I woke this morning, and was surprised to see that a market was being set up on the square in front of the hotel. I hadn’t heard a thing. At breakfast I met the two other walkers who stayed here last night. The Italian lady left just as I arrived for breakfast, whilst a Swiss man came later. We had a nice chat, he was walking south towards Rome and following the same route I am following, more or less. he had walked a lot further than planned yesterday, as he could not find a place to stay. Today he was going to look for some forest to walk through, rather than along the canal. Where he will find forest, I have no idea, the canal is surrounded by large farms, not forests.
After breakfast, I walked back to the canal where I had left it yesterday. I was surprised by the number of people on the path next to the canal. Whilst yesterday it was one person every 5-10 minutes, today the path next to the canal was packed with primarily cyclists, but also joggers, dog walkers and even a roller skater. Walkers needed to keep to the side of the path, so as not be knocked down by cyclists. It’s Friday May 1st, a national holiday in Italy. Last Friday on Italian Independence Day all shops were closed and many cafe and bars. Whilst much was closed today, far from everything was closed.
The first 6km continued along the Naviglio de Bereguardo, and the scenery was the same as yesterday, a straight path along a canal, with fields to either side. What was different was the number of people enjoying the good weather.
I passed through the walled town centre of Abbiategrasso. There were many people out and about and the cafes were packed. There was a very large congregation outside one of the churches, with many of the younger girls in white robes and family members all dressed up, celebrating first communion.
I stopped at a supermarket on the way out of town, and bought some bread, before walking along a road with signs listing the Italian constitution, point by point. I was soon in Cassinetta di Lugagnano, where I would again be walking along a canal. I stopped for a coffee and cake at a very friendly bar/sports club.
I turned a corned and was surprised by the number of people next to the Naviglio Grande, the Grand canal. At one point, the path was packed, so much so that the local police were out to make sure everything went smoothly. There was an event at the Grand Canal museum that explained the many people.
The crowds thinned out as I continued along the canal, passing Ponte Vecchio and Ponte Nuovo before reaching Boffalora sopra Ticino.
I took a break. All the restaurants were packed, so I enjoyed the fruit, bread and cheese I had bought earlier on a bench in a park. I wasn’t the only walker and cyclist resting in the park. Across the canal was a very popular and very noisy restaurant spread along the bank.
I continued along the canal for a couple more hours without much variation around me – only at the bridges where there was often a bar or similar and people enjoying the beautiful weather. I left the canal, as it continued north at Castelletto and after a steep but short climb, continued north-west.
I stopped at a statue remembering Primo Levi, an Italian author and holocaust survivor. The plaque contains lines from his most famous poem, Shema.
You who live secure
In your warm houses
Who return at evening to find
Hot food and friendly faces:
Consider whether this is a man,
Who labours in the mud
Who knows no peace
Who fights for a crust of bread
Who dies at a yes or a no.
Consider whether this is a woman,
Without hair or name
With no more strength to remember
Eyes empty and womb cold
As a frog in winter.
Consider that this has been:
I commend these words to you.
Engrave them on your hearts
When you are in your house, when you walk on your way,
When you go to bed, when you rise.
Repeat them to your children.
Or may your house crumble,
Disease render you powerless,
Your offspring avert their faces from you.
Translated by Ruth Feldman And Brian Swann
I continued along back country roads towards todays destination, Buscate, passing through Cuggiono where everything was closed. I car stopped at one point asking me if I wanted a lift, and a cyclist cycled back and forth, which I felt was a bit odd here in the middle of nowhere.
In the distance I could just see the snow clad mountains of Switzerland – I was actually in doubt whether it was clouds or mountains – and planes arriving and departing from the nearby Malpense airport.
I arrived at the hotel on the outskirts of Buscate, worn out after 33km. I had dinner at the hotel, and for the second time on this trip was served by an Englishman who moved to Italy after Brexit. I sat at the table next to some members of the UAE cycle team, who were using the hotel as a base prior to the Giro d’Italia Grand Tour, that started the following Friday.