2 nd of September
Very heavy rainfall wakes me up at about two in the morning. There was an article in the paper yesterday about a railway line that was cut in one of the places |I'm going to be walking through in a few days. The article also warned about generally bad weather conditions this autumn, flooding, landslides etc ..... all sounds great .... might have to get myself sme equipment
I decide that I'm definitely under-equipped should that be the case but that I can?t do really do anything about it at this time of night and go back to sleep.
The morning is actually bright and the day will turn out very nice and hot.
I enquire about breakfast to be told that they don?t do it in this pension, so I pay my bill (
- "Do you need a receipt?? "(i.e. Do you mind if I cash this one in tax free??)
- "No, that?s fine"
The guy rewards me with a warm smile that has nothing to do with the fact that he thinks that a bloke with a rucksack and walking boots standing in the doorway at 8 a.m. on a Sunday morning would be receptive to some human kindness (or a cup of coffee, for instance). Anyway it was cheap and quiet, apart from the fact that all the furniture was shaking if you walked in the room.Oh, and whoever made that lovely macramé lampshade gets 19 out of 20, and would have got 20 if it had been dusted recently.
The walk is a bit more interesting with many ore buildings that look mostly abandoned (or are they just used part of the year?). Shutters closed, walls with crumbling plaster, dampness. And a few actually nice looking villas.
Dolo is busy with it's Sunday tasks: getting Grandmother to the Church, cycling about, getting married, buying cakes, looking at windows of closed shops, gesticulating at the edge of the river.
I imagine, I must represent somewhat of an exotic sight with my rucksack and walking boots, suntan oil mixed with sweat on my face, to this Sunday morning community.
I come to this conclusion, because once in a while an old guy on his bicycle passing me at about my walking speed will turn his head to have a look at me, only to turn it straight the other way. I deduct from this that he's worried he might have to talk about this vision in the confessional, but keeping the eye contact to a glimpse might exempt him from this embarrassing duty.
The river takes me to Stra, which looks like a smaller, northern Italian version of Versailles. Also, my first encounter with a few troupes of tourists of mainly German descent. This seems like a nice setting to roll the marble ands also generally taking a few pictures of the statues in the main hall, which is free of entry.
I notice the "Video and Photos strictly forbidden" sign (I think it WAS only in English), after having taken quite a few shots....but none of the guards take any notice of me.
The last 10 km along the canal are actually a path that take me to the outskirts of Padova.
It all looks very suburban and industrial and the first person I meety tells me there's about 5km into town and I therefore decide to take a bus.
I find a very pleasant trattoria (Spaghetti sullo scoglio, polpo ai fagiolini e patate al aceto basalmico). I know you don't like that kind of stuff, so don't be jealous!
I locate a hotel, have a siesta and then spend the rest of the day and evening wandering about, doing some filming and photos.
Palazzo della ragione (che nome!!!!) is really fascinating with all it's different levels and the arcades of shops in its guts.
The streets are busy well up to 11 o'clock, families, kids, dogs, couples, young and old are enjoying the end of a nice and sunny Sunday and I'm looking forward to have a proper walk around tomorrow ... and am hitting the sack now.
