August 17, 2016 to August 18, 2016
Casalmaggiore to Cremona.
No fiddling about, we head for Stradivarius country- Cremona.
August 17 Wednesday
August 18 Thursday 63kms
Casalmaggiore to Cremona.
No fiddling about, we head for Stradivarius country- Cremona.
Wednesday. The route from Casalmaggiore along the top of the stop bank is cool in the early part of the day and we fly along the sealed surface. Soon though, the temperature picks up and the Po plane is baking at a respectable 30+. We endeavour to follow the signs as closely as possible but they are a little intermittent and unlike the Loire we rarely see the river.
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After stopping for a coffee in a small town, where another young waitress generously refills my bottle with ice cold sparking water, we decide to cut to the chase and head direct to Cremona on a local road. It is busy enough and though it has a small shoulder for a while, it’s intermittent and the exposure to fast cars and trucks- albeit, driven, in the main, considerately- is a little scary.
With this incentive, we reach Cremona in record time and immediately head for the camp ground near the river. Cycling through, the city feels reasonably cycle tolerant and has useful lanes. What I like about cycling in Italy is that you’re never alone – there’s always another cyclist going the wrong way down a one way street (mind you, sensibly, France allows this practice) or going through a red light or on the footpath or cycling in a pedestrian zone so one’s guilt is assuaged a little.
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In true Italian style, the camp will not open until later, after siesta, so off we go to the river park for our own siesta. The Po is much in evidence from the park- a broad grey-green, slow moving river. There is no sign that swimming or boating are part of the Po’s attractions, but there are plenty of people making use of the park exercising or chatting in family groups.
Later we are inducted into the campground. Massive in size but sparsely populated, it maintains the bizarre tradition established by French campgrounds of a paucity of toilets but an overabundance of less useful items like foot baths, of which there are around six large bidet sized contraptions- perhaps they are in fact reassigned bidets. The showers require a jeton for hot water but cold water is in fact a relief. The campground, like the city, is hot, dusty and dry but offers shady relief from the heat.
It is good to get the tent up again- the first occasion since the pocket handkerchief site at Lago Garda. This is quite a contrast- acres of space, but no lake to cool off. Our setting up is sluggish in the heat. Over cold beer at the camp bar, which seems to have the same function for the Locals as the RSA or Cosmopolitan club, we negotiate the next move. In the light of our heat fatigue and the difficulties of the trail, a train to Turin and a few days there to plan the next stage is settled upon.
We have enough in the food bag to construct a reasonable dinner, prepared after applying lashings of mosquito repellent.
Thursday. The next day we cycle across cobbled streets to get train tickets, stopping to admire the elegant brick palaces and centuries old churches. Maintenance must be a never ending expense. The wide main piazza hosts a cathedral, baptistry, armoury and palazzo which is now the town hall.
The violin museum is the highlight of the day. We spend a few hours in its cool interior ( both air conditioned and modern in design and style), and discover its craft, its history and the history of the other stringed instruments, made in this town.
There are many glass cases of instruments to be admired (they are also loaned to musicians) but the curved round wooden room, like a giant pumpkin, in which one can sit and hear them played, is my favourite. Along with a Stradivari violin and guitar, is an Amati and a Guarneri. Dvorak and Schubert are the composers I remember.
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After a wine in the main piazza we head home to our Marmot for dinner, passing a ‘Simply’ supermarket on the way that has a reduced price cooked chicken and potatoes. We also buy salad ingredients.
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At the campground we meet and have a beer with three Aussie policemen - two retired, one working still in Melbourne. They are travelling in a camper van on a round trip from Munich. They are good company.
Today's ride: 63 km (39 miles)
Total: 3,163 km (1,964 miles)
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