The breakfast room at the Hotel de la Poste is full of cyclists about to set off on 100 k days and big climbs. And us. We will do 73 k and 663 metres of climb, a breeze. Appropriate Breakfast is available. That’s the way to do it, Judy. (Add Swozzle noise here.)
We had stopped short of Aquila last night and seeing the climb into town that was a good call. It is the Eagle City, after all. Doris rides through the triumphal arch. Let’s own up, we have come up into town out of a slightly morbid interest to see what effect the 2009 earthquake had. More than 300 died. The town still has a lot of cranes up, and some buildings are still waiting their turn.
Sid and Doris sat at one of the many busy cafes in the town square looking at some very elegant buildings and watching the petit train touristique chug past with a merry load of schoolchildren. Doris looked up the Michelin view of the town, which may not have been updated recently. “Abandoned, L’Aquila is slowly licking its wounds… the historic centre… (is) reminiscent of a ghost town”.
Sid looked up the Wiki history of the town. It is fair to assume that this entry is written by the local council. Its history is extensively reported from Adam and Eve to its sacking by French troops in 1799. Then nothing. Sid recalls that Italy was reunited in the mid 19th century through wars of independence, subsequently with various promises by Cavour to the regions that his successors broke; then after unification Italy had a faction that wanted the new country to go to war in 1914 to unite the country in blood and fire (with excitingly whooshy art depicting war planes), post WW1 saw the rise of Mussolini, a switch of sides in 1943, the war came through Acquila (Germans vs 8th Army as the Italians had not made it through the knock out), post war regular devaluations and constant new governments of the same old faces, the Red Army Faction, a peculiar relationship with Russia, the rise of Berlusconi and his Bunga Party… none of this impinged on Aquila. Though one of the largest buildings on the main square (still standing) was built in 1927.
We pass on through the rebuilding work, ten years on. It is easier to come to terms with earthquakes than humans. They’re not anyone’s fault.
Out on the road again we are pleased to be riding past the signs to ski resorts. We are high and still gaining height. Then we are over the col at Collo di Corno, made a few metres higher because we are sharing the route with the railway, and they have disobligingly constructed a railway bridge on the top. RideWithGPS presents a pleasingly exaggerated profile of our day.
There is lots of the day to do. Dismayingly we now lose the height we have made over two days to drop into the next valley. We brake to see the Church of Madonna of the Rock, and a handful of coins buys us a #virtualsouvenir of an icon [fortunately we still have our icons from Day 29 working hard for us in our luggage – D]. Doris spotted the Military Geographers (Ordnance Survey) trig point on the wall outside.
We are into Rieti mid afternoon in the four star Cavour. Happily all this Cavour’s promises are intact and we have a view over the river (rather than the bus station on the other side). Rieti is a pretty town made all the better because we are eating by the river with its submerged remains of the Roman Bridge. Giving up on internet sources of mis-information, we find a town info board which tells us that in the Renaissance time there was a fashion for building houses with competitively marvellous towers, so we take a photo of a tower to remind us.
