From Frying in Cassino to Splashing through the Mountains: A Wild Ride Through Italy’s Heartland
Dates covered: 25.07.25 to 27.07.25
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Day 16 – 25.07.25
Sweat, Graves, and Free Booze: A Hot History Lesson in Cassino
Righto, folks. Today might’ve actually melted our brains. No joke—thermometer said 40°C, and I reckon it was being kind. If we had eggs with us, we could’ve cooked ‘em on the tank.
We kicked off the day with a “gentle” 9 AM ride up the mountain to Monte Cassino Abbey—because, you know, what better time to start hill climbing than during a full-blown Italian heatwave?
Now, Monte Cassino isn’t just a pretty monastery perched on a hill. Nah, this place has copped a hiding. Originally founded by Saint Benedict back in the 6th century, it’s had a rough trot—sacked by Lombards, flattened by an earthquake, and absolutely obliterated during World War II when the Allies bombed the living bejesus out of it in 1944.
And when I say obliterated, I mean turned to rubble. The Nazis were dug in like ticks, using the hilltop as a prime lookout. The Allies thought they were hiding inside the abbey itself (spoiler: they weren’t), and dropped over 1,400 tons of bombs on the place. After the war, Italians went full phoenix mode and rebuilt the whole thing by 1955. Looks stunning now, even if it’s mostly brand-new stone dressed up to look ancient.
We rolled up there with the rest of the sweaty crowd, braced for another wallet-emptying tourist trap—but surprise, surprise! Free entry and no charge for bike parking. Score!
Strolling around inside gave us that goosebumps-feeling—the kind you get when you know a place has seen stuff. Proper history vibes. But the real gut punch came shortly after.
Next stop: the Polish War Cemetery. Only a short scoot from the abbey, but then came a brutally hot walk with not a scrap of shade in sight. I reckon my jacket was starting to stick to my actual soul. 1,100 Polish soldiers are buried here, most of whom fought and died during the Battle of Monte Cassino. It’s a peaceful spot, with sweeping views—and it forces you to stop, sweat, and think.
But wait, it gets heavier.
Our final war memorial for the day was the German War Cemetery in Caira. 20,000 soldiers laid to rest there, most barely out of school. Reading the birth dates—1923, 1924, 1925—made me stop dead in my tracks. What a bloody waste. The place is shaded by tall trees, and the view over the valley is beautiful. Which makes the whole thing feel even more tragic, somehow.
After that history-packed emotional rollercoaster (and physical roast-fest), we hit the supermarket like true survivors—grabbing fruit, wine, and snacks as if we’d just come back from the war ourselves. Then straight back to our air-conditioned cave.
Evening came, and we chilled outside with a couple of Kiwis touring Europe by car. Legends. We swapped stories, travel tips, and mosquito bites. Then our B&B host rolled in with free wine and limoncello. Bless him. What started as a history lesson turned into a proper social sesh.
We hit the hay a bit wobbly, full of good food, good drink, and gratitude for air con. Apparently, it was the hottest day of the year. Figures. We lived it.
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Day 17 – 26.07.25
Rain, Sausage, and Serendipity: Cassino to L’Aquila
After yesterday’s human rotisserie experience, today felt like Mother Nature chucking us in the rinse cycle.
We woke up, checked the sky—it looked sweet as. Sunny, few clouds. What could possibly go wrong?
Everything, apparently.
The plan was to cruise through the mountains towards L’Aquila. But as soon as we got into higher altitudes, the weather turned into a soggy mess. Light drizzle turned into full-blown “soak-your-jocks” rain. So we did the only logical thing: pulled over at a tiny roadside shop, parked under a corrugated iron roof, and called it an early lunch.
Bless that random shop. They served up steaming coffee, delicious paninis, and even had other soaked motorcyclists huddled under the same roof. Nothing like bonding over shared misery and soggy socks.
After about an hour (and probably too much caffeine), the rain stopped. Roads dried up, clouds buggered off, and the world became beautiful again. And mate—what a ride it was after that. We passed through Majella National Park and Sirente-Velino Park, which were absolutely cracking. Lush green valleys, twisty mountain roads, the odd goat giving us the stink eye—it was a biker’s dream, minus the earlier dunking.
Our original destination was… who even knows anymore. We binned the plan halfway through. What we did discover, though, was L’Aquila—and it’s a bloody gem.
Decided to stay two nights. Good vibes, less traffic, and perfect for a weekend chill.
Our hotel, MADI City Hotel, turned out to be a bloody good pick. Fresh renovations, underground parking (safe for the bikes), and close enough to the centre that we could walk but far enough that we didn’t hear every Fiat with a hole in the exhaust.
Only drama? We broke a bottle of wine in the parking garage. Smelled like a vineyard down there after that, but at least it wasn’t the limoncello.
Despite the rain, it turned into a pearler of a day. Sometimes the best plans are the ones you toss out the window.
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Day 18 – 27.07.25
Shaky Ground and Sunday Strolls: L’Aquila’s Quiet Comeback
It’s Sunday in Italy, which means one thing: don’t go anywhere unless you love traffic, screaming kids, and honking horns. So we didn’t.
Instead, we played it smart. Kicked back in L’Aquila, had a cruisy brekkie, and went for a walk through a town that’s still putting itself back together—literally.
See, L’Aquila was walloped by a massive earthquake in 2009. Magnitude 6.3, killed over 300 people, injured thousands more, and left most of the town in ruins. The damage was catastrophic—especially to the historical buildings. And even now, 16 years later, the scars are everywhere.
Walking through the old town feels like being in an open-air construction zone. Buildings are held up with steel beams, facades are half-gone, cranes loom over everything. But you can also feel the resilience here. People rebuilding, reopening, reclaiming their city. It’s a work in progress, but there’s heart.
Still, there are some gorgeous corners—cobbled lanes, colourful houses, quiet piazzas. We wandered for about three hours, just taking it in. The air up here is fresh, and thanks to some clever old-school architecture, the wind snakes through the narrow streets like nature’s air con. Even at midday, it wasn’t crazy hot. Not bad for a Sunday stroll.
Back at the hotel, it was photo editing, nap time, and more wine (this time safely above ground, thank you very much).
Tomorrow, we hit the road again. But for today? No engines, no helmets, no schedule. Just a sleepy town with a story to tell—and we’re listening.
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Wrap-Up So Far:
The last three days have been a mixed bag of history, humidity, hydration (read: wine), and hard truths. From the solemn silence of war cemeteries to the joyful clink of free limoncello glasses… this journey continues to dish out both gut punches and giggles.
Italy’s giving us the full buffet—heatwaves, downpours, ancient monasteries, ghost towns under construction, and motorbike chats in roadside shops that smell like sausage and petrol.
And you know what? We wouldn’t trade it for anything. Not even a working wine bottle in an underground garage.
Till next time, ride safe, stay cool (or at least hydrated), and never trust a sunny morning in the mountains.
Catch ya on the flip side! 🏍️🇮🇹🍷☀️
#dustysocks
That’s a great trip