Se il mondo è la vostra casa, prendetevene cura e vi darà il vostro pane
(If the world is your home, take care of it and it will give you your bread)
- Gino Roncaglia (Italian philosopher, b. 1960)
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Now I know what the "unidentifiable crop" I have been seeing in the fields is: sweet potatoes. The soil around Anguillara Veneta is perfect for them, and the majority of Italy's sweet potatoes are grown here. But this American vegetable does not traditionally figure in the Italian diet, and so growers have trouble selling their produce here, or elsewhere in Europe. "The producers' association should be doing more to educate people about the potential of sweet potatoes," pointed out Oscar, Giovanna's husband and the other half of the Pane e Bellezza farm and agri-campground management, when I met him outside the wash-house at 7 am and asked what he would be harvesting today. Oscar and Giovanna farm about 30 hectares of land, in addition to running the campground with its associated playground and "educational farm" for children, featuring plenty of farm animals - donkeys, goats, cows, rabbits, chicken and geese - and raising four children. Three of their children are now teenagers, and already contribute to the running of the farm, while the smallest just began his first year of school on Monday. The name Pane e Bellezza is inspired by today's quote, but adds the idea that if you take care of the land, it will give you not only bread, but beauty as well!
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| Oscar with his oldest son Giacomo (17) heading out to harvest sweet potatoes |
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| Pane e Bellezza campground in the morning |
Taking my leave of this wonderful spot, I returned to the embankment of the Gorzone canal and followed it all the way into Anguillara Veneta, where I was lucky to arrive during a village festival that is only held once every five years!
A bit of history: Anguillara Veneta and the Via Romea Germanica
Anguillara owes its name to the eel (anguilla) fishery, and the presence of fixed eel-catching equipment on the Adige River is in fact documented since 1171. The town has always been a transit point on the Via Romea Germanica, as it was until modern times the only place where it was possible to cross the river Adige; the crossing was by ferry, until today's wrought iron bridge was built in 1922.
"Anguillara is, in fact, among the places indicated by the Abbot Albert along the route to return, in 1236, from Rome to his hometown of Stade, in northern Germany: a journey of over two thousand two hundred kilometres that today constitutes the route of the Via Romea Germanica.
It is described in the Annales Stadenses compiled by Albert himself between 1240 and 1256, essentially a guide for pilgrims from northern Europe who wanted to reach Rome. According to the Abbot Albert's instructions, after completing the Apennine section and crossing the valleys between Ravenna and Ferrara, the pilgrims proceeded from Ferrara to Rovigo and from there to Padua, and then toward the northern regions, passing through Anguillara, where the crossing over the Adige was located. From this point, in fact, after crossing the river, one could take the ancient Gorzone embankment, which at the time, flanking the marshes, allowed pilgrims to continue to Padua via Conselve or Monselice.
After those provided by Abbot Albert, other authors report similar instructions for the traveller interested in travelling along the same route."
- (from the information panel in the photograph above)
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| The Oratorio del Capitello |
The Pietà of Anguillara Veneta
The Pietà, or Madonna Addolorata (Our Lady of Sorrows), of the Oratorio del Capitello in Anguillara Veneta is a Vesperbild of the Salzburg school, datable to around 1420. Characteristic is the position of the Mother supporting her dead Son on her lap, following the Germanic scheme of the Schöne Vesperbilder (Beautiful Pietàs). It is made of Gußstein, a kind of artificial stone that is easy to model, composed of microcrystalline gypsum and aggregates. It may have belonged to the original church of Anguillara, destroyed by floods of the Adige. According to tradition, however, it miraculously appeared to a local woman in the area where it is still preserved today. It is now kept inside this small church, notable for its unusual plan, built in 1865 to the design of one Federico Tietz of Trieste as an ex-voto for deliverance from the cholera epidemic.
Until the mid-15th century the church was annexed to a hospice for pilgrims, and it is not unlikely that the arrival of this Vesperbild in Anguillara is connected with that institution, frequented by travelers coming from beyond the Alps along the route of the Via Romea Germanica.
The history of the cholera epidemic and its relationship to the sculpture was the subject of the priest's sermon, which was actually more of a history lesson. Attending mass always offers the traveller - and especially the pilgrim - a key to connecting with the local community, and in fact before the service was even finished the lady sharing my pew was asking me about my pilgrimage. Immediately after the final blessing and adoration of the Eucharist (it being a Thursday), another curious parishioner came over to join her. As soon as I had answered their questions, I went off toward the sacristy in search of the retreating priests (there were three of them), to ask for a stamp on my pilgrim credential. The priests put me in the hands of a deacon of the church, who suggested I view the exhibition next door, all about the Pietà sculpture - and its connection with the Via Romea Germanica.
Presiding over the exhibition was Luigi Polo, professor of physics, amateur historian and director on the Board of the Italian association of the Via Romea Germanica. Luigi explained that there are several depictions of the Virgin holding the body of Christ in this particular position in various locations along the Via Romea Germanica. He also explained to me the reason for the wiggle in the Way at this point: the area between Monselice and Rovigo was an impassable swamp, and the only possible crossing over the river Adige was at Anguillara.
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| With Luigi Polo |
Saying goodbye to Luigi and the good people of Anguillara, I proceeded on my way, passing through the weekly Thursday morning market in the square in front of the parish church.
I then crossed the bridge over the Adige and turned to follow the southern bank of the river, walking southwest along the embankment as far as Boara Polesine.
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| The Adige |
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| The Adige |
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| Little free library on the embankment path |
I left the Adige just after Boara Polesine and entered Rovigo on a cycling path beside a small canal, passing by the city's trade fair centre and its railway station. A tree-lined avenue took me into the city centre.
My first stop was the Seminario Vescovile, which provides pilgrims with a private room with en-suite bathroom, asking only for a donation in return.
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| The view from my window |
I found Don Luca, the priest I had been in touch with by email, outside the gate so I didn't even have to ring the bell to get in! After showing me to my room and entrusting me with a set of the four keys required to get back into the seminary complex, my building and my room (neither of us was sure what the fourth key was for), Don Luca showed me a big book of historical maps of Rovigo over the centuries. He used a map dated 1775 to point out the locations of the city' chief attractions.
The chief difference between today's city and the 1775 version shown in the map is that, as Don Luca noted, the river Adigetto, a smaller branch of the Adige, no longer runs through the city. It has been deviated to run around the outside of the town, allowing the construction of Rovigo's main shopping street, the Corso del Popolo, where the river used to be. Such a pity - it's not a particularly attractive street, either! 😅
Rovigo does, however, have some beautiful piazzas, and I wandered from one to the other once I could summon up the energy to go out again.
This last piazza is home to the church known as the Rotonda, Rovigo's chief attraction. But it closes early, at six, and I got there too late to see the interior, with its 17th-century frescoes.
Instead, I went to the cathedral, not particularly beautiful with its unfinished brick façade, and ventured into the sacristy to ask for a stamp on my pilgrim credential. The priests were in the process of donning ceremonial robes over their shorts and t-shirts (did I mention how hot it's been today?), but, having obtained my stamp, I beat a hasty retreat before they could begin saying mass. One mass per day is plenty for me, and I was feeling both tired and hungry; I picked up some food on the way back to the seminary and ate it in my room, then called it a day. 🛌
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