4 hours and 22 minutes in Cassino with Sergeant E.C. Nichol

My time in Cassino did not go precisely as planned. I wanted to arrive from Rome early in the afternoon and have a chance to freshen up and relax at my hotel before walking to the Cassino War Cemetery to pay my respects to my other great-uncle lost in the Second World War, Sergeant Everett Clinton Nichol. Then I was going to wander into town and have a nice dinner before retiring to my private hotel room for a relaxing, early night.

The first problem started when the LP turned out to be uncharacteristically silent on the entire subject of Cassino, despite the fact that there's a well known monastery at Monte Cassino right up the hill from the town. In fact, I was so surprised that there wasn’t even a listing for the city that I think I went back and checked the index three or four times before finally admitting to myself that the beloved LP had failed me.

The monastery at the top of the hill, which I did not climb (grape vines in the foreground).

So I was on my own. Undaunted, I managed to locate the cemetery on Google maps and found some information that seemed to indicate it was only about 2km from the train station. Then I hit Google again to find a hotel and ended up making a reservation at Hotel Diana (which I accomplished entirely in infant-level Italian, thank you very much.) So I arrived in Cassino on the 12:51 train from Roma Termini and set off in the direction of the hotel. I was pleased when I came upon this sign, because it all seemed to tally with my memory of the Google map.

All according to plan

And that’s when things started to go awry. It turns out that the scale of the Google map in my head was perhaps more ambitious that I realized. And the Aeronaut was a might weighty, and the sun was a touch warm, and the sidewalk was ever-so-slightly non-existent. And on I trudged, with no map, and almost no language skills, and an increasing level of frustration. I stopped several times to ask for directions and each time I was directed further and further down the road and kept hearing phrases like “autostrada” and “lontano”. It seems that Cassino has a Via Raccordo Ausonia and a Via Prov.le Ausonia and a Via Ausonia Nuova. Naturally it turned out that the hotel was on the one farthest from the station down a busy highway. Finally I gave up. I’m sorry Hotel Diana, but if you had been in the same time zone as the rest of Cassino, I would have been happy to darken your door. Then I had another trudge through the area around the station and could not find one single hotel, which is extremely bizarre. Cassino must be the only hotel in Western Europe with no hotels near the station.

So I sat down and had a calzone and a beer and regrouped. I checked the departures list at the station and determined that trains to Naples were frequent that afternoon and evening. And I phoned the hostel in Naples and moved my reservation up a night. And then I hoisted the Aeronaut once again and headed off for the cemetery, which turned out to be easy to find and actually was about 2km from the station, as advertised.

The entrance to the cemetery

In some ways it was very much like the Beny-sur-Mer cemetery in France. It was quiet and tidy and seemed to be well-tended. And there were rows and rows and rows of gravestones from all over the commonwealth. Unlike Beny-sur-Mer, though, it’s kind of smack in the middle of the city, or at least surrounded by busy roads and some businesses and some semi-rural residential stuff.

The livestock next door to the cemetery

I didn’t have as much documentation to help me find the grave I was looking for as I did in France, but the Canadian Virtual War Memorial website has an excellent search function that made it really easy to determine exactly where I needed to look. Section 5, Row B, Grave 21.

And due to the foresight of my personal assistant (Winnipeg Division), I had another Canadian flag patch to leave at the grave site. Thanks Karen. I really feel it was important to leave something tangible behind.

Unlike Beny-sur-Mer, there was no cemetery register available and no book of remembrance to sign. The website says that frequent vandalism means these are only available when the gardener is present, and those hours apparently didn’t mesh with my schedule. I think it’s disgusting that something as simple and important as a register of war dead can’t be kept out for fear or it being stolen or defaced. I mean, really.

I wandered around and took some more pictures, and enjoyed the feeling of not having a 45 pound pack on my back. And I sat near the grave and tried to think about what it must have been like to be a 35-year old Saskatchewan farm boy-turned Royal Canadian Engineer landing in Italy in 1944. In fact, Sergeant Nichol enlisted in 1939 and was shipped overseas within ten months. He served in England, Sicily and mainland Italy before he was killed in action on May 23, 1944. And now you know almost as much about him as I do, which is sad; he should have been part of my life. It wasn't as emotional as my trip to Beny-sur-Mer, but maybe that's because it wasn't all new.

At least the views from the cemetery are really lovely, with Monte Cassino in the background, and other mountains surrounding.

Also unlike the grave at Beny-sur-Mer, which was for an uncle on my grandmother’s side of the family, this was my father’s father’s brother. Consequently, that was my name on the gravestone. It was striking. I actually pulled out the copy of my passport I carry around and held it up to the stone and looked at the names. Nichol… Nichol. It felt a bit weird, but it also made me proud and really glad I’d come. It was like I could feel how we were connected.

And then I shouldered my pack again and bid farewell to Uncle Everett and turned my face towards the station and the 17:13 train to Naples. I feel badly that the trip turned out to be a more of pitstop than a pilgrimage, but I’m still glad I went. I hope it’s not important how long I was there, but that I was there at all. That someone was there.

Once again, there’s really nothing I can say to sum up except thank you. Thank you Sergeant Everett C. Nichol. You make me proud to share your name.

Rest in peace.

Sergeant Everett Clinton Nichol

Pick of Pics - The Vatican

St. Peter's Basilica

Roma

Here’s the thing about Rome: it’s been here for a really long time. Romulus settled down around 753 BC, and the Roman Republic was founded in 509 BC. And it’s not like the ancient Romans were particularly concerned about preserving their own history. Like us in modern society, they tore things down and re-built over old things and used the stones from one temple to build a new temple and so on. People have been building and tearing down and rebuilding and abandoning and reclaiming and thoroughly inhabiting the place for about 2700 years. This means that just about everywhere you turn in Rome is a mix of modern and ancient, which can be incongruous and startling and fantastic. What can I say? Rome is a city of contrasts.

For instance, the Colosseum looks like the ancient Romans built it in the middle of a roundabout. And the Area Sacrea di Largo Argentina is, as the LP says, “more of a traffic hub than an historic monument.” Discovered in 1926, it’s sunk about 20’ lower than the current street level and covers a city block. The site contains the remains of four Roman temples and a paved square and is apparently the spot where Julius Caesar was murdered in 44 BC - “Et tu Brute” and the Ides of March and all that. It also includes an impressive collection of feral cats, and convenient bus and tram connections to the rest of the city. There’s stuff like that all over. I walked a lot, and I kept stumbling on chunks of marble columns tucked away in vacant lots.

See what I mean? Ruins, buses, buildings...

It's a a bit like that at the Forum. My visit to there was… confusing. It’s a huge site – it must be acres and acres of ruins, incongruously surrounded by a bustling, modern city. I got the audioguide but (as I Tweeted) it was less-than-impressive*. The commentary was very good, but it was virtually impossible to tell which particular heap of ruined what-not the friendly voice was talking about (and let’s remember that I’m not some wet-behind-the-ears audioguide neophyte - I’ve practically got an advanced degree in audioguidery at this point). Every other audioguide I’ve used to this point has worked the same way: you walk up to whatever site you’re interested in, punch in the number that’s prominently displayed on nearby signage, and listen to what the nice voice has to say. At the Forum you do this:

• Consult tiny 6” x 6” map that encompasses the entire site and attempt to orient yourself.
• Locate a number on the map and position yourself in approximately the same area.
• Punch in the number and listen attentively, trying desperately to determine if the heap of red brick on the left is the Basilica Fulvia-Aemilia, or perhaps the Temple of Castor and Pollux. Or maybe the Castor and Pollux thing is those 3 broken columns on the left. And wait a minute, did he say “Arch of Septimus Severus” or “Temple of Saturn”?
• Repeat 30 times, until you’re ready to insert your audioguide device into any available orifice of the guy who designed the map, or, most especially, whatever Hell-bent committee decided that they wouldn’t bother to put up a few discreet signs to give the tens of thousands of tourists who visit the site a fighting chance of knowing what they’re looking at. As I said in my Tweet – whoever designed that system should suffer death by a thousand paper cuts and then be forced to use his own guide to find his way to the afterlife. (“Ok, if that’s the River Styx then the boatman should be just over here… oh, no wait a minute. I must have this map upside down…”)

Here’s the map that came with the audioguide.

And here’s a good overview of what the site looks like. You can see why I was a bit confused.

So the Forum was frustrating. The Colosseum, on the other hand, was quite excellent. I took a guided tour there, and that was a much better choice. It’s much more contained, so it’s not as confusing. And come on, who wouldn’t be impressed with a sight like this?

The Colosseum was great, as was my guide who was full of useful tidbits of information, like the fact that the floor contained sixty trap doors with counter-weighted elevators operated on pulleys by slaves. This meant that 60 gladiators could appear through the floor all at once. Very impressive.

The remains of the understructure of the arena floor.

Also, there were originally no barriers between the wild animals fighting in the arena and the prominent citizens in the best seats close by. Apparently one or two senators became tiger chow before they realized they should put up nets. Hee hee.

I saw lots of other “biggie” sights too. For instance, the Trevi Fountain. And here's something weird: it turns out that I’d apparently never seen any image of the Trevi Fountain in my life before I encountered the real thing on Sunday afternoon. Honestly, when I came upon it after wandering through the maze of streets all I could think was, “Really? This is it? This is the Trevi Fountain? Well, I’ll be.” It wasn’t that it’s not lovely; in fact I lied it very much. It’s just that it was completely unexpected. Not at all the many-tiered circular wedding cake-like affair I had in my head. And on that afternoon it was positively heaving with people.

Heaving, I said. (Sometimes I wonder how many other people's pictures I've appeared in by this point...)

It turns out that the best time to see the Trevi is at 12:30 am, on a long walk back to the hostel, after having a few friendly drinks with Roman hashers. At least that was my experience. Your mileage may vary.

Much better

It’s also true what they say about the traffic in Rome. It’s a bit crazy, and getting to the other side of the street is kind of a cross between a game of Frogger and an extreme sport. There are crosswalks marked on the roads, but cars seem to obey them only when a critical mass of pedestrians develops and spontaneously surges across the the road, forcing the traffic to stop. In fact, I realized it was time for me to leave Rome when I found myself leading the charge across an intersection, right into oncoming traffic. Obviously I survived, but think it might be best to hit the road, figuratively speaking, before I ended up doing so literally.

Of course I also saw the Pantheon, which, like the Trevi Fountain, was not what I as expecting. I thought it would be smaller and sort of more run down. In fact, it’s huge and really impressive. Actually anything Roman that was subsequently taken over by the church is generally preserved much better than the rest of the Roman stuff. (The most intact sites at the Forum were also buildings that had been turned into churches.)

The dome of the Pantheon, my favourite part (of course) Legend says that they built it supported by an enormous heap of earth salted with gold coins. Then when the dome was complete they invited the citizens of Rome to come and cart away the dirt and keep whatever they found in it. Clever Romans.

I could go on and on. I haven’t even mentioned the Vatican at all, and that's a whole other country. And there was the Piazza Navona (And accompanying navigational nightmare on the evening of the drinks with hashers. Let’s just say that approaching the Piazza Navona from the east looks and feels remarkably similar to approaching the Piazza Navona from the west, and leave it at that.) And there were free aperitivi at the Campo de’ Fiori, and there was that stumbled-upon intersection where the buildings on each of the 4 corners were adorned with fountains, and there was running in the park at the Villa Borghese and lots and lots and lots of walking. And of course there was more gelato (new flavours: bacio, pinioli, amarena)

But now it’s time to say arrivederci Roma and hop the train for Cassino, and another Canadian War Cemetery, and another Great-uncle lost too soon. Stay tuned for that, and Naples, and Pompeii, and the big hop to Greece for the most unprepared-for marathon of my life.

* I found out too late that Rick Steves has a big selection of free audioguides for major sights in Italy, that can be downloaded for free from iTunes. Damn!

Pick of Pics - Firenze

Sunday morning, outside a neighbourhood church

Firenze: It's not just tripe.

First of all, apologies for not posting in, oh, a week or so. What can I say? The muse was not with me, and the internet access was inconvenient, and there seemed to be better things to do. Wandering around Siena for instance, or getting to Rome. But let’s take a moment now and look back at Florence.

Florence had a lot to offer – much more than I had the time or inclination to partake in. But I did have a nice three and a half days, and I saw some of the biggies. (Actually, they call it Firenze in Italy, so that’s how I’ve been thinking about it. This helps with things like train schedules; it means you’re not standing around waiting for a train to Florence while six successive trains for Firenze speed off into the distance.)

Firenze, taken from Piazzale Michelangelo

The hostel in Florence, Ostello Archi Rossi, provided stiff competition for the Rossio Hostel in Lisbon. (Apparently any hostel with “Ross” in the name is a good bet.) Archi Rossi had bigger rooms, and more beds per room, but even though I shared with 8 other people the room was big enough that it didn’t feel crowded at all. And there was a free computer in the room and full bathroom as well. The hostel also had all the standard stuff that separates the great from the mediocre – free wifi, laundry machines, 24-hour front desk, helpful staff. And they offer two different free walking tours, and had an extensive collection of cheap beer, wine, and snacks for sale. Like Rossio, they had free hot breakfast with about 8 or 9 choices of what to have. Unlike Rossio, or anywhere else I’ve been, the also had free supper six nights a week. Yup, two free meals a day. And the meals were decent – your choice of about 4 different pastas and about 6 different pizzas and 3 or 4 different salads. And it was prepared on site, by actual people. Brilliant.

Archi Rossi Common area / cafeteria

As for Firenze – it’s positively crammed with galleries and churches and publicly displayed sculptures, largely thanks to the Medici family. The famed Uffizi Gallery, for instance, grew out of the private collection of the Medici family which was “bequeathed to Florence in 1743 by the last of the family, Anna Maria Ludovica, on the condition that it never leave the city.” (LP). Firenze is also home to the Duomo, and, of course, the most famous hunk of white marble ever set to with a hammer and chisel (and I’m using the word “hunk” here very conscious of the double entendre). And here’s something that surprised me about David – did you know he’s about sixteen feet tall? I did not. I really thought he was closer to life size. Nope. He’s a big boy.

David (photo thanks to Google Images, because the Accademia did not allow photos.

Oh, and thank you Michelangelo.)

Firenze also has a history of producing fine leather goods, pens and stationery. There are a lot of high-end shops selling the stuff, and every two-bit kisok in every square seems to sell cheap(ish) leather wallets and books and purses. I found a great little shop on a side street (right across from Dante’s church, if you’re looking). It was exactly as homey and cluttered and personal as I’d hoped it would be. I even did a bit of Christmas shopping.

Cluttered and perfect, with friendly English-speaking saleswoman, who loved my paper wallet (which is still going strong, thank you very much Larry).

My visit to the Uffizi was nice, though the collection only goes up to about the mid-18th century, which isn’t really my bag. I think I can safely say that after this trip is over I will never, in my life, need to see another Annunciation, or Adoration of the Magi/Shepherds, or Lamentation over the Body of Christ or (please, oh please spare me from) another Madonna and Child. The Ufizzi does have a load of nice sculpture though, and I did find “my” painting too. A very small, and probably underappreciated portrait of a monk, painted in the 1500 (!) by Pietro Perugino. It’s called “Portrait of Don Baldassare di Angelo”. (Though part of my affection for this piece may be attributed to the fact that I think it looks a lot like Patrick Stewart, for whom I have a passing fondness.)

No photo because the Uffizi doesn’t allow them, and the nice one I found on Google Images is copyrighted. Go google it yourself if you want a look. Or just imagine Patrick Stewart with a tonsure.

And, despite what the LP says, I found the size of the Uffizi quite manageable. It’s got fifty rooms (and they’re small) which is sort of titchy compared to somewhere like the Louvre or the Hermitage. And the audioguide was decent and had commentary for every room. I didn’t feel like I was racing through it, but I was still through in about two and a half hours.

I also met some good people at the hostel (well, on the free walking tours provided by the hostel). I had lunch on Friday and Saturday with walking tour people, and had an especially nice time with Narelle, who stars in my 3rd “Portrait of new friend at lunch” series. She had pizza, I had papardelle with wild boar sauce. And we shared a half bottle of Chianti.

Narelle!

Of course the Duomo is one of the must-see sights in Firenze and though the church itself did not take my breathe away, the dome is quite fantastic. It was designed by the famous rennaissance architect and engineer Filippo Brunelleschi, and is famous for being (I think) the first large dome ever built without supporting scaffolding underneath. So, like the Sagrada Familia in Barcelona, it was art and engineering at the same time, and thus right up my alley. I climbed up with Matthias and Heather, two single-serving friends from the hostel, so I even got a nice pic of me at the top.

Firenze also has a great collection of Tower Houses. These are, as astute GSRED readers may already have guessed, houses that are built as towers. Apparently in the Middle Ages the streets of Firenze were not the festival of high-end designer stores, trattorias, and gelato shops that they are today. In fact, wealthy families used to build their houses like mini castles, and live up above the mayhem that reigned at street level. Eventually they even built bridges linking different towers. Though there used to be hundreds of these buildings, and though only about thirty still survive, that’s enough that you can glance down almost any street in the historic centre of the city. One of my walking tours even visited the inside of one of these tower houses that’s preserved as a (free!) museum. It was fantastic, and had original 14th century frescoes on the walls all over the place, just like wallpaper.

One of many tower houses

And, to top things off, a had a good long run in Firenze – 33.3km, in about 3 hours and 18 minutes. That was my last long run before the Athens marathon, which is looming so close now it seems ridiculous. I will toe the line at 9:00am, on Sunday, November 8th, and though I know I won’t be setting any new personal records at this race, I am pretty confident I’ll finish. I’m also pretty confident it won’t be pretty.

Oh, and I've already mentioned it, but the gelato in Firenze was really top-notch. I've been keeping track of what flavours I've tried since I got to Italy, and have hit upon the brilliant scheme of having half chocolate and half something-else each time I hit a new shop. This means I'm not deprived of my chocolate fix, but I still try new things too. And these are the kind of innovative travel tips that are making things tick along so smoothly here at Go See Run Eat Drink, where we are powered by beer and gelato in approximately equal quantities.