“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.
