- r a d i c o f a n i

“Nothing is worth more than this day” - Goethe

 ••

Today saw 25 km from San Querico to Radicofini. I woke up early, in a dorm of 20 pilgrims it was easy. 

Luckily there was coffee at 5AM and we shared some traditional Tuscan cake for breakfast. 

The sunrise was beautiful in a way that could not be captured by the camera, so I tried some and then just enjoyed the glow over the Tuscan countryside. 

The first stop of the day was not cappuccino and brioche per routine. The path winded around a pool of thermal water. Everyone paused to take pictures, but I started taking off my socks. Soon it was a party of 8 pilgrims in a new element and the best moment of the day.

Luckily the hotel had a sense of humor about it, and a nice cafe attached for cappuccino brioche. We walked on, everyone was recharged by the break and felt they had experienced something unique before 8AM.

I had so much energy walking for no reason at all. I saluted a braying donkey and speared out from the group with a long stride. Just as the heat of the day was beating down and the hill to Radicofini began climbing around 12pm, a couple from Bologna pulled aside and offered me a ride up the hill. They had done this stage of the Via Francigena three years ago.  

They dropped me off at the church where I would stay for the night, and reunite with many friends. Before dinner, we received a very special benediction for pilgrims, the ceremonial washing of the feet.

I was absolutely humbled and a bit culture shocked, they prayed for us by name, rinsed and kissed one foot of each pilgrim. 

But I felt so much the power of the ritual, and understood a tiny bit of the Italian - “ a Roma”. 

- s a n • q u i r i c o

​“Don’t be afraid. If you are afraid, you can’t move forward” 

- Malala Yousafzai​

​••

Today saw 25km if walking to San Quirico, 3 pilgrim goodbyes, some new friends, and a some kind of breakthrough with the aches and pains I have been experiencing on the trail.​

We started from Ponte D’Arba in the dark on a long trail, with no coffee at the hostel and the promise of a cappuccino ​/ brioche seeming to be faraway.

But we came to the smart town of Buonconvent at last. It was literally bittersweet because the chocolate brioches was fresh and warm, but our friends following the Assisi trail had to go a separate way. 

After many hugs and pictures, we found the trail again. I found a lot of energy in the sun, and it seemed with my new sneakers I could walk forever.  There were few stops on the way, so we improved with big round haybales. I stretched backwards on one like i had been dreaming of.

We passed some unique trees and I realized I was only nine days from Rome. Suddenly I just wasn’t worried about my back. I felt it was getting better every day, like my bugbites were almost healed, and I had a surge of faith I was going to make it in my own way.

I walked quickly when the sun got hot, and was one of the first to reach the city. I put my legs up on the hard cot in a stretch and closed my eyes. I knew the drill by now, and could already imagine the pain of these long walks, hard beds, and sweaty nights, dark mornings and mosquito bites transforming into a sweet memory, but not yet. I took a breath and felt the peace of the moment. 

- p o n t e • d’ a r b i a

“in the dew of little things the heart finds its morning and is refreshed” -

khalil gibran

today’s new boots saw 35 km of walking - 25 of the prescribed path, plus a 10km round trip detour when we lost the path to

avoid barking dogs on the loose. 

I walked with my friend Alice. It was hard to get going at 4AM for both of us, so we never caught the rest of the group.

But it as a wonderful walk of shared silence, incredible landscape, and music. 

It was nice to share some “You too? I thought I was the only one” belly laughs about pilgrim stuff - stocking up on sheets of toilet paper in the bathroom of cafes with grouchy management, trying in vain to make yourself presentable when you reach a city like Siena or Lucca by walking the way.

I also learned some new Italian words, my favorite of all time maybe being “fare la scarpetta” - the technical term for eating every last drop of sauce from your pasta dish by soaking it up with a piece of bread when you finish the pasta.

”In my house,” she said, “if you don’t do it it like, is something wrong? Are you feeling sick?”  

The animals we saw around us- the flighty birds that pop out of bushes and red-skinned roosters, are also apparently prepared into excellent dishes in Tuscany. After 25km, we started to get hungry. Just as we were listing favorite flavor of gelato, big bushes of blackberries - “more” (plural of mura, pronounced MORE- AY)  appeared all along the path.

I am a bit of a “ghiottone” for wild berries so I have no pictures, but that I live another day without starving on the trail is maybe the best takeaway from these rows and rows of bushes. Even when we lost the Via Francigena for a few extra kms, a bright side was the fattest berries of the day, not yet picked over by other pilgrims.

 It was a day of slowly discovering the Tuscany countryside, learning and sharing. In the end, I was  glad I woke up at 4AM and dressed in yesteday’s damp running shorts instead of sleeping in and taking a train from the city. As my friend pointed out at 9AM- four hours into walking today, if we took a car, we could be in Rome for lunch!

- s i e n a

 “Every step of the way to heaven is heaven” 

- Catherine of Siena

•• 

today’s stage to Siena saw about 25km, lots of red clay, my third pair of walking shoes since Canterbury, and one terrific Tuscan Contrada party to celebrate.

The trail guides said there was no water on the path this day, but actually, one private home was turned into a pilgrim oasis after 10km. 

...complete with its own stamp  

The owner does everything on a donativo basis, but I did promise to send a postcard from New York. He had a binder with plenty from Rome! After passing the Nutella many times and some espresso, we walked on. 

An hour later, we had the snack we prepared. Tomato on crusty bread. A real crowd pleaser in the French/Italian/American group. Made better when we discovered olive oil.

And at finaly we entered Siena, where we rested in the center of town.

At night, a friend of a friend of mine from New York invited us to a Contrada party. The part of Siena celebrating tonight was named for their shell symbol, also a symbol of pilgrimage.

I met many young Americans from Connecticut and California who were studying abroad at the University of Siena. I realized we shared the same accent, and we shared something else that reminded me of college - slices of pizza! 

- m o n t e r i g g i o n i

 “I hope you will go out and let stories, that is life, happen to you...”

Clarrissa Pinkola Estés

 ••

today’s walk was an August-in-Italy-hot 30k to the ancient walls of Monteriggioni.

with a bit of effort we found the trail and [mostly] stayed together. 

I have an unofficial rule when walking the Via Francigena that all wrong turns can be photo opportunities, as they usually reorganize your time and show you something you wouldn’t have seen otherwise. Today, loking for the right turn was a discussion that created a pause in very beautiful light.

we found two good ways that led to coffee in the end.

We visited an ancient walled city on the way and took more photos among tour buses and school field trips. 

The final road to Monteriggioni passed through blue skies, stone walls and olive trees. It had a dreamy quality, like a storybook bible. 

When we finally reached Monteriggioni it was a huge effort to make the final hill into the city. I raced my nearest teammate up it in a moment of feigned competition with an element of seriousness. I lost, and probably created a reason to be 10x more sore than usual today. 

But I laughed so hard when I finally got there.

- s a n • g i m i g n a n o

“Destiny has a lot to do with it, but so do you. You have to persevere, you have to insist” - Andrea Bocelli

•• 

today was a magical, short, short sunrise hike.

i walked fast but stopped often to take pictures. I was lost in thought, and before I knew it, I was lost in muddy fields of grapes.   

what I eventually found was a cappuccino-brioche and a coffee at 8:30am, but I didn’t find my friends ahead or behind me until I reached the city.

Almost as soon as I stepped in the city walls, I saw Alice then Max stepping out of the store.

 “What happened? We almost organized a mission to find you!” One said 

 “No, if you got all the way across France by yourself I knew you would find us here” sthe Canterbury - Rome pilgrim said.

It was true. Nowadays I wonder if I had to walk so much alone as I did in the first month , I would be able to after enjoying about a week of traveling south in an Italian army. 

But the soltitude when I was lost few hours was also in its way, wonderful. The morning sun and free rythmn eased the grinding wheels of my mind today.

The reunion inside the city was a good feeling. 

They even managed to save my spot inside the very-hard-to-book pilgrim hostel.

No reservations, just show up as early as possible with your credential to get one of 10 beds when the place opened at 2PM.

I remember another Via Francigena pilgrim far ahead of me describing the way things worked in this part of the path. He grumbled that swarms of Italians would descend on the cities close to Rome and book up everything out  ahead of time, forcing him to wild camp every night. 

I remember praying to God when it was my time I could somehow be part of the Italian swarm and not have to sleep outside.

And today I am very grateful.

- g a m b a s s i

 “the future starts today, not tomorrow” - karol wojtyla

 ••

yesterday’s stage reached gambassi therme, a tiny ancient town about 30 km closer to rome, named for its thermal springs.  

​a very special part of the trail was finding ancient shells from when the area was under the ocean 5 million years ago.

although one other treat of the day was supposed to be a swim in the thermal pools the town is named for, it was really gelato the second the “oasis di pellegrino” bar was reached on the trail.

the pilgrim accomodation was not much further, and a wonderful historic church grounds to wash clothes by hand and eat a pasta dinner.  

the spectacular sunset created a perfect light to look at every olive tree and oddity in the yard.

a l t o p a s c i o - s a n •m i n i a t o

“There is more to life than increasing its speed” - Mahatma Gandhi

•• 

Yesterday saw 30 sunny hot kilometers, three coffees, a lost (and found) iphone, two adorable kittens, and to end everything wonderful peach and berry cake made with love and shared around a big table of pilgrims.

the night before we enjoyed a typical small village party in the streets of altopacio.

it was an early morning start the next day. We set off in the dark. I was covered sweat and bugbites before even beginning.

My friend lent me a strong walking sticks and I found a new way to carry my bag.

I saw pigeons on their perch, still under the watchful eye of a ferociously barking dog.

We followed a pair of horseback riders along the river, one with a dressage saddle, one bareback.

I got a bit lost after we stopped for coffee, but I slowly caught back up with everyone. The connection of the path was stronger than any cell service available. 

When we arrived in the town, I realized I had lost my phone somewhere along the path. There was nothing to do but continue to the hostel, so we did. Two friendly kittens made everything okay. 

There was a plate of spaghetti for each of us waiting. I didn’t know what to do about my phone, but for a few hours, there was nothing more urgent than to shower and take a nap, so I did. 

When I woke up, the owner of the hostel had come back, and graciously offered to drive to where I thought I left my phone. The only real directions I could give was that it was after a gas station that began with the letter “T”.

Four pairs of eyes piled in the car for a wild goose chase.  

We split to walk on the path and meet back with the car to drive up to the city again.

We walked 500 meters, scanning the grass for a glint of iPhone - an exercise in futility. Miraculously, this went on for just three minutes before the two in the car called.

”They found it” the other member of the search party shouted. 

I had no idea how this was true, but it was.  

They found the cafe I had stopped in for water and left my phone with right away by car. 

With everything back in order, there was nothing to do but relax before dinner. 

I put my phone away to enjoy the food and company, and it was wonderful. 

- a l t o p a s c i o

“there are always flowers for those who want to see them” - Henry Matisse

Today saw a “molto brutto” stage of the Road to Rome, leaving bellissima Lucca to hike on mostly flat road to Altopascio. 

And yet, the path is changing in another way as I get closer and closer to Rome.

There are more and more other pilgrims on the road now. The Via Francigena is very well ordered into about 18 days or “stages” from here to Rome. The discipline of setting a target each day, waking up very early to start, and crucially, stopping when it is reached, has been a pleasure. 

Villafranca to Aulla was the last day I walked by myself, and I am really grateful. Walking with other people throughout the path has been a huge relief.

You can work together to find the path. There is peace of mind knowing you could help each other if you suddenly had a need. When then the path is industrial and lacking in aesthetic, you can turn your attention towards learning about the people around you from all different places in the world and life. 

Yesterday, we arrived at 12PM so I had much more time to visit the Lucca and the others I walked with amicably made a small tour of the cathedrals, plaza, walls of the city and local food.

When I arrived back at the hostel, I was dead tired, but I finally figured out who I was sharing a room with - Alice (ah-li-ché), a girl the same age as me who came from Firenze to walk the Via Francigena from Lucca to Rome.

I didn’t know this at first, I just said yes to tagging along to view the eclipse with her and some filmmakers from Lille in northern France, because I knew I would have to wait 100 years for another chance. 

It was fun. Curiously, the highlight of watching the lunar eclipse was listening on the sound equipment one of the filmmakers brought to record the night in lieu of taking pictures.

With a microphone on a small stand and headphones on, you could hear all the sounds of Lucca on an alive night- cars closing in the distance, someone a few meters away explaining how an eclipse works in Italian, children running and laughing outside the city walls, a little more opera singing, motorcycles.

I could never have imagined that experience. Staying up a little late for the eclipse led to a great day. Alice and I coordinated waking up early to walk together and yesterday’s army grew by one more.

c a m a i o r e - l u c c a

“things don’t have to change the world to be important” - steve jobs

I am writing from the loveliest cafe in Lucca. It’s 3PM and I am drinking an American coffee.

Because Cappuccino after 10AM - never! 

Okay, on different day this cafe playing Dua Lipa and selling Herschel backpacks might look suspiciously like an Italian version of Urban Outfitters but- the coffee is wonderful, everything is marble and I am floating on a cloud.

Today’s walk was about 25km. I began before 5AM. I actually thought I was waking up in the middle of the night to get water from the kitchen, but the other pilgrims in the hostel were taking coffee to start the day.

In a moment, I decided to grab my tiny backpack in the dark and join them. 

My one hesitation was that I wanted to say goodbye again to my friends Francesca and LeLe.

It felt like a good omen that as I was heading down the stairs to leave Francesca had also woken up in the night (or maybe it was my rustling next door) to say bye once more.

I fastened my still wet socks to top of my backpack.

We started walking five deep in the dark. 

The pace was brisk. Among the ranks of the pilgrims was Massimo, an Italian retiree who had amassed 77 marathons over a running career of more than 30 years.

“When I run a 42km marathon”, he said, “and I have 41 km in my legs and one remaining, I start thinking about the next marathon” 

It’s always nice to meet people who speak your language! 

We walked about 6 hours, covering 4-5 kilometers some hours.

Some uphill was challenging for me. I took energy from my new yellow Via Francigena scarf from LeLe and Francesca, already  glued to my ​forehead with salty sweat. 

But what I will remember most about today is maybe the precious hour we spent having coffee with Sergio and Rossetta, an octogenarian couple living in town of 180 people. They invited us in their home just after chatting with us on the road.

They showed us what they loved the most, their garden and their one “bella regazza” - beautiful daughter. 

It was a wonderful repose.  

The trail continued, a small army that occasionally lost one to a phone call or stop inside a church. We passed several churches, without bothering to stop, though, the Italians pointed out, several predated the discovery of America in 1492.

 The last part of the trail was flat and followed a river, another nice repose, and before noon we were in Lucca, a chic Tuscan city with the best gelato, the prettiest violin and opera music floating into the streets from practice studios, and the cleanest shower in the world. 

m a s s a - c a m a i o r e

 “...waking at very early dawn amid all that sweat, he had found himself comparing this journey with his own life...”

- Giuseppe Tomasi di Lampedusa, El Gattopardi

Today saw 30km from Massa to Camiaore. 

The day was hot and the path was climbing and full of surprises.

A view of the Mediterranean Sea and the first town of the Cinque Terre.

A sculpture and frescos by Botero inside a cathedral in Pietrasanta...

In the final kilometer of the walk, a beautiful beautiful papagayo who didn’t mind playing show-off for us.

Upon reaching the hostel, I realized my friends would be leaving tomorrow- a reality of pilgrimage. 

It was very special to me that they surprised me with a gift- a Via Francigena scarf printed custom by an artist friend- to match theirs.

 “Send is a picture with it when you get to Rome!”  they said. 

I’m working on it! 

c a n i p a r o l a - m a s s a

 “It’s fun to be alive. It’s a hell of a lot better than being dead” - Joe Strummer

••

Today! The new routine of prying my eyes open at 5:30 AM and heading out the door as soon as possible is going well!

This morning saw a beautiful sunrise.

Between the microwave and the tiny electric kettle, there was instant coffee for all at the pilgrim hostel.

Yet, once I found the Via Francigena path and was walking along, I couldn’t resist the open door of the first cafe for a proper Italian coffee.

While I was still there, the Italians, Francesca and LeLe, I had been on the path with since Aulla, also stopped by.

“Ciao! Ciao!”

I was going a little slowly over my coffee. But I knew that their target for the day was Massa, like mine, and that they would make good time.

I hustled to fall in step behind. 

As much as the solitude of walking alone is tonic, walking with other people keeps me going! 

Even better, Francesca and LeLe’s style of walking was just like mine ​

“7 hours for walking, 2 hours for the photos”​

Francesca joked aptly..​

and ​nearing the midway point to Massa, LeLe got serious-

“Target: Gelato​.”

So we speak the same language after all!

The trail climbed to vineyards and views of the Mediterranean Sea. The clouds helped cover the sun. We found wild berries.  

I learned something awesome from Francesca. I asked when the figs would be ripe, and she told me usually the end of August or September. Bt actually, it’s possible for some fruit to ripen before. Even individual fruits on the same tree can ripen a month or two apart from each other. I love a metaphor, so I put this amazing nature fact in my back pocket for the next time I feel tempted to compare my trajectory to my peers’...

We passed marble factories and they pointed out the mountains where the marble was extracted from. I noticed even the street curbs and the stairs of the convenience store, was white marble.

We approached Massa with some hills. The word “hill” apparently sounds indistinguishable from the word “hell” to Italian pilgrim ears. So I learned a new word, “inferno”, and saved a little inspiration for today’s quote.

a u l l a - c a n i p a r o l a

 “I was a sunburnt pagan now. I felt privy to mysteries” - William Finnegan, Barbarian Days

 ••

Today’s went from Aulla to Caniparola, just outside Sarzana.

I left at 6AM this morning and finished with plenty of daylight. By 4pm, I was jockeying for the shower with the same pilgrims that just this morning I had eyed taking last cream-filled croissant from the bakery on the Via Francigena path.

My clothes are now drying in the sun and im listening to some siesta snores from the top bunk. So this is what it’s about!

Actually though, it was really cool to start and end the day with other pilgrims on the road. I was determined to do things differently. I was the first to leave this morning at 6am. At the bakery, I saw some others, but they didn’t want me to wait.

“I’ll catch up, we are going on the same path”.

When I stopped to stretch, I did catch up with the first pilgrim. When I stopped to take pictures, I lost her.

I came to a picnic table and decided to reorganize my backpack in the sunlight.

While I was taking this second break, the Italian couple I joined for dinner the night before passed me with their walking poles. I said hi as I  finished folding and rearranging my things to satisfaction, and never caught up with them again on the trail.

After breezing through a tiny town with no cafe (I tried!) the trail started climbing and climbing. I thought I saw a VF trail marker, but I became nervous when I checked my compass and I seemed to be going north. I walked a good 400 meters back to study the last marker.

“Painful mistake”

The Flemish accent of one half of the retired pilgrim couple I also met at the ostello summarized this 1km detour on one of the most difficult parts of the trail.

But no matter, now I had backtracked enough to share the trail with him and his wife. I knew they would climb slowly and accurately.

He checked something that looked like a beeper and assured his wife there was only 500 meters of climbing left. I had also met her the night before.

I remembered  as she put her things down on a cot, she had the look of the a pilgrim who had spent all day in the hot sun and was audibly out of breath.

Respect!

I asked what their objective for the day was; the ostello 3km outside Sarzana, like me. And I decided to fall in step behind. I trusted they were going to make it, early and out of breath, more than I trusted myself.

Following behind two massive backpacks on the uphill reminded me it isn’t easy for anyone.

Finally the climbing stopped, and we took a break at the top of the hill.

Another couple from the night before caught up; from Poland. The man was stoic. His wife, Anna, a geography teacher, was almost a Pixar animation. From talking to them and looking at the patches on their bag, I learned they had made many, many, pilgrim ways over the years, including very long and difficult ones I had never heard- from Poland to Rome! Passing the Pyrenees! 

But at the end of the 500 meters of climbing in Tuscany today, a relatively small feat, Anna danced in celebration.

What a vibe!

We took a selfie - “say marmalade!”

When we started walking the group spread out a bit again. I reached the St. Antonio ostello with the Belgians and completed my new routine. A shower with a tiny piece of soap that I also used to wash my clothes in the sink, a lay down, and some time to write.

The Italian pilgrim couple was there too! They invited me to a program going on at the church; a presentation on athletes with physical handicaps cycling from Rome to Santiago.

The athletes connected with the pilgrims, like this man who gave the Camino bracelet he was wearing for five years to one of the cyclists.  

It was a very cool ending to a hot Italian summer day. 

••

v i l l a f r a n c a - a u l l a

 Each day is a little life; every waking and rising a little birth; every fresh morning a little youth; every going to rest and sleep a little death. - Arthur Schopenhauer

••

Today was a very short day of walking. But I hope a very important day of the trip. 

When I left the albergo, Giancarlo said that my target for the day Aulla, was only 10km away as far as he knew, maybe 40km (did he mean 14?) by the Via Francigena.

I thought since I had taken such a long way yesterday, I would try the most direct route today. I walked a very unscenic path along cars and gas stations to Aulla, until I found the bicycle path, which worked very well. 

I arrived in Aulla with plenty of time to spare, and looked at the pilgrim musuem there. I asked for a stamp. I tried to show that my pilgrim passport was full and I wanted to buy another if possible. I thought this was successful. 

Then I tried to ask what the pilgrim accomodation was. The volunteer told me she did not know. But I saw a sign for the abbey. I knew I had to be in the right place.

I watched the volunteer lead another pilgrim with walking sticks, a sun hat and a big bag pack to a building behind the church. 

I was sure I was in the right place! But why hadn’t the volunteer showed me the way? I read a paper on the musuem table about the accomodation for pilgrims, very clearly printed in 4 languages, including English.

I realized very sheepishly that since I was walking with the tiny canvas daybag I had picked up at the the Col de Grand San Bernard Giftshop, and a cool linen dress with my sneakers because my other two outfits were dirty, the volunteer had just quickly judged I was a lost tourist looking for a hotel, not a Via Francigena pilgrim looking for the abbey.

I found this kind of funny. I showed all the stamps on my passport since Canterbury and a photo of my the big backpack I left behind. I don’t even think I had to do all that, just asking a second time was enough.

But something crystallized. Watching the other pilgrims filter in, all arriving in the early afternoon in a uniform of big Osprey backpacks, wide brim hats, and walking sticks, I saw a real part of the walking/pilgrim culture people who have done the Camino de Santiago first (which is most people) talk about.

On my lonely track, I had been taking notes from Simone De Beauvoir, who I read in a panel somewhere in France “didn’t bother with all the preliminaries, and never obtained the semi-official rig of rucksack, studded shoes, rough skirt and windcheater breaker”.

I watched the other pilgrims wash their clothes in the sink first thing and put them in the sun to dry, then relax and organize their packs.

Yup, never tried it.

I talked to the other people in the room who wanted to know how many kilometers I was making everyday. I watched people take out their thread and needle for blisters.

So this is the simple rhythm of life people are enjoying when they talk about pilgrimage.

The girl on the bottom bunk who said she would start at 6am tomorrow.

To me, a lot of the Via Francigena experience has been as erratic and eccentric, as full of people and media and tangents as my life in New York

My pilgrim life has happened between the hours of 10AM to 10PM. It never took on the measured, disciplined satisfaction I used to feel about recycling, laundry, and cleaning when I stuck to the same routine for 4 months, part of a time when I moved outside Manhattan and saved carefully for a trip like this someday.

I reflected on all this as I took a shower, washed my clothes in the sink, and angled them in the sun to dry.

tie dye crop top of mine fell below the balcony and an Italian nun in a white and beige habit retrieved it without translation.

Maybe there was something to being a 6am pilgrim, a sub 4 marathoner, someone whose phone stays charged and follows their GPS. I still had time to find out.

With my extra hour before dinner, I sat at the fold out table in the window and put pen to paper. I copied the name of each city remaining from the Via Francigena app into the days of my paper planner with the distance in kilometers. I caught a glimpse of Rome and experienced a new thrill.

- v i l l a f r a n c a

 “Whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable--if anything is excellent or praiseworthy--think about such things.” -  Phillipians 4:8

Good morning from Tuscany! Have you ever seen such a beautiful sky? Yesterday saw a day of walking about 20 km along the ancient Via Francigena path from Pontremoli to Villafranca (halfway to Aulla). 

There are two Via Francigena paths that run from Pontremoli to Aulla; I think I took the long one.

A clap of thunder sounded as I set off on the path. I put my raincoat on over myself and my small canvas backpack for about 10 minutes until the rain passed.

The first part of the trail hiked up into the woods behind some beautiful Tuscan homes, then emptied to a more commercial road.

On the road was an open bakery with pink boxes. I stopped.

Outside, I was happy to spy an olive tree growing in front of a pretty orange house. I recently learned to identify olive trees by their delicate pale green leaves, and promised one of my Aunts to photo some here! The next part of the trail was mostly a cobblestone path through the forest. The stones were slightly wet from the rain. In places, they built a bridge across shallow running water.

I stepped carefully and with my camera pointed.

I walked through a small medieval town, Filaterria, during another brief rain. The chapel was marked everywhere as a stop for the Via Francigena, and I enjoyed a shelter from the rain there.

The path led out of the town from the chapel directly into the woods. Boisterous voices in the distance signaled life in the city center on a Sunday.

Bamboo trees on the trail (like the ones that invaded my grandmother’s garden for years), then a horse farm where I took coffee from a tack room vending machine reminded me of home.

“Connet- i - gut”

When I finally arrived at Villafranca, the albergo owner, a man with white hair and dark rimmed glasses named Giancarlo,  took my passport as a matter of form and flipped to the front page for a short biography.

“You were born in Connet-i-gut”.

It’s true. And I was pretty sure even without seeing it written, that his name was Giancarlo.

At least, I remembered

“Gian-carl-ooooooo!”

Was the magic word the massive Italian smoking a cigar outside the hotel had yelled towards an open window to commence business hours when I arrived. For a terse minute before this, it was all locked doors, a blank look and my backpack.

I guess that’s how things are working here in Italy, and I was so glad. They offered me a nice room at a small price. The church in town had recommended them as the Via Francigena accommodation in this town,  smaller than than the others on the way.

The restaurant where dinner was served had a lot of life though, of it supplied by Giancarlo himself, who told jokes at every table and translated the German menu into English in no particular order. 

I had an Italian coffee to finish one of the most delicious meals yet and slept beautifully.

p o n t r e m o l i

today I restart my walking after a resting week in Italy. 

I chose Pontremoli to search for the famous labrinynth in the church. I found a different church at first, but it was beautiful.

I stayed in the home of a sculptor from Florence named Sylvia Fossati. This is her, her home, her oven for ceramics, and espresso machine

The city of Pontremoli is very charming, and a dinner party in the small midieval streets was happening yesterday.

f i r e n z e

“if you follow all the rules, you miss all the fun” - Katherine Hepburn

 ••

Yesterday, as the sun rose high and hot over a leisurely breakfast of two cappuccinobrioche, something very good happened.

Hier alors que le soleil était au zénith, mangeant mes brioches accompagnés d’un cappuccino, quelque chose de très bien est arrivé

 ••

The ping of an iPhone , which lies heavy in a pocket all day and night for moments like this!

Hier alors que le soleil était au zénith, mangeant mes brioches accompagnés d’un cappuccino, quelque chose de très bien est arrivé

•• 

An invitation to Florence!

Une invitation pour Florence!

•• 

As I noted in the board in the pilgrim accommodation, in Italy there are no less than three official Via Francigena paths.

Comme je l’ai écrit sur le livre d’or de l’auberge paroissiale, en Italie il n’y a pas moins de 3 chemins officiels via Francigena

•• 

I thought to make another.

J’ai imaginé en créer un autre.

So I did. 

Et je l’ai fait.

- s a n t a • c h r i s t i n a

Yesterday’s walk was a short one, from Bellagiogioso to Santa Christina. 

La marche d’hier était courte de Bellagiogioso à Santa Christina. 

•• 

The guidebooks will say this is the walk of one day, but I made it in two. 

Ce chemin peut être fait en une journée d’après le guide mais il m’a fallu 2 jours. 

•• 

 “Piano, Piano”

•• 

The woman at the Chevalier hotel saw I was sore in the morning and, as someone who has seen many pilgrims, gave me the advice to walk slowly.

La réceptionniste de l’hôtel Chevalier a remarqué que j’avais des douleurs, car elle a déjà croisé beaucoup de pèlerins, m’a conseillé de marcher doucement.

•• 

So I did.

Donc je l’ai fait.

•• 

When the dogs looked at me and barked, I stopped to look back.

Je me suis arrêtée à côté d’un chien qui aboyait pour le regarder, il avait les yeux vairons.

I admired the succulents growing in a stone wall. They weren’t for sale like the ones in New York.

Jai admiré de jolis cactus poussant sur un mur de pierre, ils n’étaient pas à vendre comme ceux a New York.

But this beautiful house around the corner was.

« vendesi »

Mais cette belle maison au coin de la rue l’était.

I considered making an offer on this lamborghini tractor, but it passed too fast.

J’ai voulu faire une offre pour acheter ce tracteur Lamborghini mais il est passé trop vite.

The blackberries growing along the rice field were free.

Les mûres poussant le long des rizières étaient gratuites.

I arrived at the Santa Christina cathedral. As I sat in the quiet, a mass of children shuffled in to recite prayers. I followed along. After this prayer, before I had a chance to find the Italian words to ask where the pilgrim accommodation was, the priest walked to the pew where I was sitting.

“Pellegrina?”

Je suis arrivée à l’église de Santa Christina. Je me suis assise dans le silence et un groupe d’enfant est entré pour réciter plusieurs prières. Après ces prières, un italien est venu me voir pour me demander si je souhaitais dormir à l’auberge paroissiale, en m’interpellant ainsi :

« Pellegrina ? »

•• 

The accommodation was right behind the church. I put my name in the guestbook with the day’s date behind three other, a couple walking to Rome from Marseilles and a cyclist from Switzerland.

L’auberge était  juste a cote de l’église, j’ai inscrit mon nom sur le registre ainsi que 3 autres pèlerins dont un couple de Marseille faisant le chemin depuis leur maison jusqu’à Rome aller retour et une cycliste Suisse.

With just a short day of walking, as recommended by the hotel in the Belagioso, I had time to watch a movie in the evening with the others.

We chose “Paris Can Wait” a film about taking one week to drive from Cannes to Paris, an 8- hour trip.

•• 

Avec une courte journée de marche comme on me l’a conseillé à l’hôtel de Belgioioso, j’ai eu le temps de regarder un film avec les autres pèlerins,

Nous avons choisi « Paris can Wait » un film à propos d’un voyage d’une semaine sur les petites routes entre Cannes et Paris, la où l’on peut ne mettre que 8h par autoroute.

p a v i a - b e l g i o i o s o

 “We will only understand the miracle of life fully when we allow the unexpected to happen.” - Paulo Coelho 

Yesterday saw 18 km of walking to just exit Pavia and enter Belgioioso. 

The day started late with a stroll through an open market in Pavia. 

At the heat of the day, I stopped into a small cafe for an hour or so to hide from the sun. I played pinball for the first time in my life. If you travel this way stop by Caffe 1450 in San Leonardo and try to beat my score - I made the “good earner” level.

I saw a graphic I really liked.

And a sunflower.

Some barking dogs 

pink flowers against a pink wall.

I walked through rice fields

And past a very old fiat tractor 

The pilgrim accomodation in Belgioso came with an extra precautionary instructions and without WiFi, so I opted for The Hotel Cavaliere in the city center. This also meant I could choose what to eat for dinner from the adjacent restaurant’s menu- a good risotto  flavored with lemon. 

p a v i a

 “I’m not a mind reader, but I’m reading the signs” - Miley Cyrus

 ••

I am writing from Pavia, where I am after a 150km leap across the rice fields to the ciy yesterday.

What happened? 

Well, I didn’t wake up with the plan to take a bus and a car to past all the good mosquito-y countryside, but in the morning I saw a few new signs. 

The first was, after sleeping on a very parochial pilgrim bunk bed, I felt very stiff, as I did before seeing the ortheo. Then I saw a message from the amazing harpist from Ireland who is walking to Rome from her home in Clonakilty. She was leaving Pavia today.. 

“Pavia, Pavia..”

Someone along the way had told me about Pavia and how it was the best hospital in Italy but I didn’t remember who.

Was it the pilgrim yesterday who had insisted if I still had pain the best idea was to see a real doctor instead of an ortheo at the spa?

I remembered very clearly his Italian sign language, two fingers tracing a square in the air to represent a diploma on the wall.

No, it was a separate conversation a day earlier. The waiter at the hotel in St. Vincent had told me that Pavia was the best hospital in Italy because it’s where his daughter studying to be a doctor hoped to do her residency. 

I took these three pieces of information and the discomfort I was experiencing I was not too proud to take a bus.

I arrived in Pavia and was seen quickly. The hospital really was first class. The X-rays concluded nothing was broken, and it was just a matter space between my discs I never felt before because I never walked 1,000km.

I felt really relieved to have an expert opinion and continued with confidence. 

That evening, as I walked through the city with mosquitos biting around every corner, I realized the value of also skipping a week of hardship through the hot rice fields. 

I had a really wonderful dinner with three other people I had met along the way; one an Italian nutritionist who studied in Pavia too and helped me order in Italian a very healthy and wholesome meal of salmon and fresh salad.

She had already done the Camino de Santiago twice, as had one of the others. Their stories really inspired me about this special way in Spain. 

And todo was tranquilo .