The bridge over the Mignone River
The Mignone River trickles away to the southwest under the high viaduct. The area is thickly wooded – beautiful in autumn – and there isn’t a human dwelling in sight unless you count the Etruscan house up the cliff to your left as you approach the high bridge. Getting there requires a bit of climbing, which someone has made easier by attaching an iron ladder to the rock face. The house itself is one of the oldest dwellings yet discovered in this part of Italy.
The Etruscan House. Overlooking the Mignone Viaduct, you get there by scrambling up the cliff, with the help of an iron ladder. It is one of the oldest dwellings in this area.
We unpack our lunch and sack out on the bridge. The ironwork is properly painted and the fittings appear fairly new, testimony to the 1990s idea of resuscitating the railway. You can see the river flowing below the bridge through the flooring which consists of a (hopefully) sturdy grille. On one May Day, someone attempted to walk his dog across the bridge, but the poor beast, able to see through the grille that there was a considerable drop, refused to proceed. The hefty Alsatian had to be carried across.
Luncheon on the bridge
After a siesta, we pack up and move on. Our next hazard is a shortish tunnel which on hot days is a great favourite of the Maremma cattle that graze in the forests. On one occasion we found the tunnel chock full of cattle, including calves and at least one bull. We had to wade through them very slowly to avoid a stampede. Today the tunnel is almost empty of cattle, but full of their dung, which quickly clogs shoes and mudguards. We are thankful that it hasn’t rained recently.
A fine Maremma bull
Next comes the Long Tunnel, all 1.3 kilometres of it, or 1.6 km according to Romano Puglisi. You can feel its chill wind some time before you reach the entrance. Fortunately it is dead straight so you can see the pinpoint exit. There’s a short rendezvous to fix lights. In we go, keeping well to the right. Water drips from the tunnel roof. Not all riders have brought lights and there are moments of panic when people fall behind and lose sight of the convoy. Voices echo surreally. As we approach the end, we can see hundreds of cobwebs lining the tunnel walls and glinting in the light. It’s not, perhaps, a place to be in by yourself, the more so that, at the end of the tunnel, there is a high concrete barrier. Breeze blocks have been helpfully positioned, but a team is needed to lift our machines, and our youngest rider Richard Dawton, 6, over the wall.
Next comes the Long Tunnel, all 1.3 kilometres of it, or 1.6 km according to Romano Puglisi. You can feel its chill wind some time before you reach the entrance. Fortunately it is dead straight so you can see the pinpoint exit. There’s a short rendezvous to fix lights. In we go, keeping well to the right. Water drips from the tunnel roof. Not all riders have brought lights and there are moments of panic when people fall behind and lose sight of the convoy. Voices echo surreally. As we approach the end, we can see hundreds of cobwebs lining the tunnel walls and glinting in the light. It’s not, perhaps, a place to be in by yourself, the more so that, at the end of the tunnel, there is a high concrete barrier. Breeze blocks have been helpfully positioned, but a team is needed to lift our machines, and our youngest rider Richard Dawton, 6, over the wall.
The longest tunnel at 1.3 km. Look for light at the end of it!
This is the last of the long tunnels. Now we’re through the highest of the Tolfa Hills and getting closer to the coast. We’re going through arable farmland and at last there comes a point where we can see the sea. We stop on a low viaduct to admire the landscape and have a drink. Some of us are running out of water, which is bad news as there is no way of replacing it.
Just before a square-built, very modern tunnel we can see, above right, the ruins of Centelle, a medieval settlement built to house refugees from Saracen pirate raids on the coast. The track undulates a bit but is generally smooth and easy. We have done just over forty kilometres.
This is the last of the long tunnels. Now we’re through the highest of the Tolfa Hills and getting closer to the coast. We’re going through arable farmland and at last there comes a point where we can see the sea. We stop on a low viaduct to admire the landscape and have a drink. Some of us are running out of water, which is bad news as there is no way of replacing it.
Just before a square-built, very modern tunnel we can see, above right, the ruins of Centelle, a medieval settlement built to house refugees from Saracen pirate raids on the coast. The track undulates a bit but is generally smooth and easy. We have done just over forty kilometres.
Almost at the end of the railway just after Allumiere station.
Suddenly, it all comes to an end just after the ruined Allumiere station. The track enters a cutting but stops dead at a huge grassy mound. It continues beyond, but the cutting is choked with vegetation. We turn right up a bank and onto a farm road. It's a moment of anti-climax: after over 40 km of traffic-free riding, the old railway has become our home.
Suddenly, it all comes to an end just after the ruined Allumiere station. The track enters a cutting but stops dead at a huge grassy mound. It continues beyond, but the cutting is choked with vegetation. We turn right up a bank and onto a farm road. It's a moment of anti-climax: after over 40 km of traffic-free riding, the old railway has become our home.
We turn left up the hill and keep going past a couple of restored railway cottages, until we get to a country road going downhill to the coast. At the crossroads there’s a bridge over the railway, of which the tracks can be seen, overgrown with weeds, proceeding south towards Civitavecchia.
Freewheeling towards the Via Aurelia.
We head down the road, among cypresses, towards the busy Via Aurelia, the consular road that goes from Rome up the west coast to Pisa, Genova and into France. When we meet it, we’re near the entrance to the motorway (toll highway) and the traffic is slow. There’s the added bonus of a kiosk selling ‘prodotti regionali’ such as cheese and salami, and most importantly, bottled water. We buy ten bottles or so and drink thirstily.
We head down the road, among cypresses, towards the busy Via Aurelia, the consular road that goes from Rome up the west coast to Pisa, Genova and into France. When we meet it, we’re near the entrance to the motorway (toll highway) and the traffic is slow. There’s the added bonus of a kiosk selling ‘prodotti regionali’ such as cheese and salami, and most importantly, bottled water. We buy ten bottles or so and drink thirstily.
Hitching a ride: Richard Dawton on the crossbar, being carried by Anthony
It’s now late afternoon. We head north along the Aurelia for a kilometre, keeping well into the right-hand side. Fortunately there is plenty of room. But we now have to turn left across the traffic down a road marked ‘Litoranea’ (sea-shore). This involves waiting for a break in the traffic to allow all ten of us to cross. Fortunately the traffic is not fast at this point and motorists often stop to let riders go. The road slopes down towards the sea, past farmhouses selling wine and olive oil. Left at the next crossroads towards Civitavecchia, but then at the following crossroads we go straight over towards a camp site. We go down a narrow eucalyptus-lined road and then into a pine forest. Bearing left, we reach our destination: a wooden beach bar set just behind the rocky shore. This is just the place for weary cyclists to rest after forty kilometres of abandoned railway, downhill though most of it is. The bar has an abundant supply of “Ceres” and “Beck’s” beer, though not much to eat apart from potato crisps.
Weary riders hit the beach bar. They fantasize about not going back to work.
It’s now late afternoon. We head north along the Aurelia for a kilometre, keeping well into the right-hand side. Fortunately there is plenty of room. But we now have to turn left across the traffic down a road marked ‘Litoranea’ (sea-shore). This involves waiting for a break in the traffic to allow all ten of us to cross. Fortunately the traffic is not fast at this point and motorists often stop to let riders go. The road slopes down towards the sea, past farmhouses selling wine and olive oil. Left at the next crossroads towards Civitavecchia, but then at the following crossroads we go straight over towards a camp site. We go down a narrow eucalyptus-lined road and then into a pine forest. Bearing left, we reach our destination: a wooden beach bar set just behind the rocky shore. This is just the place for weary cyclists to rest after forty kilometres of abandoned railway, downhill though most of it is. The bar has an abundant supply of “Ceres” and “Beck’s” beer, though not much to eat apart from potato crisps.
Weary riders hit the beach bar. They fantasize about not going back to work.
The sun is now setting gloriously. It’s time to mount and ride towards Civitavecchia, skirting the huge power station with its red-and-white banded chimneys. As we enter town we pass a grim fortress-like building, on the entrance to which there is a plaque: “Casa di Reclusione” (prison). Movie buffs may recall that it was the setting for “Che Ora E?” with Marcello Mastroianni and Massimo Troisi. Another plaque recalls the sufferings of those who fell foul of the Mussolini regime and were incarcerated here.
Coast near Civitavecchia
Civitavecchia is a major port for Rome and around, with regular ferries to Corsica and Sardinia, and sometimes further overseas to Tunis and Barcelona. There’s almost always a cruise ship in the harbour. The town, badly bombed during World War II, still has its seventeenth-century ramparts and a picturesque “centro storico”. We wade through dense traffic along the seafront – it is “passeggiata” time – towards the station, to our left just behind the main drag. There are “interregionali” trains to Rome every two hours. Civitavecchia station is endowed with an excellent bar and pizzeria, and, having time to spare, we settle down for copious refreshments before getting our 20.30 train.
Civitavecchia is a major port for Rome and around, with regular ferries to Corsica and Sardinia, and sometimes further overseas to Tunis and Barcelona. There’s almost always a cruise ship in the harbour. The town, badly bombed during World War II, still has its seventeenth-century ramparts and a picturesque “centro storico”. We wade through dense traffic along the seafront – it is “passeggiata” time – towards the station, to our left just behind the main drag. There are “interregionali” trains to Rome every two hours. Civitavecchia station is endowed with an excellent bar and pizzeria, and, having time to spare, we settle down for copious refreshments before getting our 20.30 train.
The takeway pizzas are particularly good at Civitavecchia Station and there's an impressive array of drinks.
The Abandoned Railway: some background
A railway from Orte, in the interior, to Civitavecchia, an important port, was planned as early as 1870 when the Terni steelworks, near Orte, were built. It was thought that a railway would provide an ideal outlet for the products of the interior. But construction wasn't started till 1922 and only finished in 1929 - a long time for a railway of just under 80 km. This was because the line went through the difficult terrain of the Tolfa Hills.
A railway from Orte, in the interior, to Civitavecchia, an important port, was planned as early as 1870 when the Terni steelworks, near Orte, were built. It was thought that a railway would provide an ideal outlet for the products of the interior. But construction wasn't started till 1922 and only finished in 1929 - a long time for a railway of just under 80 km. This was because the line went through the difficult terrain of the Tolfa Hills.
Viabiity
The railway never seems to have been particularly viable. For heavy goods, it was often easier, owing to the hills and consequent steep gradients (to which any cyclist trying to do the trip from Civitavecchia to Capranica can testify) to go the long way round via Rome. Passengers were relatively few in number: the line was used by a few rural residents, as, before World War II, there were few cars or roads in the area. Passenger numbers increased in summer when holidaymakers from Viterbo would head for the coast. But by the 1950s road transport was taking over.
Closure threat
The line was constantly under threat of closure and was finally done for by the landslide of 8 January 1961. After three days of non-stop rain, a cutting wall at the entrance to one of the tunnels subsdied and blocked the line. Though the blockage was easy enough to clear, the incident was used as an excuse to close the line. Thereafter it was only used over certain sections by the Army.
In the 1980s, however, there was a revival of interest in the line, partly fuelled by local protests at its closure. Work was started to reline the tunnel walls and strengthen the bridges so that electric trains could be used. This accounts for the generally excellent state of cuttings, tunnels and bridges. The Mignone viaduct was restructured and unexploded World War II ordnance (the bridge was bombed during the war) removed. Inexplicably, however, the project was abandoned in 1998, presumably on grounds of cost. From time to time there are plans to re-open the railway, but nothing has come of them so far.
Site
For more information, see the excellent site, in Italian, on the history of the Orte-Capranica-Civitavecchia railway. This is part of a much larger site on the industrial archaeology of north Lazio, entitled ARCHEOIND.
Practicalities
Maps
Unfortunately no currently published maps show the line of the old railway, which seems an amazing omission for such an important feature. Some idea of the trace of the line through the countryside can be gained from the marked localities through which the line passes. I'll try to add a Google map, rudimentary though it will be, to this post in the near future.
Trains
Run regularly from Roma Ostiense to Capranica, and from Civitavecchia to Rome. For times, see the Trenitalia site.
As mentioned earlier, there is absolutely no advantage in doing this ride from Civitavecchia to Capranica, since there is a pronounced gradient almost all the way.
Food and drink
Bring your own. Stock up with water at the Capranica station bar, and, especially in hot weather, overestimate your needs. There are no supplies along the way except at Blera.
Enjoy! If you do this ride and wish to share your experiences, write a comment in the language of your choice, within reason!
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