Via Romea Germanica Day 76: Carmignano di Brenta - Piazzola sul Brenta

Such pilgrims are rare in these days. They were stared at by everybody and treated with scant respect, for, in earlier times, many rascals roamed the countryside in this disguise. When I heard that they were Germans and could not speak any other language, I went aft to talk to them… Their main goal had been the Shrine of the Three Magi in Cologne; then they had wandered across Germany and were now on their way to Rome. After that they planned to return to northern Italy; then one would wander back home, while the other made a further pilgrimage to Santiago de Compostela.

Their habit was the conventional one… the wide cape, the round hat, the scallop shell, that most primitive of drinking vessels, everything had its meaning and immediate use. Their passports were in a tin box. The most curious of their belongings were the small portfolios of red Morocco in which they carried the small articles they needed for daily necessities. They had taken them out because they had found something in their clothes that needed mending.

- Goethe, Italian Journey (Written while sailing down the Brenta by boat, on 28 September 1786)

I walked two and a half kilometres along the back streets of Carmignano to get back onto the Via Romea Germanica walking route along the Brenta river, rejoining it by the gravel pit at Agugiaro. I then followed the Brenta walking/cycling route all the way to Piazzola, mostly on a shady path through the trees, though with occasional excursions into the open sunshine of the wheat and corn fields. 

Following a cycling route like this one is easy, it's pretty much impossible to take a wrong turn or get lost, and there are only two concerns: 1. stay in the shade, and 2. walk on soft surfaces wherever possible. This means preferring the grassy edge over the gravel or asphalt cycling lane. Other than that, there's not much to worry about, except avoiding being hit by a bicycle; never cross a cycling path without looking over your shoulder first!

The back streets of Carmignano 

The gravel pit

The Brenta

Cornfield

Polenta in the making

Harvest time already!

After 18 kilometres of this easy but fairly monotonous walking I arrived in Piazzola sul Brenta: an unusual town, in that the town centre revolves entirely around Villa Contarini, the buildings constructed to serve it and the industries set up by its former owner in the late nineteenth century.

Piazzola sul Brenta and Villa Contarini 

In 1413 Maria da Carrara, who had inherited all her family's possessions in Piazzola, married Venetian nobleman Nicolò Contarini, establishing the Contarini family's dominion over the area. In 1546 the Contarini family commissioned the building of a great villa, possibly designed by Andrea Palladio in its original core, much expanded and reworked over the centuries that followed. 

The central core of the building resembles the Gothic villas facing onto the canals of Venice, looking oddly out of place here in the grassy plains! In the late seventeenth century Marco Contarini added the two large loggia wings on either side of the main building. In front of the villa is a vast piazza, now used for concerts and events, with a semi-circular loggia on one side, now containing shops and cafés; the planned matching loggia on the other side was never built. The villa hosted grandiose Baroque entertainments and theatrical performances, even including re-enactments of naval battles in the fishponds of its vast park. 

One of the loggias

The ballroom

The second family to shape the destiny and form of Piazzola was the Camerini family, who purchased the abandoned and ruined villa in the late nineteenth century and restored it to its former splendour. Entrepreneur Paolo Camerini reformed agricultural practices, established new industries in the town, and commissioned the construction of housing for the workers in his factories. By 1920 Piazzola boasted six hydroelectric power plants, a sulphuric acid factory, a chemical fertiliser plant, a cement factory, a sawmill, two brick kilns, two spinning mills, a number of food processing plants and a jute factory. All this development shaped the look of the town as it appears today, with its long rows of two-storey homes and the abandoned jute factory, now considered an industrial heritage site, its chimney stack still towering over the town. 

This unusual layout makes Piazzola a rather weird and disorienting place to walk around, especially when you are tired, hot and hungry from walking twenty kilometres in a heat wave. I stopped at the first open restaurant - just around the corner from the villa, in fact it's called Le Scuderie because it's located in what used to be the stables of the villa - and ordered a complete all-seafood menu for only sixteen euros. I ordered a glass of Bianco di Custoza and as it wasn't quite cold enough I made it into a Weinschorle by adding fizzy mineral water and ice, falling back into habits picked up in Germany 😅.

After this formidable meal I staggered out of the restaurant and into the villa, where I learned that I would have to wait until four in the afternoon if I wanted to do the tour. So I settled for relaxing in the shady garden and visiting the few rooms on the ground floor that can be seen without joining in the guided tour. 

Relaxing in the grounds of the villa

I then walked the remaining two kilometres to Agriturismo Honey Farm, where they presumably keep bees as well as renting clean and affordable rooms. They also run a restaurant, but only on weekends, which is why I had my main meal of the day at lunchtime; I probably won't be needing any dinner, though I bought some fruit and yogurt from the local supermarket in case I want a snack. The owner Chiara let me in and told me I am the only guest this evening, so once again I have the run of the house! Breakfast is self-service, so I can be up, out and on the road as early as I like, to beat the heat on my final day walking into Padova!

Carmignano di Brenta - Piazzola sul Brenta 21 km

Via Romea Germanica Day 75: Bassano del Grappa - Carmignano di Brenta

Montagne addio,
addio vallate,
io parto, addio,
non so se tornero’,
qui lascio il cuor,
qui lascio la mia vita,
montagne addio,
non vi scordero’.

(Farewell mountains,

Farewell valleys!

I'm leaving now, farewell!

I don't know if I'll be back

Here I leave my heart,

I leave my life

Goodbye mountains - 

I won't forget you!)

- Giancarlo Bregani, Montagne addio (1965), sung by Coro GAM choir in Carmignano di Brenta this evening 

It has taken me three weeks to walk through the Alps, from the northern foothills around Oberammergau to the southern foothills opening onto the flatlands of the Po Valley at Bassano del Grappa, but today, I finally said goodbye to the mountains.

Once out of the suburbs of Bassano del Grappa, the Via Romea Germanica followed the river all day. Most of the time it ran along the top of a grassy embankment, as in the photo above; at other times it was among the trees, shaded from the sun; in some spots the trail left the river and passed along roads in residential and semi-industrial areas, deserted on a Sunday morning. The only people around were cyclists and dog walkers. After eleven kilometres, I stopped in a picnic area for a second breakfast; if I had walked just a few hundred metres farther, I could have had it in the only open café I encountered on today's walk. The café is right by the start of a very long bridge, crossing the river Brenta at a spot where it is particularly wide, known as the Basse del Brenta. 

The Basse del Brenta 

The natural area of ​​the Basse del Brenta represents the last remnant, saved from the advance of concrete roads and industrial areas, of a unique environmental system located in a lower position than the rest of the land, in an area that was originally part of the flood plain of the river. In this stretch, the Brenta has always reached its maximum width (about 1 km), making this  the easiest fording point since ancient times. For this reason, during the era of the barbarian invasions, it became a battlefield in the 899 AD clash between the army of future Holy Roman Emperor Berengario I and the semi-nomadic Hungarian people.

The riverbed was later partly converted into cultivable fields, which periodically flooded: this threat was averted by the construction, in the 1920s and 30s, of a new embankment aimed at definitively removing the lands of the Basse from the alluvial cycles of the Brenta. 

These lands are now of extraordinary ecological-naturalistic value, due to the widespread presence of meadows alternating with hedges and irrigation ditches: a typical environment that has now disappeared from the Veneto plain. In the past this type of territory allowed the population to provide fodder for animals and wood for the winter, while preserving a high degree of biodiversity. This naturalistic and cultural heritage is of special value today, given its uniqueness in an increasingly degraded territory. 

Walking through this area was cool and shady, with a breeze blowing and the sound of water trickling in the river and the various streams and channels into which it is divided here; but after the bridge, my route unfortunately continued along a narrow paved road atop the embankment, in full sunshine. 

There are few options for food or accommodation along the route, and so I left the Via Romea route at Camazzole, where it would have headed back to the river and to a lake, and followed the cycling lane beside the main road to my hotel in Carmignano. The cycling lane was on the sunny side of the street - not that there was much shade on the other side, either, at midday! The last few kilometres in the sun seemed interminable, but at last I found myself in the centre of Carmignano and flopped down in a café for a beer. I had hoped to get a sandwich as well, but the café turned out to sell only sweets, so I asked for some crisps instead. I then moved on to the gelateria next door to complete my Sunday lunch with the largest ice cream on the menu, complete with fresh fruit and whipped cream. 

Hotel Zenit has a restaurant, but it is closed on Sundays. My dinner choices appeared to be either kebab or take-out pizza. But as I rounded the corner I came across a vast expanse of empty wooden tables, punctuated here and there by boarded-up food kiosks. I asked a man watering the flowers if there was an event coming up in the evening. "Choir concert," he replied. "But there's food, too?" I enquired hopefully. "They open at seven o'clock," the man replied. "See you at seven then!" I responded as I went on my way, much cheered, to figure out the automatic check-in mechanism at my hotel.

I spent the rest of the afternoon showering, napping and researching accommodations for the last two stages of the Via Romea Germanica - for the time being. I will stop walking in Padova, spend an extra day seeing the city, and then head home for the summer, with plans to resume my walk when cooler weather returns in the autumn.

Carmignano sul Brenta

Upon venturing out of my insulated, isolated and air-conditioned hotel room, I found myself in the midst of the festivities. In the square between my hotel and the town hall, restaurants from all around the area set up kiosks which are open every night in summer (except Mondays), serving a great variety of food. An excellent idea: it means more business for the restaurants, and gives local people of all ages and backgrounds a chance to eat outdoors while enjoying the cool evening air, as well as a place to hang out and meet their friends. In the middle of the square, the Pro Loco (association for the promotion of tourism) has its own bar, where a glass of various different wines from a local winemaker can be had for two euros. And in a proper wineglass, too! I purchased a glass of Manzoni bianco to drink while waiting for my turn to order at the kiosk selling local specialties, which had the longest line-up of all. Snapping photos to pass the time while waiting, I got talking to three boys behind me, who wanted me to take their photo too 😄. They asked where I was from and what I was doing here, surprised that someone from Genova (I didn't even mention Canada) should end up in Carmignano, and even more surprised when I told them I walked here from Germany 😄. That led to a conversation with the man in front of me in the line, who had walked a small section of the Via Francigena in Tuscany.... and so the time passed quickly until I reached the front of the line and ordered my plate of Baccalà alla vicentina. In exchange for my money I was given an electronic device which would begin beeping urgently when my dish was ready, so I could go and pick it up at the counter. Everyone had one, so there was a constant beeping all over the square 😅 

I finished eating just in time to move over to the seats in front of the town hall, where the choir concert was about to begin. Coro GAM "Amici della montagna" has been singing traditional Alpine folk songs in Carmignano since 1959 (and judging by the average age of the members, they might have first joined up at that time 😄). 

So although we are definitely now in the plains, the mountains are still in sight, and still in people's hearts!

Baccalà alla vicentina 

Coro GAM

Hotel Zenit

My air-conditioned oasis

Bassano del Grappa - Carmignano sul Brenta 18.5 km

Via Romea Germanica Day 74: Cismon del Grappa - Bassano del Grappa

Monte Grappa tu sei la mia Patria,
sei la stella che addita il cammino,
sei la gloria, il volere, il destino,
che all'Italia ci fa ritornar!

(Monte Grappa, you are my homeland

You are the star that shows us the way,

You are the glory, the will and the destiny

That will bring us back to Italy!)

- General Emilio de Bono, Canzone del Grappa, August 1918

The Grappa in all these place names is not the alcoholic kind, though that is also made here; the reference is to Mount Grappa, towering above Cismon, dominating the valley from a height of 1776 metres. 

After the defeat of the Italian forces at Caporetto, Mount Grappa became the most important point of Italy's defences against Austria for the remainder of the First World War. The Austrians repeatedly attempted to conquer the peak in order to invade the Venetian plain between November 11, 1917 and October 24, 1918, and an estimated 40,000 soldiers on both sides perished on the mountain, and were buried in makeshift temporary cemeteries. In 1928 the majority of their graves were consolidated in the Monte Grappa Military Memorial, which contains the remains of 23,000 Italian and Austro-Hungarian soldiers. The remains of more soldiers are kept at the Temple and Ossuary in Bassano del Grappa, which I visited on the way to my hostel, and where I saw the historic photographs below.

The Ossuary damaged during World War II 

But I'm getting ahead of myself in telling the story of my day! A day that started earlier than any other so far: the birds singing outside the open window of the parish centre in Cismon del Grappa woke me up before five, and so I rolled up my sleeping mat (something I had been dying to do ever since seeing Wim Wenders' Perfect Days 😅) and made instant coffee in the parish kitchen, heating water in a frying pan because that was all I could find. By five-thirty I was out the door and on my way. 

I crossed the wooden suspension bridge over the Brenta river and walked southwards along a quiet road connecting the villages on the right bank of the river, the south-facing and therefore more developed side. At five-thirty there was no-one on the road; by six-thirty the first cyclists were out and about, enjoying the cool morning air like me. Actually the weather was perfect all day: cloudy in the morning, clearing by noon but with a cool breeze and plenty of shade along the way.

The suspension bridge 

House set right up against the rock

In Valstagna I stopped in at the church, and found a hat that someone had left on a pew. I adopted it. In Valbrenta I stopped for a break on a bench by the reservoir behind a dam and ate my third breakfast of the day (the first was instant coffee, fruit and a croissant in the hostel at five, the second espresso and a bun in a café at seven-thirty, the third a cheese sandwich on the bench by the lake around ten). It was good that I fortified myself in this way because the next section involved walking along a busy road with no sidewalk for a kilometre or so! But soon the route turned off to follow a cycling path and then a trail along the side of the river. In Campese, only five kilometres or so before Bassano, I saw a sign saying simply "Monastero", pointing in the direction of a church with a separate bell tower in Venetian style, and I turned up the lane and found one of the most welcoming places I have yet encountered on the Way. 

Santa Croce is a former Benedictine monastery founded by a former abbott of Cluny in 1124, abandoned in the 18th century and now operated by an association of local volunteers. The association, Il Sicomoro ODV, continues to run it in the spirit of the Benedictine rule, under the motto Ora et labora et lege, et noli contristarti in laetitia pacis: Pray, work and study, and let nothing sadden you in the joy of peace. The monastery is a place to take a break, to pray or simply sit in silence in the Stanza del Silenzio, to eat a meal in company, to work with your hands, in the garden or the monastery itself. People of all kinds are welcome, and at present there is a group of 16 young people from all over the world attending a work camp. You can read more about the association and its activities here.

I could have stayed at the monastery as a pilgrim, though I wasn't aware of it as it does not appear in the list of recommended accommodations. Silvia, the volunteer in charge of hospitality, offered me a glass of juice and sat down to tell me about the history of the monastery and the association's work. She invited me to stay for lunch, but it was not yet noon and the group would not be eating until one-thirty, so I told her I would rest in the Silent Room for a while and then go on my way. While I was in there a busload of (non-walking) pilgrims arrived, accompanied by a couple of priests; they took a look around the monastery and then filed into the church for Mass. I stayed for the first few minutes and then went on my way, the Kyrie echoing in my mind, much refreshed by the pause in my walk. 

International youth group working in the garden

Volunteers preparing lunch for the youth group

La Stanza del Silenzio 

The remaining five kilometres into Bassano were all in the shade, on a pretty trail through the trees beside the river, emerging into the city close to the famous covered bridge designed by Palladio. I stopped for lunch at a restaurant by the bridge, and then continued through the centre to the beautiful youth hostel, located in another former monastery on the south side of the town. Here I showered, washed my clothes (and my new hat), hung everything up to dry, and went out to explore the city centre. 

"Sul ponte di Bassano
noi ci darem la mano,
noi ci darem la mano
ed un bacin d'amor"

Cismon del Grappa - Bassano del Grappa 26 km