33. Milan Italy to Interlaken Switzerland 1970

Bergamo was founded as a settlement of the Celtic tribe of Cenomani about 300 BC.

Delivery Van

The next morning I decided to get back on the road.  It was an easy hitch this time.  It was by way of Padua, Vicenza, Verona, and Bergamo back to Milan.  I must admit that I did not stop to do any sightseeing.  I managed to hitch rides with a variety of trucks and delivery vans.  I arrived in Milan in time to get a bed in the youth hostel and met some new people and some that I had met before, everyone going in different directions and looking for hitching partners.  I managed to partner with a girl heading to Grindalwad, Switzerland, abut 10 kilometers further than Interlaken.  We stayed together as far as Interlaken.
 

Our route to Interlaken was through Como and Lugano with delivery trucks.  Remember I told you in an earlier post that when traveling with a woman, the guy usually sat in the middle seat so the woman could avoid being groped.  Well that day, on one of the rides between Como and Lugano, the girl rode in the middle seat so I could avoid being groped!

Bellinzona

After Lugano our last ride was to Bellinzona where the rides dried up.  Once in Bellinzona, the trucker dropped us off at an intersection and gassed up to continue on to Chur.  We were headed to the northwest so walked to the edge of town in the direction we were headed.  We stopped at the edge of town near another petrol/convenience store to wait for some traffic and a possible ride.  After some time we eventually got a ride with a man and his young daughter.  About three quarters up the St Gotthard Pass to Hospental we had to stop to let the small engine cool down.  While we were waiting the driver said that he was going to take his daughter to the small cafe we had just passed and would be about a half hour.

Tubing

 The girl I was traveling with and I went to the edge of the parking area and, once under some trees, we noticed a stream that had people in it who were cooling down.  There was quite a number of people, making up a few families riding inner tubes on the opposite shore.  They would walk into the water, get on the tubes and ride down through the small rapids.  There were adults standing in these rapids helping to steer the children, and more adults were further downstream to ensure the children, riding the tubes, were steered into the inlet pool of slow moving water to allow them to get out, walk back upstream, and repeat the process.  We ate a small lunch, sitting on the bank with our feet in the stream.  I wanted no repeat of what happened in Greece while skinny dipping.

Climbing to St. Gotthard Pass

After a short while, our ride was ready to continue.   We continued to climb up to about 7000 feet through the ST Gotthard Pass before dipping down to Hospental, a small linear village about two kilometers south of Andermatt.  In Hospental we turned left to tackle the Furka Pass.  This pass was closed because of snow when I went through Switzerland earlier that summer.  The Furka Pass reached an elevation of about 8000 feet.  This time the car made it all the way up and then down to Meiringen with only stops for us humans.   After that it was only fourteen more miles to the youth hostel at Interlaken.  This was my third and last visit there until 2010. 

The View From the Top of Furka Pass

This route from Milan Italy to Interlaken Switzerland takes about three and a half hours to drive on today's modern roads.  In 1970 we left Milan early in the morning and it was dusk when we got to Interlaken, about ten or eleven hours on the road.

32. Venice, 1970

Venice

The next morning we had a good breakfast of fresh fruit and yogurt mixed with muesli.  The muesli was good mixed in with the yoghourt in those days because there was no raisins in the muesli.  I have an intense dislike for raisins.  Try to find some muesli without raisins today!  While we had breakfast we were joined by a girl named Candy Edwards from Western Australia who also wanted to go to Venice.

We left late that morning and headed for  the east coast of Italy towards Venice, we thought.  We drove all day over the mountains and ended on the east coast but we were about 300 kilometers south of Venice, somewhere between Ancona and Mondolfo.  Not exactly where we planned but it was the right coast and it didn't really matter when we got to Venice.  We found a small market and got some cheese , cold cuts and rolls for our supper and a little fresh fruit for breakfast and camped out near a beach along the Adriatic for the night.


The next day it was a beautiful drive up the coast to Venice and we arrived early afternoon.  I can not remember the proper name of where we ended up in Venice but can tell you we drove into the city nearly as far as we could without parking in a parking garage.  I remember we took a hard right hairpin turn after going across a bridge and ended up in a small neighborhood piazza that contained what we thought was a large warehouse building and several small apartment buildings.  The piazza was also bordered on one end of the Grand Canal.  Well, we parked near the warehouse away from the apartments and actually made arrangements to go to the laundromat.   This consisted of checking with the people living on the edge of the piazza for directions to the laundromat that we knew from "Europe on Five Dollars a Day" or a closer one that they knew of.  Once that was settled, we went back to the van and collected our clothing for the laundry.  My contribution was my two tee shirts and the bell bottom pants I was wearing!  Another person and I took our clothes off and added them to the laundry bags, otherwise we would not have any clean clothes to wear.  We were restricted to the inside of the van until our friends returned with our clothes, all nice and clean.

My situation had changed over the time that I had originally started hitchhiking through Europe.  When I first started my trek, my knapsack was full of clothes and toiletries. My sleeping bag and poncho was tied over the top of the knapsack.  Now, over the period of my travels I was reduced to essentials.  I carried in my knapsack, a sleeveless tee shirt, a loufa sealed in a plastic baggy, my sleeping bag and some food items like bread and fruit and a small composition notebook.  I wore a pair of burnt orange corduroy pants that Linda Booth had converted into bell bottoms, my second sleeveless tee shirt, a pair of sturdy sandals and  the woolen poncho that Linda had also made as a gift.  I was traveling with the knapsack over my back and Linda's auto harp over my shoulder.  I never did learn to play it!

Courtyard

While out doing laundry, the other people also stopped at a market and bought some vegetables and some meat for a soup for our supper.  After they returned, we dressed in our clean clothes and made our soup.  a couple of the locals came over and asked about the laundry and did we have any problems finding it? They then invited us to come over to their back yard for a taste of their wine.  We did that and had a quiet evening talking with the people from the neighborhood. 

The next morning we were greeted with a surprise.  While we were eating our breakfast,  a few of the workers from the warehouse came over with one of the young neighbors to translate.  We found out that what we thought was a warehouse was the local municipal public waterworks that supplied the city.  They saw that we washed clothes the day before and offered us the use of their hot showers inside the building followed by a tour of the waterworks.

Old man in Piazza

After a good breakfast, shower, and tour, we went our separate ways, some to visit museums, some to cross over to one of the islands where all the glass blower guilds were.  As usual, I walked the streets and watched the people.

I can remember, as a young child in Mechanicville New York I had a weekly egg and chicken route for my grandfather on Round Lake Avenue.  At the same time, some local gardeners would drive around in a pick up truck and stop along the streets to sell their vegetables and fruit.  And there was the ice truck, that I chased for a chip of ice hat the man gave to all us children, and the coal trucks making their deliveries.  Venice had all that only they were from Gondolas!  Vegetables galore with people yelling their wares while poling up and down the canal, large bottles of water, ice,  and coal that was shoveled into large bags and thrown over the shoulders of a young man covered in coal dust who carried the bags into the houses for the patrons.  In Saint Mark's Square there was what looked like the original pigeon lady, from Mary Poppins movie, selling food for the pigeons to the young children that played tag with them, burning up energy, before they went home or back to hotel rooms.

Children Playing in St. Mark's Square

Note:  In 2009 the feeding of pigeons was outlawed and you would be fined 50 euros for the offense.
 
That night, I remember, the local neighborhood was having a cookout that we were invited to.  We did not expect this but were prepared to contribute with some music!  We still had Gilbert Murphy with us and who in 1970 could not sing along to some Elvis Presley songs.  Another nice ending to a good day.  Almost!  The really nice ending came a little later when Candy and I moved across the piazza next to the canal to sleep under the stars.  We were almost asleep when two or three gondola's loaded with tourists came down the canal past us.  The Gondoliers were serenading the tourists in their gondolas, with classic love songs and their button accordions, all in sync with each other.  They spotted us on the edge of the canal and made sure that they drifted by so all the tourists could see us.  On the returned trip, they once again passed on our side of the canal, and this time the tourists waved to us as we all were sharing a quiet moment in time that could not be recaptured.

The Grand Canal at Might

31. Florence, Part 2. 1970

 Florence

The next day was another good one.  In the morning we hopped back into the van and headed back to town.  We had a quick breakfast of fruit and some tea.
Once on our way I remember we stopped at a park that overlooked Florence and had a fantastic panoramic view of the whole city.  After entering the old city we parked the van in the Piazza del Duomo near the Duomo di Firenze (Basilica of  Saint Mary of the Flower), and went our separate ways for the day.

Woman Playing Cello

Laundry

I once again did the backstreet thing (walking) and ended up sitting on some steps along the river listening to the echoes of someone practicing on a cello while I watched some women hang laundry from window to window and other people coming and going about their daily lives.  I do not know why this memory was so vivid unless it had to do with the blue sky, wispy white clouds, and warm summer breeze combined with the near perfect strains of the cello. I say near perfect because the woman played some phrases over and over again, until she was satisfied.  My uneducated ears were more than satisfied with the first playing, but somehow you could tell when it reached her expectations.  I left this scene when the woman came out of an apartment carrying her cello, and hopped on a bus.

David

Perseus with the Head of Medusa

After some more walking I ended up back in the Piazza and looked around the area.  Everything I wanted to see was in within walking distance.  First, there was the Cathedral.   I managed to blend in with an English speaking tour and gained an appreciation of what I was looking at.  This lasted about 45 minutes.  After that I walked down the street about three blocks to the Galleria dell"Accademia to see Michelangelo's David.  The David is awe inspiring, 17 feet tall and to my eyes, perfect.  Also found there are his four unfinished statues called "The Slaves".  This museum cost money now and has long waiting lines.  In 1970, the  there was no cost and you could go in and take your time and walk around them and take a good look.  The only problem then was trying not to step on the art students sitting on the floor sketching the statues trying to gain some insight.   In the opposite direction from the Duomo, about four blocks away is the Loggia dei Lanzi.  The Loggia is an open air museum that is still free and open 24 hours a day.  It contains many statues by famous artist mostly from Florence.  My favorite is by Benvenuto Cellini titled "Perseus with the Head of Medusa".  This was a 18 foot bronze casting, completed by doing the entire cast at once, unheard of at the time that he made it.  I had read "The autobiography of Benvenuto Cellini" the previous year and was amazed with his description of the processes he used for making this piece of art.  Actually his whole book was a very interesting read!

Couple, Hitchhiking

It was still early afternoon when we all met back at the parked van and headed back to our campsite in the farmers field.  Campfires were started and people started walking from site to site checking for rides in all directions and the possibility of new traveling companions of the opposite sex heading the same direction.  As I stated in a previous post, this was not a sexual thing.  A girl was hassled less if she was traveling with a male and a guy got rides quicker while traveling with a girl.

I found an old tab of acid {LSD} in the bottom of my backpack and split it with three of the people in my group.  This cut the strength down and we ended up with an incredible hashish like high, complete with the munchies and giggles.  How did we handle it, you ask?  There was a pizzeria down the road a couple of miles.  One of the girls that did not share the tab, drove us to the pizzeria and we ordered individual pizzas with an ungodly quantity and assortment of toppings.  Even the anchovies tasted good!

 Note to my grandchildren:  Yes, I did take some drugs in the 70's and mention taking some in this post.  I do not believe in skipping over that fact that I took some and will not lie about it.  No, I do not condone drug use.  It is an individual's choice and I have seen a number of people messed up from drugs.  I was one of the lucky ones who was not messed up, at least I do not think I was messed up.  The 70's were easy, but now in this century, there are a multitude of many more dangerous types and combinations you should avoid.  And now, enough said, and back to the post.

After devouring the pizza, a problem developed.  The girl drove us back up to the field but the the farmer or "someone else" had decided that the field was full enough and no one else could enter!  We could not persuade him that we already had a campsite inside the property with some of our equipment still there.  As luck would have it, we found a break in the fence up the road a'ways and around  a curve that was out of sight of the gate.  We were all laughing (we still had a good case of the giggles) as we immediately drove into the field and headed back to our campsite.  As we swerved around a small stand of trees, we came to a quick stop.  In front of us stood a tall slender man with his eyes closed, playing a violin and dancing.  He had a long van dyke style beard and ponytail that was almost down past his shoulder blades.  He seemed to be a very good violinist and a passable dancer, but what did we know about the subject.  We were distracted by him being completely nude! 

Nude Violinist

Things calmed down after that.   Gilbert Murphy entertained us with some more Elvis Presley tunes interspersed with some folk songs.  I seem to remember him singing about some children playing between some tenements and their mother's tossing some sandwiches down to them from the windows.  We spent the rest of the evening talking and reading.  Gilbert wrote two poems in my journal.  I shared them in my last post.  One of the girls was entertaining us by reading aloud my copy of "Europe on Five Dollars a Day".   We were doing Europe with much less money and having a blast!  All of a sudden, she stopped and looked up at us and shouted "There is a coin operated Laundromat in Venice!"  Guess where our group headed the next day!

30. Florence, Part 1. 1970

 

After my rest in Milan, I once again headed south in Italy towards Florence.  Florence was an experience!  I caught a few rides and  it was a pleasant travel day when I walked into the center of the city.  The sun seemed to glitter the whole time I was there.  I walked the back streets of the city and got lost and found my way and got lost again.  It was exhilarating!

The youth hostel was on a hill near the edge of the city.  I got a ride with some other people in another van but by the time I got there the hostel was full.  One of the people there told us of a farmer near the hostel that let hippies camp in his field.  We found it and after paying a nominal fee we set up a small campsite in the field.  There were already several small campsites set up.  The people in my campsite included the owners of the van, a couple from Vancouver, British Columbia.  If my memory is still good they got married in Morocco.  Also riding with us were two girls; one from Australia and the other, I think, from the United States.  To round off this group, we add the effervescent redheaded Gilbert Murphy.  His appearance would remind you of Ronald Beasley from the Harry Potter movies.  He was a former Roman Catholic priest turned poet/folk singer and had, at the same time, an encyclopedic knowledge of Elvis Presley tunes.


Gilbert Murphy roamed the different campsites entertaining everyone with his songs like a minstrel.  By evening all the sites were being entertained by a band made up by various musicians playing flutes, saxophones, guitars and a juice harp.  It was a mellow evening underneath the stars.

Two of his poems I found  in my notebook that he wrote, either on the spot or from memory.  One on spirituality and the other on the horrors of war.

Adieu

You left my life
You made your mark
The night has gone
But it is dark
I'll never see you again

The things you did
Shine out like stars
The memory of them
My heart jars
But when I die I will see you

Oh take me to the life that's new
Then I'll see you again
               Gilbert Murphy


War is Warped
Icicles sparked bright on leafless trees.
Twisted branches shimmered in the cool breeze.

Crispy snow yielded neath my feet
as on I strode.
On to the bridge that crossed the sprightly brook
Silent now, like a closed book.

I stared around in hollow gaze once more
The heart of man has frozen to the core

Sanguine patches blotched the virgin snow a brilliant red
Mother nature tried alas, pathetically, to conceal the dead......

(The carnage and the pointless gore)
-Would it never end, this Godforsaken war?
              Gilbert Murphy