a girl can do! A few beers and several other drinks later and I'd partially recovered from a long, hot, exhausting, but ultimately personally rewarding day.
That night we shouted L and C out for dinner. It was a little awkward as we don't have enough language for an in-depth conversation. We have learnt very little about C and don't see much of her between the kitchen and looking after R. A very Italian life-style, but possibly not very rewarding for her. They finished the evening off by shouting gelati. There is a shop that is famous in Cassino for its gelati: Green Garden. There is always a crowd there at night and it has been busy enough everytime we've gone past. Delicious Lime as well as 'Bounty' flavour for me this time.
Lunch with Kiwis, and chasing river crossings
We had arranged morning tea with KS, her father and her friend. K lives in a tiny village called Caprile that is on the slopes of the same range as Cassino, but further north. It overlooks the Liri valley, and the area where her father rested after the 18th Armoured Regt chased the Germans through the hills. K thinks she found his billet just below her village - quite a coincidence. Her own house had been a German supply depot during the war, and there was still the odd reminder, such as the barbed wire in the cellar.
The morning tea extended to lunch as we were joined by an Italian historian, AC, and the women went off to the market. I have started to get to know quite an inter-connected bunch of people here. Everyone with an interest in the history seems to know everyone else. L knows A and R, who know K who knows J, and the bloke I met in Caspoli knows GB who also knows K and A and R and probably J. Lunch was more Kiwi style than Italian but still filled up the mid-day. It was lovely hospitality that we can't repay directly.
After lunch I prepared for the big hike up Cavendish Rd. I had to print off the dozens of relevant photos so I had them handy to try to match. Unfortunately the printer was sucking up ink at a great rate, so I didn't get finished.
Rather than do the climb unprepared, the next day (Friday) I went out taking matches for the DIADEM battles. I got some in towns along the route of advance that may be useful to JP as samples of the fighting, but it was not the exhaustive treatment I had hoped for when I headed over to Cassino. Some were easy and some I couldn't find even when the village was named. It appears that the photographers were not always accurate in their captioning... (There was one photographer who gave map-references, but I didn't get to that series at all.) It was still quite a satisfying day, for the matches accomplished and for the feel for the battlefield.
I find it a little strange that I have a better knowledge of the crossings than the local historians, although I have had access to the English archives that they haven't. On the other hand, it is a short trip to London for them...
J had found a place that sold refill ink for the cartridges so I was back in business. Many sheets later (two refills) and I had pretty much all that I needed. Frozen water, sunscreen, maps and so on completed the preparations, and I even allowed that shoes would be more sensible than jandals on this occasion. I was all set for the next day.
The morning tea extended to lunch as we were joined by an Italian historian, AC, and the women went off to the market. I have started to get to know quite an inter-connected bunch of people here. Everyone with an interest in the history seems to know everyone else. L knows A and R, who know K who knows J, and the bloke I met in Caspoli knows GB who also knows K and A and R and probably J. Lunch was more Kiwi style than Italian but still filled up the mid-day. It was lovely hospitality that we can't repay directly.
After lunch I prepared for the big hike up Cavendish Rd. I had to print off the dozens of relevant photos so I had them handy to try to match. Unfortunately the printer was sucking up ink at a great rate, so I didn't get finished.
Rather than do the climb unprepared, the next day (Friday) I went out taking matches for the DIADEM battles. I got some in towns along the route of advance that may be useful to JP as samples of the fighting, but it was not the exhaustive treatment I had hoped for when I headed over to Cassino. Some were easy and some I couldn't find even when the village was named. It appears that the photographers were not always accurate in their captioning... (There was one photographer who gave map-references, but I didn't get to that series at all.) It was still quite a satisfying day, for the matches accomplished and for the feel for the battlefield.
I find it a little strange that I have a better knowledge of the crossings than the local historians, although I have had access to the English archives that they haven't. On the other hand, it is a short trip to London for them...
J had found a place that sold refill ink for the cartridges so I was back in business. Many sheets later (two refills) and I had pretty much all that I needed. Frozen water, sunscreen, maps and so on completed the preparations, and I even allowed that shoes would be more sensible than jandals on this occasion. I was all set for the next day.
When in Rome...
See J's blog for photos - she's been better at keeping these up to date.
Rome was wonderful of course. You walk amongst evidence of civilisation that stretches continuously back in time for, what, 3000 years? In fact there are remains of stone age settlements under the Roman buildings under the Medieval under the Fascist under the 21st Century. It's hard to get your head around sometimes. St Peter's has awed me three times now with its sheer scale. Whether you are religious or not you would be hard-pressed not to find something that made you reflect on the nature of man. The effort, skill and resources that went into this building are difficult to match. It is hard to think of one that might compare today, if any such task ever got off the ground. I don't think that a skyscraper comes close, as it can be done with one conglomerate, and even the huge dams like the 3 Gorges don't use the same resources when you compare them to the size of the population bases involved. It was a very hot, and for the first time humid, day and I was exhausted, so yet again I didn't climb up the Dome. I don't think a cup of tea has tasted as good very often.
J didn't feel the need to see the Coliseum and the queue was quite long. Not a pick-pocket to be seen, unlike when P and I were there. We visited the Capitoline museums instead for a wonderful mix of art and archeology. One building, overlooking the Forum, had so many different layers there were buildings within buildings, rooms built over rooms and so on, so that I never really understood what the building was. Great views though.
We wandered back to the station and I finally saw the Spanish steps (from a distance) and the Trevi Fountains (through a crowd). It is amazing the number of people who are at all these 'must see' places, jostling to see past all the others and all taking the same photographs. (I'm no exception either.) It can be a wierd thing, tourism.
I was truly shagged by the time we got home, but it had been a good day.
Rome was wonderful of course. You walk amongst evidence of civilisation that stretches continuously back in time for, what, 3000 years? In fact there are remains of stone age settlements under the Roman buildings under the Medieval under the Fascist under the 21st Century. It's hard to get your head around sometimes. St Peter's has awed me three times now with its sheer scale. Whether you are religious or not you would be hard-pressed not to find something that made you reflect on the nature of man. The effort, skill and resources that went into this building are difficult to match. It is hard to think of one that might compare today, if any such task ever got off the ground. I don't think that a skyscraper comes close, as it can be done with one conglomerate, and even the huge dams like the 3 Gorges don't use the same resources when you compare them to the size of the population bases involved. It was a very hot, and for the first time humid, day and I was exhausted, so yet again I didn't climb up the Dome. I don't think a cup of tea has tasted as good very often.
J didn't feel the need to see the Coliseum and the queue was quite long. Not a pick-pocket to be seen, unlike when P and I were there. We visited the Capitoline museums instead for a wonderful mix of art and archeology. One building, overlooking the Forum, had so many different layers there were buildings within buildings, rooms built over rooms and so on, so that I never really understood what the building was. Great views though.
We wandered back to the station and I finally saw the Spanish steps (from a distance) and the Trevi Fountains (through a crowd). It is amazing the number of people who are at all these 'must see' places, jostling to see past all the others and all taking the same photographs. (I'm no exception either.) It can be a wierd thing, tourism.
I was truly shagged by the time we got home, but it had been a good day.
Monday 20 August 2007
Rivers to cross
Today I visited every river crossing I knew about in the Gari River. Some from both sides. Ask me anything, go on.
I got a letter from my Mum which was great, and full of NZ news which we don't get. Feel free to use the comments to send us news at any time!
Off to Rome tomorrow so beddy byes now.
Ciao
I got a letter from my Mum which was great, and full of NZ news which we don't get. Feel free to use the comments to send us news at any time!
Off to Rome tomorrow so beddy byes now.
Ciao
More around town
More photos around town but after another huge lunch at Lorenzo's, this time as warm up for his sister's first wedding anniversary. We have invited Christina and Lorenzo out for dinner - our shout. We owe them heaps of hospitality, and don't think they'll go for sausages, peas and mashed spuds.
Thanks for all the comments and emails. Shame about the hockey finals, eh lads? When does the web presence begin W?
Thanks for all the comments and emails. Shame about the hockey finals, eh lads? When does the web presence begin W?
Chasing geese (wild ones)
I went for a drive around the other side of the Rapido Valley trying to track down some photos. Without a decent map it was rather pointless. I had really hoped to find the last series of photos for my article and I had a new clue - a ridgeline in a photo. Sadly it was elusive. I just can't place these last photographs which is really frustrating. I have now enlisted the help of the Italians so we'll see if they can help.
The afternoon was more productive as I stuck to photos around the town. I got several matches and sorted out some locations as well. It was a little cooler in the shade as well. I met J in town and we passaggiata'd and had a drink in a cafe while watching people go by. The Cioccolato Caldo is superb.
We had to move our mattress to the lounge to try to get away from the f^%$#^ing dog.
The afternoon was more productive as I stuck to photos around the town. I got several matches and sorted out some locations as well. It was a little cooler in the shade as well. I met J in town and we passaggiata'd and had a drink in a cafe while watching people go by. The Cioccolato Caldo is superb.
We had to move our mattress to the lounge to try to get away from the f^%$#^ing dog.
Friday 17 August 2007
To the beach
We checked our emails – 11 for J, 2 for me – and then headed off after lunch to the beach at Minturno. We had to drive across the battlefields to get there, but I took no photos. There was a distinct rotten egg smell on the way, and as neither of us owned up we went to check out the Terme at Suio. We didn’t actually stop, but this stretch of the Garigliano River Gorge has many springs with resorts around them. We don’t know if they are hot springs, but didn’t see any steam. The beach wasn’t quite as nice as the ones at Sperlonga, but were good enough. I guarantee I was the whitest person there…
Minturno (Mintunae to the Romans) has many Roman ruins and the British CWG for the area is also there. A section of an aquaduct that carried water from the hills to Minturnae cuts across the main road and is quite spectacular. There is a teatro, and forum and various other ruins to be seen. We didn’t stop though. We drove back behind San Ambrogio where the Brits were supposed to have attacked in Jan ’44, then through Sant Angelo in Theodice where the Yanks were rebuffed two days later from the ‘Bloody River’. Again we didn’t stop. No work today.
There is a band playing very loudly in town so we hope we’ll get some sleep.
At 10:46 an earthquake hit. It was just one big shake, like an explosion without sound. All the windows rattled and it gave us a hell of a fright. My nerves were still jangling minutes afterward, and car alarms were going off. It even stopped the music for a while!
Minturno (Mintunae to the Romans) has many Roman ruins and the British CWG for the area is also there. A section of an aquaduct that carried water from the hills to Minturnae cuts across the main road and is quite spectacular. There is a teatro, and forum and various other ruins to be seen. We didn’t stop though. We drove back behind San Ambrogio where the Brits were supposed to have attacked in Jan ’44, then through Sant Angelo in Theodice where the Yanks were rebuffed two days later from the ‘Bloody River’. Again we didn’t stop. No work today.
There is a band playing very loudly in town so we hope we’ll get some sleep.
At 10:46 an earthquake hit. It was just one big shake, like an explosion without sound. All the windows rattled and it gave us a hell of a fright. My nerves were still jangling minutes afterward, and car alarms were going off. It even stopped the music for a while!
Storming a castle
I climbed up to Rocca Janula this morning. Even at 9:00 it was damned hot work. I clambered up the rocks that mark the ridgeline and checked out the views. There isn’t much left of the old walls and towers on the ridge, but large areas of the Castle have been rebuilt. When I got close to the Castle I had to climb over a fence which had a sign on its other side saying "Pericosa. Esplosivi." It doesn’t take much Italian to work that out. I had wanted to climb down via the other walls that lead to the old town, but I was overheating so just had a quick look at the Peace Monument before walking down the road.
We had been invited to Lorenzo’s again, and this time lunch was even bigger! The extended family was there so it was quite a large affair. There were pasta dishes, several meat dishes, a couple of aubergine dishes, drinks, desserts, fruit, coffee… Mio Dio, I was full to bursting. I felt like Mr Creosote. We turned down the invite to dinner and waddled home.
After a kip we did our passaggiata again, this time following the procession through town for a while. Not being especially Catholic we zipped off to the stall area again. Everyone was dressed just that little bit nicer on this main night of the festival, except me in my jandals. We waited until the fireworks at 12:30 but they didn’t happen so we went to bed. At 1:00 there was a huge bang that rattled the windows, so out of bed we hopped! It was the promised Spetaculare and it lived up to its name. The sound echoes off the hill all around Cassino so the noise was as impressive as the light. Sorry, no photos this time.
We had been invited to Lorenzo’s again, and this time lunch was even bigger! The extended family was there so it was quite a large affair. There were pasta dishes, several meat dishes, a couple of aubergine dishes, drinks, desserts, fruit, coffee… Mio Dio, I was full to bursting. I felt like Mr Creosote. We turned down the invite to dinner and waddled home.
After a kip we did our passaggiata again, this time following the procession through town for a while. Not being especially Catholic we zipped off to the stall area again. Everyone was dressed just that little bit nicer on this main night of the festival, except me in my jandals. We waited until the fireworks at 12:30 but they didn’t happen so we went to bed. At 1:00 there was a huge bang that rattled the windows, so out of bed we hopped! It was the promised Spetaculare and it lived up to its name. The sound echoes off the hill all around Cassino so the noise was as impressive as the light. Sorry, no photos this time.
Festiva
I was out again looking for matches when the procession started for the celebration of the Ascension of Mary. She’s bigger than Christ over here. There was a bit of colour and a large crowd, but the fireworks seemed a little wasted in broad daylight. I went back to work but that night J and I did our passaggiata amidst the community of Cassino. This is where everyone checks out everyone else (J held her own). To add to the excitement there were stalls and lights and a few bands.
North Cassino again
I got quite a few matches today in the northern outskirts of Cassino. The Yanks had got in a small way here, and we took over from them. Our main attack came through here also. The Yanks had lost several tanks here and also had some captured. The captured ones may well have been used in the counter-attack against the Maori in the Railway Station. A few remain elusive, particularly ones of US mortar positions. Roads and driveways look very similar in this part of town and I am hesitant about trespassing. I was contacted by Kay Scott who is to set up a meeting with Roberto Molle of the History Association. The next two days are a religious holiday though, so not much will be happening. Did I mention it was hot, hot, hot?
A trip in the hills
I took some photos around north Cassino before heading up to Lorenzo’s to discover that lunch was a picnic and J was expected. We picked her up from where she had been walking in town then headed into the hills in a Land Rover. The track we took was called the ‘Honker Road’ in the war and had been a mule path originally until ‘improved’ to jeep track status. It was still jeep track status. Lorenzo took us to his Grandfather’s house in the hills behind Cassino, looking across the hillsides to the Abbey. (For those who follow the battle, it is to the west of the Great Bowl, below Monte Maiola.) The hills form a kind of U-shape, with one side of the U on the north outskirts of Cassino pointing at the Castle, and the other side running along the hills to the Monastery. The house is at the bend of the U and would have been a resting point for the Allies in their climb up the hill from the valley below. The house next door was the location of a Polish Anti-tank unit (and possibly others before them).
We had a quick look at the view over the ridge behind the house. It looks down on the Rapido Valley and there are still German sangars (shelters/gun-pits) along the ridge line. That the house was a hotspot was shown by the amount of shell fragments scattered around the house. Everywhere you looked there was another piece.
We had lunch – another grand affair that was far from a picnic. The rest of the family had walked up the hill to meet us so it was another full on meal. After that Lorenzo and his father took me up to where the Great Bowl meets the Little Bowl, with the intention of climbing Monte Maiola. Instead we wandered out to Pt 481 and Lorenzo fossicked with his metal detector. He found a clip and 7 spent cartridges from a point where the Yanks had reached the crest of the hill and had obviously fired on German positions. I scrambled around the rocks and found a complete British 2" mortar shell wedged in a crevice so tightly it couldn’t be moved. It shouldn’t have been fired there, so may simply have been dropped, which may explain why it hadn’t gone off. There were fragments everywhere here too, and Lorenzo was disappointed he didn’t get much of a haul. I think he wanted larger items.
It was getting late so we headed home, but not before a small adventure. We followed the road down into the Little Bowl, but as we spiralled down the bush closed in and more and more rocks blocked the road. We ended up heaving these aside until we found a place where we could turn. The paintwork got scratched to hell and there was nothing at the bottom to see in all the bush anyway. Fun though. The track back passed by the building used as a Battalion HQ by the different nationalities as they took over the lines. I think it may be the one mentioned in Harold Bond’s book, Return to Cassino as one where bodies lay outside because it was too dangerous to stop to clear them away.
Lorenzo’s dad, uncle and aunty walked back down the hill while we took the jeep track again. I was tired by the time we got home.
We had a quick look at the view over the ridge behind the house. It looks down on the Rapido Valley and there are still German sangars (shelters/gun-pits) along the ridge line. That the house was a hotspot was shown by the amount of shell fragments scattered around the house. Everywhere you looked there was another piece.
We had lunch – another grand affair that was far from a picnic. The rest of the family had walked up the hill to meet us so it was another full on meal. After that Lorenzo and his father took me up to where the Great Bowl meets the Little Bowl, with the intention of climbing Monte Maiola. Instead we wandered out to Pt 481 and Lorenzo fossicked with his metal detector. He found a clip and 7 spent cartridges from a point where the Yanks had reached the crest of the hill and had obviously fired on German positions. I scrambled around the rocks and found a complete British 2" mortar shell wedged in a crevice so tightly it couldn’t be moved. It shouldn’t have been fired there, so may simply have been dropped, which may explain why it hadn’t gone off. There were fragments everywhere here too, and Lorenzo was disappointed he didn’t get much of a haul. I think he wanted larger items.
It was getting late so we headed home, but not before a small adventure. We followed the road down into the Little Bowl, but as we spiralled down the bush closed in and more and more rocks blocked the road. We ended up heaving these aside until we found a place where we could turn. The paintwork got scratched to hell and there was nothing at the bottom to see in all the bush anyway. Fun though. The track back passed by the building used as a Battalion HQ by the different nationalities as they took over the lines. I think it may be the one mentioned in Harold Bond’s book, Return to Cassino as one where bodies lay outside because it was too dangerous to stop to clear them away.
Lorenzo’s dad, uncle and aunty walked back down the hill while we took the jeep track again. I was tired by the time we got home.
Italian lunch
I took no photos at all today! We were invited to lunch at Lorenzo’s house. We had suggested a restaurant but Christina whipped up lunch – a huge meal with all the courses the Italians do. Pasta for Prima Piatta, meat (or egg-plant for J) for Secondo Piatta, and Insalata, formaggi, and Dolci. I was quite full from that so hesitated when we were invited back for dinner. After a quick nap and an email check it was back again for dinner. Lorenzo’s parents and uncle and aunt were there so it was a family affair. The small dinner we had hoped for was, of course, huge – pizza and other plates followed by dessert. I checked out some of Lorenzo’s collection of militaria and books then we headed home, but only after accepting an invite to lunch the next day.
Saturday 11 August 2007
Mignano and Caspoli again
We had breakfast at a café so I could use the wi-fi hot-point but I left the damned card behind. Brekky was good all the same. When we came to leave we found a car had blocked us in. It’s that wonderful parking they do in Italy of course. I left J in town again and headed out to Mignano to try to track down the last of the matches. It was not to be. I got some around the town while clouds gathered, then headed off to try and find the local historian I had been told about. I did so but he took a while to get organised and by the time we had tried a few possible locations it had started to piss down. First rain in a month apparently, and the last I hope. I know I am close to one set of shots but can’t quite nail them, mainly because there is too much flora to see anything now. One last set eludes me completely as I can’t find enough clues as to where they are. Shame, as they are the ones I most want to match! The historian was useful and will be introducing me to a colleague who speaks English, so I will hopefully make some progress then.
'Museum' and Opera
We checked our emails at the Internet Café again. The Sicily house-sit is off. We never seemed to be on the right wavelength with them and in the end it seemed they just wanted employees who were to be paid in kind, and we didn’t see ourselves in that way. Anyway, we now have tickets to Sicily in winter but no place to stay, and no real reason to go. Still, we’ll make a holiday of it I’m sure. Speaking of which, C has booked her flights for January, so it will be nice to see her. O is coming too and we’re planning to spend some time in Paris. (Euro-Disney seems to be compulsory.)
After the catch-up we went to the Historiale, a new multi-media museum on the battles. Who should be handing out brochures but Egidio whom we met last time we were in Cassino: He and Lorenzo drove Ray and I around Cavendish Road. The walk to the Museum was along the banks of the Gari and sadly it proved to be the better part of the trip, as the museum was completely underwhelming, “full of sound and fury signifying nothing”. The sound effects, music and voiceover were far too loud, you had to have a guide who tried to push you along before you’d finished reading or looking at everything, and there was sweet F.A. information anyway. To top it off there was no NZ flag flying (but a Belgian one for goodness’ sake) and one rather inauthentic looking uniform for the Maori Battalion - there was a Jewish Brigade uniform in better condition and they didn’t even fight there! Another unfortunate point is that it seems to be competing with another museum around the corner that I visited last time. This town’s too small for the two of them and you’d think that they’d cooperate. I won’t be recommending this museum in my book. Better to spend the time at the cemetery and the Abbey.
After dinner we went to the Puccini opera Madama Bootairrrrfly. Culchared, that’s wot we is, see? It was in the open air Roman Theatre again and was quite a good show even with a language difference. Italians don’t look very Japanese though, even in make-up. Surprisingly there were still people arriving at least half and hour after it started, talking through it, and even leaving with ages to go! Just plain rude I thought. We stayed through the whole thing and enjoyed it all. If only Pinkerton (Peenkairtone) wasn’t such a fat bastard he may have made it in time…
After the catch-up we went to the Historiale, a new multi-media museum on the battles. Who should be handing out brochures but Egidio whom we met last time we were in Cassino: He and Lorenzo drove Ray and I around Cavendish Road. The walk to the Museum was along the banks of the Gari and sadly it proved to be the better part of the trip, as the museum was completely underwhelming, “full of sound and fury signifying nothing”. The sound effects, music and voiceover were far too loud, you had to have a guide who tried to push you along before you’d finished reading or looking at everything, and there was sweet F.A. information anyway. To top it off there was no NZ flag flying (but a Belgian one for goodness’ sake) and one rather inauthentic looking uniform for the Maori Battalion - there was a Jewish Brigade uniform in better condition and they didn’t even fight there! Another unfortunate point is that it seems to be competing with another museum around the corner that I visited last time. This town’s too small for the two of them and you’d think that they’d cooperate. I won’t be recommending this museum in my book. Better to spend the time at the cemetery and the Abbey.
After dinner we went to the Puccini opera Madama Bootairrrrfly. Culchared, that’s wot we is, see? It was in the open air Roman Theatre again and was quite a good show even with a language difference. Italians don’t look very Japanese though, even in make-up. Surprisingly there were still people arriving at least half and hour after it started, talking through it, and even leaving with ages to go! Just plain rude I thought. We stayed through the whole thing and enjoyed it all. If only Pinkerton (Peenkairtone) wasn’t such a fat bastard he may have made it in time…
Wednesday – the Abbey of Monte Cassino.
Last time I was in Cassino I never entered the Abbey! This time J made sure I did. I did some catch-up work in the morning, and then we headed up the hill after mezzogiorno. The Abbey was rebuilt to almost the same plan as the building pre-bombing so you get a good feel for what it was like. The views are fabulous, and the building is very interesting. Matches were out of the question as most of the photos were from areas that aren’t open to the public. The basilica was open and we heard the monks singing. It was a most beautiful sound in that environment, the sound floating around the church. I have a short recording but don’t know how to add it to the blog…
While J drove the car down the hill I scrambled over Hangman’s Hill, or Pt 435. During the battle a battalion from the 4th Indian Division, mainly Gurkhas, managed to get this far and then get stuck. They were ordered to wait for successes in battle elsewhere that never came, and then found themselves surrounded. Eventually they were able to sneak off the hill, and a contact here assures me that the Germans deliberately held their fire while they did so. It is hard to understand why they would do so however, and it is more likely the evacuation was unexpected and undetected. I found the remains of the cable-car gantry that gave the hill its name. In late ’43 a German pilot cut the cable while ‘hot-dogging’ as the Yanks call it. The gantry came to look like a gallows, hence the name. There are two big notches in the crest of the peak where the cars ran through, but otherwise the only remains are some metal supports and a pile of concrete. The scramble down caused J some alarm as I only had jandals on and it’s a mighty steep piece of rock.
Once she was sure I was safe she headed home while I continued down the mountain on the old road. This appears to be Roman, or at least medieval and is still in very good condition along most of its route. It kind of zigs when the main road zags and v.v., so they cross several times. I passed through Pt 236 and scrambled through the brambles looking for a way down to Pt 165 directly but without success. I did find several broken TVs, some aluminium doors, various tins, and the odd washing-machine bowl, but I don’t think they were durante la guerre somehow. For all the scrambling I found one tiny fragment, from under Hangman’s Hill.
Anyway, I wandered down to Pt 165 and the Castle. The latter is closed and under reconstruction, just as it was last time I visited. The former has the remains of a house on it that was a strongpoint for both sides at times, but mostly German, so I had to go through more bloody bramble to get shots of it. Then I snuck through the fence to battle the bramble outside the Castle. I found the foundations of what was known as the ‘Yellow House’ (because it was yellow, dummies), and then took some matches for the position where a German Stug III was destroyed by a very brave Nissan (Japanese) American bazookaman.
(Incidentally, with all these vicious scratching, prickly bushes I really wish they had a good fire on these hills instead of the ones across the valley.)
I didn’t have time before sunset to investigate the Castle again so popped over the fence to the surprise of three Italians and headed down the hill again. I walked through the remains of the old town that are now overgrown with bush and returning to nature. It was like walking through a cemetery in a way – the ghost of a town. I’m not quite sure how I’ll get matches in those area. 8-)
That night we found a wi-fi hotspot, did some blogging and checked emails. Not much for me. The Army are still not seeing my way and I haven’t heard back from the CAB with their advice yet.
Last time I was in Cassino I never entered the Abbey! This time J made sure I did. I did some catch-up work in the morning, and then we headed up the hill after mezzogiorno. The Abbey was rebuilt to almost the same plan as the building pre-bombing so you get a good feel for what it was like. The views are fabulous, and the building is very interesting. Matches were out of the question as most of the photos were from areas that aren’t open to the public. The basilica was open and we heard the monks singing. It was a most beautiful sound in that environment, the sound floating around the church. I have a short recording but don’t know how to add it to the blog…
While J drove the car down the hill I scrambled over Hangman’s Hill, or Pt 435. During the battle a battalion from the 4th Indian Division, mainly Gurkhas, managed to get this far and then get stuck. They were ordered to wait for successes in battle elsewhere that never came, and then found themselves surrounded. Eventually they were able to sneak off the hill, and a contact here assures me that the Germans deliberately held their fire while they did so. It is hard to understand why they would do so however, and it is more likely the evacuation was unexpected and undetected. I found the remains of the cable-car gantry that gave the hill its name. In late ’43 a German pilot cut the cable while ‘hot-dogging’ as the Yanks call it. The gantry came to look like a gallows, hence the name. There are two big notches in the crest of the peak where the cars ran through, but otherwise the only remains are some metal supports and a pile of concrete. The scramble down caused J some alarm as I only had jandals on and it’s a mighty steep piece of rock.
Once she was sure I was safe she headed home while I continued down the mountain on the old road. This appears to be Roman, or at least medieval and is still in very good condition along most of its route. It kind of zigs when the main road zags and v.v., so they cross several times. I passed through Pt 236 and scrambled through the brambles looking for a way down to Pt 165 directly but without success. I did find several broken TVs, some aluminium doors, various tins, and the odd washing-machine bowl, but I don’t think they were durante la guerre somehow. For all the scrambling I found one tiny fragment, from under Hangman’s Hill.
Anyway, I wandered down to Pt 165 and the Castle. The latter is closed and under reconstruction, just as it was last time I visited. The former has the remains of a house on it that was a strongpoint for both sides at times, but mostly German, so I had to go through more bloody bramble to get shots of it. Then I snuck through the fence to battle the bramble outside the Castle. I found the foundations of what was known as the ‘Yellow House’ (because it was yellow, dummies), and then took some matches for the position where a German Stug III was destroyed by a very brave Nissan (Japanese) American bazookaman.
(Incidentally, with all these vicious scratching, prickly bushes I really wish they had a good fire on these hills instead of the ones across the valley.)
I didn’t have time before sunset to investigate the Castle again so popped over the fence to the surprise of three Italians and headed down the hill again. I walked through the remains of the old town that are now overgrown with bush and returning to nature. It was like walking through a cemetery in a way – the ghost of a town. I’m not quite sure how I’ll get matches in those area. 8-)
That night we found a wi-fi hotspot, did some blogging and checked emails. Not much for me. The Army are still not seeing my way and I haven’t heard back from the CAB with their advice yet.
Tuesday – back to Mignano
Today I took prints with me which made the job much easier, but it used up the first cartridge on our very cheap printer though and I had to buy refills which cost more than the printer! I got out to Mignano and had much more success in tracking down the locations, although it took some detective work to figure out where the old and new buildings were. A couple of young guys at the café I had lunch in were interested so I explained what I was doing. One said there was a way to get into the Castello but I couldn’t find it when I tried. I’ll ask again next time.
The next series of shots was around where 22 Bn had camped. I found the first one just where Google Earth had shown it. The next lot were in a village called Caspoli according to GE so I set off there but got onto a wild goose chase up through more brambles to some old buildings which were not the ones I wanted. Now my diesel was getting low so I headed off in search of a refill. I ended up having to circle all the way back to Mignano, then back to Caspoli where the actual location became obvious after I went up a back street. I was given the name of a local historian, but his gate was locked. He seems like a person I need to talk to so I’ll go back.
I headed back for one last set, and ended up talking (in Italian/English) to the owner of a property that I thought was another match. They knew of the films that had been made there and have invited J and I back for dinner. We’d better go prepared with photos of NZ and family, etc, because conversation will be difficult!
It was late when I got home. I slept well, with ear-plugs.
The next series of shots was around where 22 Bn had camped. I found the first one just where Google Earth had shown it. The next lot were in a village called Caspoli according to GE so I set off there but got onto a wild goose chase up through more brambles to some old buildings which were not the ones I wanted. Now my diesel was getting low so I headed off in search of a refill. I ended up having to circle all the way back to Mignano, then back to Caspoli where the actual location became obvious after I went up a back street. I was given the name of a local historian, but his gate was locked. He seems like a person I need to talk to so I’ll go back.
I headed back for one last set, and ended up talking (in Italian/English) to the owner of a property that I thought was another match. They knew of the films that had been made there and have invited J and I back for dinner. We’d better go prepared with photos of NZ and family, etc, because conversation will be difficult!
It was late when I got home. I slept well, with ear-plugs.
Margherita’s story
We got into a one-sided conversation with a lady who lived on that road. She went into great detail about her family during the war, reading from about seven pages of memoirs. What we could make out was quite interesting, but there was a lot that we couldn’t understand at all. I had the advantage of seeing the written pages, while J had to smile, frown and nod a lot. The story was that Margherita’s mother was from Naples but moved to Presanzano where she had some children (we couldn’t pick how many), possibly when her husband died. In Presanzano she lived next to a wonderful cantina where all sorts of nice bread and cake was sold before the war. There were 8 Germans billeted nearby in late 1943. She had made some bread and a German came and tried to take it away. She tried to pull it back from under his arm, but eventually one way or another he must have ended up with it. The Germans liked the white bread as a change from their black rye bread. After this she hid her bread under the eaves of the house and when more Germans came she told them that the first had taken all she had.
During the war 13 bombs fell on this part of the village, one of which landed outside the door while they were having breakfast. It blew the door down, but as far as we could tell no-one was injured at this point, although another person, probably another of Margherita’s sisters, was caught in a bombing/shelling raid and received a serious wound to the lower torso. She was taken to the hospital in Naples where she died after 4 (or 40) days. Perhaps they were the same event?
Margherita’s brother had volunteered for the Black Shirts in 1936 and served until 1940. Then in 1941 he was called up again and fought in Tunisia. Later he was transferred to Yugoslavia and his mother used to send him cards of Saint Margherita, because of his sister’s name. In August 1943 he deserted, but he and a friend were caught and sent to a German prison camp. As far as we could make out he was killed in a bombing raid while the friend escaped.
It was a horrible war for her mother: poor, hungry and afraid, and with two children killed. She lived into her 60s (we think).
Of course, with our Italian, half of this could just be misunderstandings! 8-)
During the war 13 bombs fell on this part of the village, one of which landed outside the door while they were having breakfast. It blew the door down, but as far as we could tell no-one was injured at this point, although another person, probably another of Margherita’s sisters, was caught in a bombing/shelling raid and received a serious wound to the lower torso. She was taken to the hospital in Naples where she died after 4 (or 40) days. Perhaps they were the same event?
Margherita’s brother had volunteered for the Black Shirts in 1936 and served until 1940. Then in 1941 he was called up again and fought in Tunisia. Later he was transferred to Yugoslavia and his mother used to send him cards of Saint Margherita, because of his sister’s name. In August 1943 he deserted, but he and a friend were caught and sent to a German prison camp. As far as we could make out he was killed in a bombing raid while the friend escaped.
It was a horrible war for her mother: poor, hungry and afraid, and with two children killed. She lived into her 60s (we think).
Of course, with our Italian, half of this could just be misunderstandings! 8-)
Mad dogs and Englishmen
Work started in earnest today as we headed off to find photographic matches for my own article. With Google Earth I had narrowed down the locations to within a few hundred metres for many of the shots so now it was a simple matter of getting the actual location. Simple? Yeah, right.
The first series was taken in a place called Presanzano, and in the photos there is a rocky, steep and barren hillside where this particular recreation took place. Now it is rocky and steep still, but far from barren. Sadly it is covered in mix of tussock, small trees and a particularly vicious kind of bramble that somehow actually wraps itself around legs and arms. We got away from home later than hoped and it was midday when we arrived, so I scrambled around that damned hillside for about an hour in the full sun – about 37 deg C. I found the exact rock where the original was taken so that was satisfying. Less so was the fact it was covered in bushes so the view was obscured. I broke as many of these down as I could to get a shot worth publishing, and I’m not going through all that again. By the time I got back to the car I was absolutely done in. Madness. (Pazzo!) Other shots in the series were taken in various places around the hillside. I took one off a lane at the bottom of the hill and gave up on the others.
We had lunch of sorts on Mignano, where the next series was taken. The street depicted in the originals was completely rebuilt after the war so it was difficult to find matches. There were also technical difficulties as I had relied on my laptop which had a stuffed battery, and the car charger was less practical than I hoped. I called into the Comune who were enthusiastic, but not very useful in regards to sourcing photos. They had copies of old photos but didn’t know where they came from or even who to ask. Still, we got a few booklets, and a nice banner with the town’s coat of arms. After a wander around the town it was time to head back. Next day I would come armed with printouts…
Damned dog was at it again. Tomorrow J will get some ear-plugs.
The first series was taken in a place called Presanzano, and in the photos there is a rocky, steep and barren hillside where this particular recreation took place. Now it is rocky and steep still, but far from barren. Sadly it is covered in mix of tussock, small trees and a particularly vicious kind of bramble that somehow actually wraps itself around legs and arms. We got away from home later than hoped and it was midday when we arrived, so I scrambled around that damned hillside for about an hour in the full sun – about 37 deg C. I found the exact rock where the original was taken so that was satisfying. Less so was the fact it was covered in bushes so the view was obscured. I broke as many of these down as I could to get a shot worth publishing, and I’m not going through all that again. By the time I got back to the car I was absolutely done in. Madness. (Pazzo!) Other shots in the series were taken in various places around the hillside. I took one off a lane at the bottom of the hill and gave up on the others.
We had lunch of sorts on Mignano, where the next series was taken. The street depicted in the originals was completely rebuilt after the war so it was difficult to find matches. There were also technical difficulties as I had relied on my laptop which had a stuffed battery, and the car charger was less practical than I hoped. I called into the Comune who were enthusiastic, but not very useful in regards to sourcing photos. They had copies of old photos but didn’t know where they came from or even who to ask. Still, we got a few booklets, and a nice banner with the town’s coat of arms. After a wander around the town it was time to head back. Next day I would come armed with printouts…
Damned dog was at it again. Tomorrow J will get some ear-plugs.
Tuesday 7 August 2007
A day at the beach
We headed off to the beach because, in case I haven’t mentioned it, it was caldo, caldo, caldo. The drive was through the mountains that the French took in May ’44 that split the German lines open. Rugged, steep and rocky. They really have been under-rated in the history books in my opinion. We passed through Ausonia, Formia and ended up on a beach just short of Sperlonga. Lovely it was too. We rented an umbrella, set up the deck chairs, and even ventured into the water once. Superb. I finished off a book by Tom Aitken, a Kiwi engineer, but about the events in a Cassino family’s life in 1943/44. It was an interestingly different perspective from my normal reading on Cassino. There was no biography on Aitkin so I don't know how much is fiction, and how much based on true stories.
After the beach we visited Tiberius' Villa just up the road. It is quite a large complex and includes fish pools in a cave, complete with large statues originally. Then we wound our way up the cliff side, through burnt patches back to Formia, and on to Cassino. 
The fire was still burning strongly, and in fact when we went to the theatre later that night there were two of them going. We saw Oedipus the Greek tragedy, and understood only one word in 20. I never quite figured out what was going on, as there seemed to be no-one killing anyone's father or coveting one's mother. We'll have to read the bloody thing now. It was an experience though, as it was in the old Roman Teatro, so we sat on the same rock hard seats that callused Roman bums 2000 odd years ago. Fortunately there were cushions provided, probably in both eras. I have to match some photos just below the theatre in a pizza restaurant that was used as an anti-tank pill-box, so it was handy to do a recce.
Via Casalini
From Viterbo it was a quick zip down past Rome on the Autostrada. I drove us through the Autopass lane so didn’t get an ‘on’ ticket. This was a problem. When we got off I had to go and get the 48 Euro fine voided… (After being moved on by the Polizei for parking in the wrong place. That’s a bloody laugh.)That sorted, we headed south down Via Casalini, where the Romans had marched 2000 years ago, and the Germans 64 years ago. Thus we went in reverse direction down one of the routes up which the allies had advanced in ’44. I was quite excited but I'm sure J was less so. Still, when the Abbey hove into view it was quite an impressive sight for both of us.
We went to see the estate agent but of course it was siesta so we had to wait for 3 hours. Never mind, we sampled the coffee (or J did) and the gelati. Both good. Then we went on an orientation drive so J could get the hang of the city. We walked up to the apartment as well and it looked great from the outside. We even had our names on the buzzer already. It is very central (3 buildings from the Information Centre) and to top it off, it is just behind and above the Hotel des Roses which anyone familiar with the battle may know. It would seem that a Kiwi attack must have been launched pretty much from our backyard. Anyway, once the agent opened up and it was all paid for we moved in. First impressions were very good - it's twice the size of our apartment in Bristol, at half the price. If only we could work here...
Pasta for tea (what else) and then we watched a fire across the valley on the hills above San Michele. Sadly we discovered that all was not perfect in our paradise, as the owner's dog barked off and on through the night. (By the way it turns out the real estate agent is the owner.) Did I mention it is hot, hot, hot?Bristol to Pisa and on to Viterbo
See J's page for details but we have arrived. It is hot, hot, hot so thank god for air-con in the car. We have a little FIAT Punto to zip around in and we did just that from Pisa to San Vincenzo where we stopped for lunch. Our Italian being what it is neither of us got what we thought we were having. The beach looked inviting, in a European kind of way - deckchairs and umbrellas covering every square inch. It took a while for J to get the hang of Italian driving, perhaps because they have no rules, only guidelines it would appear. Overtaking on blind 
corners, parking in the middle of the street, ignoring speed limits - normal.
corners, parking in the middle of the street, ignoring speed limits - normal. We ended up in Bagnaia, just outside Viterbo, north of Rome. It was a lovely B&B, just a little past its prime and on its way down we think. Viterbo is a nice medieval town and we had a wander for an hour or so. Enough time to catch a wedding, but we missed the 
Russian bride and Italian groom with the 30 year gap whose bans had been proclaimed. Our dinner was another struggle with Italian, or would have been if we hadn't just ordered pizza. They were huge!
Russian bride and Italian groom with the 30 year gap whose bans had been proclaimed. Our dinner was another struggle with Italian, or would have been if we hadn't just ordered pizza. They were huge!
Wednesday 1 August 2007
Walkies
A walk in the sunshine and lunch over the Suspension Bridge in Clifton. Then home again and J made me pack even though we have two days to go, and dinner consisted of whatever we had to finish off in the cupboards or fridge.Later it was off to the Simpsons' Movie. Very funny.
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