Day 32 – Tuesday 30 July. Campagnano di Roma to La Giustiniana

Campagnano di Roma is an interesting little place. For us, I think we now sense that we’ve left the rustic and gentile parts (this side of Rome) behind. We can ‘feel’ Rome, both in the people and in how the approaching towns are presented.

But it is worthy to note that we struggled to get any useful sleep last night. Walking in summer was always going to present us with the challenge of hot nights and accommodation without adequate cooling mechanisms. Our apartment had neither air con or a fan. It didn’t have the useful insect netting over the windows either. So with windows firmly shut so we didn’t get eaten alive, we hermetically sealed ourselves in and started to sweat. We felt as if we’d wrapped ourselves in polythene for the night.

Once the alarm went off, we both had to have a cold shower before we could face the day. Then, in record time we were out the door and on our way. Today’s walk was a strategic one, as we are staying in a place that puts us a few km’s closer to Rome than the usual stopping point of La Storta.

Our first third of the trail was pretty enjoyable. A lovely dog kept us company for a bit. She wore a huge luggage tag on her collar. Clearly she wanders about, and like Paddington Bear needs to wear her home address at all times. She’s the friendliest pooch we’ve met on this trip. Unlike the snarlers we see regularly who take guarding properties extremely seriously. One such hooligan dog today showed his intent by gnawing on the wire of the fence separating him from our tasty limbs. He looked me dead in the eyes while baring his teeth and chomping on the wire!! He really needed to take a chill pill. We also walked amongst some cattle who were making a break for freedom. They didn’t get far, sadly, before Senor Farmer came tootling down the hill, blaring on the car horn to get them back to their unfenced grazing paddock. We both thoroughly enjoyed having their company for a few minutes, but wondered how many people might have been scared being in close proximity to their fantastically large horns.

Arriving in the town of Formello we were ready for a break. It is quite possibly the last pretty, clean town this side of Rome. The historic centre seemed devoid of people, but we got to see lots and lots of cats! Friendly, healthy felines who blessed me with smooches and left me feeling very happy to have met them.

Our final highlight of the day was coming across another waterfall. A man made one I think as it was used for the local mill. You hear the water and start scrambling around to see how you can get to it. Like alcoholics on the hunt for hidden booze! We practically raced down to the water and waded in. We both love the feeling of standing in the cool water. The relief, then the sighs, followed by the laughing. It’s something I will sorely miss when this adventure comes to an end.

On leaving Formello, the trail turns to custard. It’s not very pleasant, and when we took the opportunity to walk an alternate ‘scenic’ route we thought we would be getting something special. Nope. It was a total dud. And so bad that we had to scramble over a fence to walk across paddocks to avoid being torn to shreds by the overgrown brambles. Eventually you arrive into La Storta which is the stopping point for most folks. We stopped for a break but…what a mess this place turned out to be. Rubbish, everywhere. Spilling out of the massive collection bins and strewn alongside the road for miles. What a change from what we’ve experienced so far.

We were thrilled with our plan then, to walk a few more km’s down the road to La Giustiniana. We are in a resort for the night. We might even have a sleep in and start late, just to slow down our last day of walking here. We are both looking forward to getting our first glimpse of St Peter’s from Monte Mario Park. That will be our first real moment of ‘shit, we’ve done it’. Before we actually end up in the square in front of St Peter’s that is.

Day 31 – Monday 29 July. Monterosi to Campagnano di Roma

Our apartment in Monterosi was a 5 star affair. Air con, comfy bed and a cafe right next door. It is joyous to sleep in a bed that is designed to eliminate ‘roll together’. In that strange sublet situation in Capranica I felt as though I had to cling onto the edge of mattress, to avoid tumbling into the abyss. I was at risk of becoming stuck to the sweaty sleeping beast, responsible for creating the gravitational pull into the centre of the bed. Probably not awful in winter, but in summer, it’s icky.

A good sleep is the first commandment for pilgrims. The second is; ‘thou shall enjoy caffe and a sweet delight before walking’. To walk out of the apartment and directly into the cafe brought a stupid grin to our faces this morning.

Breakfast was followed by some casual walking. We didn’t know what the trail would deliver us today, given the torrential rain yesterday. What we found in the first half was a hardened packed surface on the gravel roads and a slighty misty sunrise. The dampness in the air coated the spiders webs allowing us to see them en masse in the vegetation lining the path. A cat had also left a gift. A rat. Not eaten, but badly butchered. And our murderous kitty left it’s victim conveniently smack bang in the middle of the path. Squeamish pilgrims might have lost their breakfast upon seeing it. But not us. On we trekked as we had Monte Gelato to get to.

The name suggests we were heading to a mountainous heap of ice cream goodness. In fact, we were on our way to a set of waterfalls. A place to put our feet. The road delivered us there before 9am. We had a good nosey around and waded into the water at different spots. It was a highlight and if it had been a little later in the day, (and hotter) a full immersion would have happened.

The trail leading to Campagnano di Roma is fairly unremarkable. There isn’t much in the way of visual distraction and the rain hadn’t hardened the path, instead it had formed puddles. Most we could wiggle around but one particularly huge puddle blocked our path. There was nothing we could do but wade right through the middle of it. I wondered how the shoe wearing brigade tackled it today. We imagined the dilemma they would inevitably grapple with. Eventually they would have no other choice but to take off their footwear and squelch their way across. Then they’d have to get their bums a bit muddy to put their shoes back on. Apart from a few bits of grit stuck between our feet and our sandals we were remarkably unhindered and able to keep trudging forward. Our Austrian friends missed walking this stage. But I would have loved to see them tackle that deep, beige puddle.

The lack of cafes along the way had us chatting about the dinner we’d had. Sundays can prove a bit tricky for finding places open. But we found a cafe/bar that had a sneaky hidden restaurant out the back. We ordered two cacio e pepe’s with truffle and egg and wondered what the egg component would be. Out came the dishes and on the top of the pasta was a slow cooked egg. The waiter advised us to mix the truffle and egg into the pasta. Then the magic happened. The best cacio e pepe ever. Powerfully flavoured with pecorino and the egg created a creaminess that allowed the truffle to blend with the pasta. If it is possible to be ‘moved’ by food. Then we were. It has become a dish we order regularly along with Tiramisu. And wherever you go, they will be different. Last night’s pasta was sublime and we are looking forward to seeing what Rome does with their interpretation of the dish, given it is a classic Roman favourite.

Arriving into Campagnano though, we had the last obligatory climb, and what a doozy it is! At the top you have to take a little breather so as not to alarm the locals who may assume you are having a near fatal asthma attack. We stopped in at the first elephant graveyard we could find and devoured an ice block and a drink. Feeling recharged we slowly wandered the town until it was time to check into our room. While waiting outside for our host and the keys, we were wondering how we had picked this place. It screamed ‘depressed’ and dare I say ‘slum’ like. But we should know by now that Italian houses are an enigma. From the outside you can be excused for assuming they are shabby or even decaying. But once through the doorway and up the stairs you frequently find a light, airy and modern living space. You simply can’t judge these books by their covers.

We are actually now in the Metropolitan area of Rome. It feels very strange to think that we have only two days left on this trail. We’re feeling a touch sad as we are not ready for our via to come to an end.

Day 30 – Sunday 28 July. Capranica to Monterosi

The scene for today was set last night. As we struggled to get to sleep cos the air con was noisy. But without it going we got hot, and…it was a Saturday night…which meant an evening on the tiles for the locals.

The partying came to a quick end when the thunder started. We just about leapt out of our skin. Right above us the thunder cracked and rolled. It is how I’d imagine being in fairly close proximity to a bomb going off. Loud doesn’t quite express how enveloping the sound is. And then the rain started to fall, hard and heavy. Through half shut eyes we both silently hoped it would rain itself out while we tried to sleep.

At ‘get up o’clock’ we knew the rain was still falling but in a much more sedate way. By the time we left our apartment (a very strange place to stay) we had our rain jackets on and thought we’d missed the worst of the weather. Another Italian hill loomed ahead of us. Heads down so as not to see how far we had to climb, we trudged up it. At the top we decided we would rather get ‘rain wet’ than be simmering inside our jackets. Once stripped off we found ourselves getting deeper into a bush setting. It was nice. At the beginning. Then it felt very close, with brambles scratching at our feet and ankles and the rain heavy branches making it hard going as we stooped to get under them.

The thunder and lightening revisited us about an hour in. Thunder booming over your head when you are in thick bush with a treacherously slippery path to negotiate is well, what some nightmares are made of. The rain began to fall with every intent of soaking us completely. In fact we were now so wet, it was not worth the effort to put our jackets back on. On and on we slogged. The trail presented some rather tricky obstacles in stream crossings that had to be done by inching over wet slippery logs. The stream which yesterday would have been clear and gently trickling was now flowing like the Mekong Delta.

Of course there were no rest breaks during this torrent from above. We focussed on arriving in Sutri and deciding what next once we had the chance to strip off and wring out our clothes. Eventually Sutri appeared ahead of us. The Via signs pointed us right, and the road went left, which looked as though it would lead directly into town. Mal suggested we keep following the trail. Which now was a fast flowing stream of water. You couldn’t see what your feet were going to land on, you just had to walk on relying on trust. I kept thinking, we should have taken the road…and I was right. The trail was a really dumb idea but by the time we were so far along it, we just had to keep going. It eventually delivered us back out to the road, past Sutri. So we walked back into town. Two bedraggled, wetter than wet urchins slipped under the awning of the closest bar. The few people at the cafe probably couldn’t believe what they were seeing. Why on earth would you walk in a thunder storm? Sage question, and something we discussed for the next half an hour as we got changed, enjoyed a couple of coffees and a doughnut.

Consulting our app we could see the trail to Monterosi was over farmland. Which now would be so soggy it would make for a very slow walk for the next 12km. Or, we could take the road. We were erring to the road option when we left the bar, only to bump into one of our Austrian comrades. They were catching the bus to their next stop. They were not silly enough to walk in a storm. Mal and I quickly agreed that we needed to focus on safety first…we would ride the bus too. And as we watched the road fly by, we realised there was no shoulder to speak of on the road. We would have been a road hazard walking along it. Sometimes it is hard to see the common sense thing to do when you want to be walking. You can easily take risks you wouldn’t even contemplate at home. How silly of us. We were extremely lucky to get to Sutri with no mishaps. Something for us to think about.

And, on reflection I wonder if our apartment last night contributed to this strange day we’ve had. Getting access proved a little more complex than necessary, and once we were inside, it was like stepping into someone’s home. It wasn’t really accommodation set up for travellers. It is a lived in home, where the bathroom, kitchen and lounge has the occupants stuff everywhere. We wondered if we were in a sub letting situation. It felt odd to say the least.

Given our day of drenching, we had to put our phones deep into our packs. Only one photo was taken as we left Capranica, through the back door as usual…slinking out like thieves in the night!

Day 29 – Saturday 27 July. Vetralla to Capranica

Today we had the wind. The meteorological type, not the variety that can turn you into a social pariah in the wrong circumstances.

Our breeze of late has felt as though it has come from leaving the oven door open. Today, it was more than the odd hot baking puff, it was positively brisk, cool and refreshing. It also helped that the temperature had dropped by ten degrees. This really made today’s journey a very pleasant one.

Last night we stayed at an agriturismo. A working farm that produces vegetables and olive oil. Our hostess collected us from the centre of Vetralla and ferried us out to her home. While we waited for her, I was wondering what she would make of these slightly sweaty pelligrini who were overly keen to throw their packs and poles into her late model European car. I needn’t of worried. The interior of her slightly battered Toyota was dustier than us. Mal struggled to get into the back seat alongside me, and as he had to sit at an awkward angle to fold his legs and body into the car, he looked like a lady of high breeding riding side saddle. We were soon at home base for the night and settled into our routine. Shower and a rest. Dinner was going to be at the early time of 8:30pm. When it was suggested that dining would be at 9:30, we clearly looked dispirited. We’d like to be asleep by then, we said. So our wonderfully considerate hostess brought eating forward an hour.

What a feast she put on for us…by candlelight we were served bruschetta with tomatoes and olive oil, cheese, prosciutto and preserves, pasta, grilled vegetables in fennel flour and a desert. All made with produce from their farm, and the cheese came from the folks next door. What a truly memorable experience.

It was a difficult night’s sleep however. We were not able to get cool enough to drift into a restful dream state. But as morning arrived we could feel the change in the air. Rain is forecast for tomorrow and it seems that the cold front today brought us our lovely walking climate.

Under these good conditions, we made fairly short work of today’s distance. The trail was easy going and we thoroughly enjoyed the expansive hazelnut grove we got to wander through. In fact, we were totally surrounded by trees from start to finish today. There was no other produce being grown other than olives and the odd grape vine to keep company with all those hazelnuts. Which is why we laughed when a tractor forced us off the track and had potatoes spread out on the trailer behind. Mal quickly riffed off…”Po-ta-toes! Boil them, mash them, stick them in a stew.” “What’s tater’s, precious?” I replied in my best Gollum. Crazy time had set in, and the wandering hobos were clearly loosing their minds.

A little further on, and not far from Capranica our Austrian chaps staged an over taking manoeuvre. They had Capranica in their sights for a rest stop. They still had a few more kilometers to do before they were calling it day. So we politely allowed them to pass…”Hello New Zealand!” they shouted as they went by, “Hello Austria” we replied, all of us grinning from ear to ear. We don’t really know each other, but this is a typical conversation for walkers who casually bump into each other. Like ships in the night, we share an easy smile, and a few words.

The approach into this town is nothing to rave about. Socialist housing blocks and even a poor dead cat by the side of the road. Our Sloways app calls Capranica a ‘pretty little town’ and I was starting to think the person writing about these places is delusional. The housing situation started to improve and by the time we found a cafe we were not disappointed with our decision to stay the night.

We’ve already had a late lunch and enjoyed the vibrant environment of a local trattoria. It’s unlikely any dinner will be had as we both are keen to catch up on some lost sleep. I wonder if it really will rain tomorrow?

Day 28 – Friday 26 July. Viterbo to Vetralla

We can now confidently state that Lazio is hotter than Tuscany. Our mornings are no longer blessed by the coolness we once enjoyed in the hilly prettiness north of here. We are now walking in hot conditions from about 8am. It is a draining experience made even more tiring when the days trail has little shade.

We did enjoy three interesting interludes today along with an encounter that left me speechless. Interlude #1, began within minutes of us leaving our apartment in Viterbo. Following the Via signs we were walking along the footpath when a car pulled up and the gent driving started fast talking in Italian and we had no hope of picking out any words. He pulled into a spot to park properly and pointed to the Via Francigena sticker on his car window. We eventually figured out that we were heading in the wrong direction. The Master of Maps was at it again! Leading us astray before we were even out of the city gates. To be fair, the stickers and signs we are meant to be able to trust can be confusing. So, we were put back on the right path and saw our chap again as we swung around by the cathedral. He was busying himself sweeping the steps, and no doubt looking out for his hapless pilgrims. He asked if we’d like a stamp for our credentials and we leapt to a ‘yes please!’ This would be our first from an actual church. Following behind our kindly chap, he led us into the cathedral and eventually inside the office. Goodness me! The cathedral is Romanesque, sparsely decorated, but in the sanctum where ordained folks and step sweepers work, you are suddenly struck by the painted dome in bright yellow with the popular star motif. It was like walking into a minimalist home only to find the owner has a lavishly decorated room, hidden away behind a locked door. Our navigational helper stamped our credentials and gave us a handrawn map on how to make our way onto the ‘fast’ path towards Vetralla.

Soon we were enjoying Interlude #2. Walking through what initially seemed to be a cutting through a hill to make a road, we slowly discovered we were actually walking an ancient natural divide. It was eerie, but also rather intriguing. Sadly it didn’t shelter us all the way to Vetralla and we were shortly back out into the sun to wander the very dusty volcanic path. There were few opportunities to take a break, but we decided eventually that we just had to find a shady enough spot off the road to have a rest. Once a suitable place was found we relaxed and lay down…feet up on our packs. Sauntering up to us was a fellow pilgrim. As he got closer we could see he was a sprightly older gent. He stopped and we established that we weren’t going to get far with chatting, as he’s French and speaks very little English. About as much as we speak French. But…it became clear that he was being…odd. Another French chap caught up with him and they chatted for a bit about being off the path they were meant to take. Frenchman number two spoke some English and was filling us in on the conversation. That’s when our older gent said ‘the Via is too hard for women to walk’ and then seemed doubtful that I had traipsed through Tuscany, as ‘it’s very difficult’, indicating with hand gestures the steep up and down landscape. I was going off him fast. Then with his interpreting colleague, we were told he thought I was in ‘good shape’…with a reference to my chest. Good Lord. Mal was now miffed to be in the company of a misogynist perv, and we were relieved when they headed off. I was dumbstruck. And indignant. Surely he’s met plenty of women walking this camino…what a fool he is, and no wonder he’s usually walking alone.

Interlude #3 came in the nick of time, shortly before we arrived in Vetralla. We were now two slow plodding, hot and bothered beasts. We’d seen a water channel to the left of the road and Mal was hopeful that this would mean a decent foot bathing spot up ahead. He was right…a magnificent set of pools appeared beside the track and we just about ran to get our feet into them. Packs off and poles dropped, we were quickly sitting on the edge of the pool, and ‘sploosh’…in go our feet, sandals and all. An array of swear words declared our relief. It’s the most blissful feeling. Hot feet into incredibly cold water. We sat there till our feet were numb. Feeling refreshed by our watery gift, we were back walking, with our now clean feet and only a further 20 minutes before hitting a cafe for a cold drink and something to eat. Our trio of Austrians had also picked the first cafe in town to end their days walking, and so we joined them. Finishing is fantastic. The agony and the ecstasy.

PS – we have flaky WiFi tonight and 3G simply can’t handle what we are asking of it. If our pics don’t load, we’ll update this post tomorrow.

Day 27 – Thursday 25 July. Montefiascone to Viterbo

We slept like babies.

But before that, we went out for dinner, at a place where we could get our last views of Lago di Bolsena. The restaurant was a recommendation from our abrupt, curt and almost snarling hotel receptionist. She reminded me of a Russian spy. Not very good at being undercover though, as she was the antithesis of feminine seduction and was unreasonably furtive when we asked for the return of our passports. Let’s now call her Ivanka…

Ivanka went to extraordinary lengths to explain how we must exit the building in the morning, and seemed most suspicious of us going before 7am. Before we were dismissed from her presence, Ivanka provided her recommended dining establishment, should we feel the need for food after 7pm. We followed her suggestion and trotted down to eat at 7:30.

The views over the lake were pretty and the sunset was so striking, all the diners were taking photos. When our shared caprese came out, we were a bit surprised as the chef had plated almost entirely green tomatoes. That’s weird, we said to each other, as pomodoros are plentiful in the ripe and red category…and then, before we had even finished, the waiter was almost sprinting to our table with our next dishes. In the time we’ve been here, we have not once experienced such eager and prompt service. I would go so far as to say, that service is so relaxed you get the chance to become hungry again, between courses. Sadly, our pasta dishes weren’t a ‘wow’ either. So cutting our loses, we decided against desert and headed back to our room. Ivanka was still the dictator of the reception desk, and the faintest of hello’s was heard as we passed by. What are we to make of Montefiascone? Well…the hotel has air con. And air con means a good sleep – and that’s exactly what we got.

We felt so good this morning, after our deep sleep that when the packs were slung on, we were more than ready to go. Exiting Montefiascone (following Ivanka’s instructions to the letter) required us to labour up towards the church and climb a bunch of steps…so within a couple of minutes we were already getting our puff on. Then, it was downhill…and we are always amazed that our knees don’t hurt!

Before long we were walking on the antica cassia. The ancient Roman road which was constructed around 194 BC. It still provides a comfortable path for feet, which is amazing. So after the tiredness of yesterday, we absolutely enjoyed our walking today. And it was made super pleasurable as we were heading straight to the thermal pools to relax in the mineral water at Bagnaccio. When we arrived, we realised that we were mingling with the fashionable retirees of Viterbo. What a life! These tanned and relaxed folks clearly make coming to the thermal pools a regular gig. They gossip and lounge about and after that gets tiring they head off for a ciggie or switch to sitting in a hotter pool. It’s a popular place, and the ladies greet each other with a raucous ‘Ciao Bella!!’ It’s a beautiful thing to be a part of, but we needed to get back on the road as Viterbo was calling and the temperature was climbing fast.

We could see from the trail that Viterbo is huge, and on arriving we agreed that it’s a rather interesting place. Again, it’s a city we hadn’t really heard of, and we’re not seeing any obvious evidence of tourists here. We let our feet lead us to a suitable cafe for a relaxing cold drink, and it wasn’t long before three Austrian pellegrinos decided to take a break at a table beside us. They have been following us for four days. We have usually been leaving cafes just as they arrive. But today we got to chatting and enjoyed their company. Mal is particularly taken by one of the chaps who has an enormous moustache that seems to naturally curl up at the ends. It does look spectacular, and his black Harry Potter specs completes the look nicely. I suspect we will see them every day now, and it would be cool to provide applause if we see them arriving at St Peter’s just after us.

Photos include the sunset from last night, looking over the lake, and our sunrise this morning. Mal with the pilgrim sculpture at Montefiascone and lounging in the pool at Bagnaccio.

Day 26 – Wednesday 24 July. Bolsena to Montefiascone

Montefiascone was always referred to as Monty-fiasco while we planned this trip. Because we gave it a nickname, it ended up being a place we were keen to get to. How strange then, to arrive and find that it’s…unremarkable (except for southside views of the lake). From a distance it looks great. The cathedral dome is a beacon, it guides you through the last few kilometers, with all your expectations still intact. You cut through the urban sprawl that sits down the hill, bracing yourself for the final climb. A skull and crossbones intersection separates you from entering under the arch, so you just have to brave it and dash.

I say dash, but at the end of a hot day’s walking it’s more comedic hobbling than athletic striding. A Ministry of Funny Walks. That fits, because we do walk strangely both at the end of the day and when getting up after resting. So under the arch we go, and into the street. They are wide and not as cool as you’d expect. The sun today has reached crematorium levels and so we slinked along the narrow band of shade heading for the piazza. All the while thinking…’Is this it?’ Once again, totally spoiled by our previous town – and now this one just doesn’t excite.

Our hotel appeared before we even made it into the centre of town so we took our chances and went in to see if we could book in a little early. Yes, thank goodness, we could. So up the stairs we went, to play out the same routine. Crash out, shower, lie down and talk about where food is going to come from.

We are tired.

Today though, our path took us through a rather lovely forest. We also traipsed over some private land belonging to an Agriturismo. Their passive aggressive signs at the entry and exit points were surprising, as was the blocking of the trail which caused us to have to squeeze around their metal contraption. They clearly hate bike riders and forbid the use of anything but feet to cross their land. They also had signs to warn us of some very terrifying dogs. So Mal and I let four pilgrims walk ahead of us. We figured the dogs would be satisfied chomping through them and we’d get to scramble over the bones while the monstrous canines slept off their feast.

We walked slowly today. Reflecting on Bolsena and how we would have loved to stay longer. As we left town this morning I stopped at a shop window advertising real estate. A couple of properties took our eye. And you get to thinking about the possibilities…

We also got the chance to hang around at a waterfall. We climbed down to the water and I put my feet in. We now take every opportunity to dip our feet into cold water. It’s such a satisfying feeling and you can’t help but sigh out loud. Our slow pace and frequent stopping is how we’ll get to arrive in Rome. Other walkers are also taking it slowly. There is no rush, and we are all bone tired. The smiles we share to greet other resting pilgrims at bar and cafe stops, transmits the collective understanding that step by step we’ll soon find ourselves outside St Peter’s. Then, we’ll stop and rest our tired bodies for a bit.

Day 25 – Tuesday 23 July. Acquapendente to Bolsena

We trundled out of Acquapendente shortly after six. Our room wasn’t such a delight that we felt the need to delay our departure. In fact I’d commented that it felt like a space a person might rent by the hour for work purposes. If you get my drift.

Coffee was needed as we knew we would see no other sign of bar life until halfway to our destination. We’d seen the downcast side of Acquapendente coming in from the northern end and got to enjoy a much more upbeat part of the city exiting via the south. It’s curious sometimes how cities develop. And this one seems to want to have its shiny face pointing towards Roma.

Our suntanned faces are also Roma bound. So once on the trail we knuckled down. San Lorenzo Nuovo seemed to arrive fairly quickly, and that meant breakfast. It didn’t take too long before another three pellegrinos arrived with breakfast on their minds too. After a decent break off our feet, we were back at it again. And that is when we got our first view of the lake – Lago di Bolsena. Freaking heck. It is a grand sight, and with it being 30 degrees at 9am, you start to lust after the thought of jumping in the water.

The trail today had some bloody brilliant parts to it, including a forest path which had us jogging with joy. We were in our happy place. Feeling like we were having the greatest adventure of our lives and we were most certainly not going to become grown ups. We took every opportunity to wet our feet under cold water with the drinking fountains and once we arrived on the outskirts of Bolsena we sat on a water bath thing and plunged our legs in. The cool water worked it’s magic on our feet and gave us the chance to give our feet and sandals a wash. We may not be grown ups, but we do like to keep our feet relatively clean! We squelched off to hunt out more food and a cold drink before checking into the VesConte Residenza D’epoca dal 1533. You should google it. It’s amazing.

We have been down to the lake for swim…which was our motivation for walking the last 10kms today. This place is amazing. Another incredible destination that I previously had never heard of. So in saying goodbye to Tuscany and thinking we might never see anything as breathtakingly beautiful again, we have been welcomed to this treasure. I have the feeling that we are going to have a brilliant time walking these post-Tuscan stages to Rome!

Day 24 – Monday 22 July. Radicofani to Acquapendente

This morning we were a divided camp. I wanted to bus to Acquapendente, Mal wanted to walk. We compromised. And I walked. I must have missed the lessons on how compromising in a marriage is meant to work.

This is another stage that gets mixed reviews. Mostly because of a 5km stretch where pilgrims must run the gauntlet of Italian drivers. In the main we have found cars not terribly terrifying. But having said that, a few days ago an old guy in an ancient little Fiat came hurtling down a hill ahead of us, swerved on to the road and continued to fish tail towards us. Senor managed to gain control of his vehicle and whizzed by us as we let out a collective sigh of relief. We got neither a wink nor a nod from the driver, to congratulate us on our bravery. Perhaps he genuinely didn’t see us. By the way he drove it would not surprise me to learn that he is in fact legally blind. Any hoo, on the back of that experience Mal decided we’d face the threat of mortal injury and take to the road again today.

In spite of my inauspicious start to the day, it has gone remarkably well. It’s still as hot as Hades, but we found adequate rest places and bars along the trail which kept our spirits and energy up.

At a bar we found in the morning, we were tickled to see two older gents come in and order a glass of red wine and a sandwich each. An odd breakfast choice, and they also sat in complete silence. No small talk, nothing. A complete 180 on the other chaps in bars we see, who do rather gabble on. Quite frequently they will all be talking simultaneously. Like a geriatric flash mob with verbal diarrhoea.

At some point along the trail, Lady Gaga came to mind and I starting singing ‘Bad Romance’…then said to Mal, ‘I think today’s blog may have that as it’s title.’ He was less than impressed. But having recalled my earlier ‘compromise’, I was able to state that his disagreement was noted, but I’d use it anyway. A compromise each, which sounds fair.

At some time before midday we crossed from Toscana into Lazio. The countryside is changing but we didn’t seem to mind that so much today. Our love must be a fickle thing if we are already turning our hearts away from Tuscany and towards Rome. We are about 170km away.

And that 5km stretch of road that gets written about in various degrees of panic and alarm? It’s dicey, that’s for sure. The road surface is not that flash and there is vegetation on the shoulder making it challenging for walkers to get out of the way of enormous trucks. We navigated it without incident though, but I wouldn’t recommend it for anyone who is a touch nervy with being in close proximity to large, fast moving vehicles.

Acquapendente is not really visible from the trail, unlike most of the hilltop towns and cities we’ve been walking to. Pilgrims are directed to take an unusual path into the town, it smells a bit funky and you can’t trust the handrails for the overly deep steps. We felt like travelling lepers, sneaking in the back entrance. And, of course, the last incline is tough. Even the bitumen has given up, and is slowly sliding back down the hill. But today we finished strongly. Most certainly not on the ropes like yesterday. Which is good for our spirits. It would be soul destroying if the trail got to beat you down everyday.

Our initial impression of Acquapendente is that it is in significant decline. So many buildings for sale, and it just looks like it is struggling. There are some quirky arty bits to the town which I find interesting though. We’ve found our way to our room for the night…a first, as we are staying above a restaurant. Wonder what we’ll think of it as we get underway tomorrow…

Day 23 – Sunday 21 July. Castiglione d’Orcia to Radicofani

We have had one of those days. I don’t want to think, let alone write about it.

We have fallen in love with Tuscany and today it felt like we were thrown out, to see the darker, harder more sordid outer reaches of this region. This was a day of walking through Mordor, not Tuscany.

Castiglione remains crowned as the prettiest town we’ve seen. And the walk we undertook today gets a 0/10. Would not walk again. We’d read mixed reviews of this stage. There are seriously held concerns relating to shepherd dogs, who are aggressive when encountered on the trail as it crosses farmland. Some folks recommend taking a bus to skip this stage. I can see why, now.

For us, it wasn’t aggressive dogs, but seriously antisocial, molesting flies. We suffered them for miles. You simply can’t walk with trekking poles while flailing your arms about to discourage them landing on you. At one stage Mal had about three dozen sitting on his pack, his arms and floating around his head. I took up self-flagellation. Using my neon orange microfibre towel I just kept up a monotonous rhythm of flicking it over my shoulders. It was an effective technique, but tiring as it meant walking without the aid of my poles. But I could not stomach having flies land on me, and treat me like a human Uber. And they weren’t just flies. They were eff’ing flies.

Once off the farmland it seemed as though the fly situation was abating. A few hardy beasts tried to hang on, but eventually, they were gone. We’d walked faster than usual trying to flee the winged demons and by the time we could stop, we were feeling tired.

After a rest, sitting in the shade, and on a dusty road, we shook ourselves off and headed off again. We had about 13kms to go. I thought the worst was over now that we shirked off the flies. How pre-emptive of me.

The awfulness of this stage kind of creeps up on you. Walking with our heads down, to pay attention to where our feet were going, you stop looking around. The countryside is fairly unremarkable though after walking through primo Toscana. Then the reality of the very long, hot, hard slog upwards bites. For 12.5kms you have to find the energy to propel yourself forwards. It’s just a bit shit.

As we reached Radicofani, the pavement greeted us. We weren’t going to climb the last few hundred or so metres without a lie down. Packs off, and two shattered pilgrims lay down on the cobblestones. We couldn’t care less what people might think!

The approach to this town is lovely…if you drive into it. And the reported spectacular views are worth the acclaim they’ve garnered. Mordor, I mean Toscana spreads out as far as the eye can see.

Today is still too raw to be totally balanced about it. And there were moments of pleasure today…standing in the cool stream for a couple of minutes to ease our feet, sitting outside a house where the American lady owner provides cold water in a container for thirsty walkers and our sunrise this morning. That was beautiful!

Tomorrow, we have a largely flat terrain to cover. Once again the guide app tells us it’s a nice walk. God knows what it’s really like!

Day 22 – Saturday 20 July. San Quirico d’Orcia to Castiglione d’Orcia

Waking up without the need for an alarm is one of life’s pleasures. Today wasn’t a rest day, but the next best thing. We only needed to cover a relatively short distance today so we took full advance of a late start. A little bit of breakfast at the main hotel then a leisurely stroll to put us on the path to Castiglione d’Orcia.

We planned to stop in Bagno Vignoni, but before you get there, the little hamlet of Alto Vignoni is reached. And what a beauty she is. We stopped in at the church. Sat on a pew and let the silence wrap itself around us. The priest was in civvies working on something at the side of the altar and seemed happy to allow me refuge even though I was not dressed appropriately. Shorts are really a no no, and I appreciated him giving me a pass on this occasion. Shortly before we left, our priest set about spraying liberal amounts of insecticide…we guessed he has an ant problem. Then, as we shrugged on our packs he started playing the most wonderful music that seemed to follow us as we set off down the path. We both remarked at the same time, ‘I could live here.’ Snap.

The trail leads you down into Bagno Vignoni. Another stunner! Instead of a central Piazza this town has a thermal pool. Genius. We stopped and enjoyed a cold drink and pondered – how is it that this area is so incredibly beautiful? Words start to fail you. I also wonder if this place is on the map for folks coming to Tuscany. There were very few tourists seen and when we set about our climb up to Castiglione, we saw no one.

This section of the Via is a definite ‘don’t miss’ for us. And although we are slightly off the trail (as the path skirts this town), I think other walkers would love stopping in here. The views alone make it worthwhile. The road climb is a goodie, extremely steep, and perhaps very painful if you have dickie knees when you have to go back down again. With effort comes reward, not just the views, but lunch 😊. A cute enoteca, empty but inviting was our choice as we stepped into the town. Cold drinks first, as the sweat poured out of us, then something to eat. Food, hard earned is another of life’s pleasures.

This short day of walking has been a complete delight. Magical in fact, and has us thinking about our next trip. We’d like to cycle next time, so as we fall desperately in love with Tuscany we are plotting when we might see her again. Sadly we have only a couple more days in this region before we enter Lazio.

Day 21 – Friday 19 July. Buonconvento to San Quirico d’Orcia

Having been upgraded to a studio space in Buonconvento we had started to nurture happy thoughts that a very good sleep might be acquired. The room was quaint and interesting, once you finished climbing the stairs to get to it. Sweet sleep grabbed us rather quickly and we woke to the sound of my alarm. Wow. We felt great! We packed ourselves up and enjoyed a coffee from the machine in our room as we didn’t think we’d being seeing a cafe till later in the day. We dropped the key in the box and left. And walked straight into an open cafe. Good Lord! What luck. As we enjoyed our drinks I looked at a Ducati parked in front of us. ‘Perhaps we should be doing the rest of the Via on one of those? Do you want me to take a photo of it?’ I asked Mal. Reaching for my bag to take out my phone, I quickly realised it wasn’t there. Oh no!! I must have left in the room!! Luckily for me, the key was easily accessible to get back in and retrieve my precious device. It would have been truly awful to get miles down the track and realise my mistake.

Our walking days are now very predictable. Fantastic morning conditions give us 3-4 hours of excellent walking, then the afternoon becomes a bit of a slog. Exactly what happened today. The first third of the trail took us through spectacular vineyard country. We were having fun, our feet felt great and the scenery fulfilled our dreams of what it would be like to walk in Tuscany. Our hearts were full.

The path today was also hilly, up and down and up again, and our legs were loving it. We took a decent break in a wee town called Torrenieri. While there with our shoes off and feet up, four carabinieri turned up. Not at the same time, but they were cruising in pairs. The Italian uniform is something to behold. Jodhpurs, long boots, shirts with an eclectic arrangement of ornaments dangling from them and of course a handgun on the hip. Mal mentioned that to see so many police in a small town, it must be a dangerous place to live. He was joking of course, but I suggested we get out fast while we still could.

We were pretty quickly belched out onto tarmac to climb a very long hill. Shade was to the right of the road, but ‘play by the rules’ Mal, required us to walk on the left. This is so we can see the cars that try to collide with us. I would rather hear them coming…and keep cool. But I obeyed. And sweated my way up that long road. Looking at the shade on the other side.

It really was hot today, and by the colour of my skin I can say we saw too much sun. What we also saw too much of were roadsigns purporting the distance to the next town – only they really do seem to be telling lies. You walk and walk and the next sign says you still have the same distance to go. How does that work? I was almost ready to throw my toys out of the cot…but into view came the porta to enter San Quirico. So beautiful, and my mood stabilised. We still had stairs to climb to get into the main part of the town, but you start to excuse these final acts of torture as you feast your eyes on yet another gorgeous place.

We settled into our room (forty steps up, for this one), showered and washed our clothes and I said to Mal, ‘I want to go to the post office’. I’m now fascinated by them, and this towns one is really close to us. Down we wander, and in we go. I tell the guy – non molto parliamo Italiano – and he proceeds to smile. We liked him immediately. What followed was a bit of sign language and we walked away with a cardboard box. We returned 10 minutes later having filled it with some gear. My postman friend taped it, dealt with the address to send it to, and told me it would be on its way to Spain on Monday. That man alone makes me want to live here. He was extraordinarily helpful and even though we couldn’t chat much I hope our appreciation was felt.

Day 20 – Thursday 18 July. Siena to Buonconvento

Socrates knew a thing or two. We are completely knackered. Everything hurts, but especially our feet. They carried us a bit over 30kms today and now they are yelling, ‘enough!!’

Our guide book app thing said this about today – ‘If you undertake this itinerary on a sunny day, it can be unforgettable thanks to unlimited views visible from the crests of Val d’Arbia, following never ending white streets.’ We had thought the distance we’d be covering would provide us with a magical experience that would make both time and miles fly by.

Our romantic nonsense was dispelled by about 11am. Today was sunny, and yep for the first part of the day, the views were incredibly lovely. But this stage is more like the Spanish Meseta, and without adequate shade, places to rest or bars to provide refreshments…it is challenging. Or as I read somewhere else ‘strenuous’. We added a few more km’s to this stage and finished in Buonconvento instead of Ponte d’Arbia. And those additional miles took it out of us. By the time we dragged our sorry carcasses to the door of our accommodation we took one look at the stairs and had to draw breath. This is a special torture for crazy people who walk for ‘fun’. Thirty steep stone steps enclosed in a dark narrow stairwell. You can’t see where you are going, and the pack on your back threatens to topple you over and send you falling back down to the bottom. Once the stairs were beaten, I could barely raise a smile for the poor lady who checked us into our room. I needed her to get a move on with the process so we could both unceremoniously collapse on the bed.

But, let’s go back to how our day started. Leaving Siena takes a while. The city is fairly expansive and even when we’d passed through the impressive arches and out of the main part of Siena, we still travelled quite some distance on asphalt before we felt we were leaving her behind. She is a beautiful place, and very worthy of spending additional days in.

A hot air balloon was a captivating sight as we soaked in the morning coolness. Then, we switched direction a bit and found our way to those ‘never-ending white streets’. They are in reality, fine gravel dirt roads. And they do go on. To the point that you start begging for something different. Like a soft forest path, shady and cool. And so that became our day…a pathway that stopped being romantic and interesting by about 11am and became our Meseta madness.

So today was a tougher one than we had expected. And by dinner o’clock our criteria for a restaurant was ‘the closest one’. Not 20 metres from our room a place of dining was found. It looked a bit past it. Shabby and empty. Maybe we would get a side of tummy trouble with our pasta…but once the food came out…stunning! Two cacio e pepe’s, salad and fagioli beans in olive oil, garlic, sage and rosemary. We had worked for this meal and it was so delicious. Our maitre’d even gave us a run down on the photos adorning the walls. His familigia, and a special set of pics from when Ted Kennedy called in, in 2006. What a delight!

Before we close our eyes tonight we will be throwing back some vitamin ‘I’. We’ve got thirteen more days without a break to get us to Rome…and we need help in the form of anti inflammatories. If only our fickle endorphins would do a bit more heavy lifting.

Day 19 – Wednesday 17 July. Rest day in Siena

Siena’s steep streets and vibrant ambience have kept us exercised and engaged. The open spaces here help to accommodate tourists and gawpers, and keeps the claustrophobia at bay.

Our sleep in this morning felt overdue. The air con did it’s job extremely well and the peepers didn’t come open until after 7am. When I’m well rested I wake up like an energiser bunny. Poor Mal. I’m chortling away at stupid things and all he wants is a bit of peace.

We kicked off with our usual coffee and shared a bomboloni alla crema. A doughnut, filled with pastry cream. Breakfast of champions! You couldn’t eat like this everyday -it screams ‘diabetes’…but it is particularly delicious.

A bit of aimless wandering followed, to get our bearings and decide whether to go into the museo or the Duomo. The Duomo won. Once inside, you have to be prepared to be over stimulated. Everything, is too much. From the art to the sculptures to the architecture. You look up to the incredible ceiling, and down to the amazing floor – you just simply can’t take it all in. You also start to feel weird taking a gazillion photos…I think we will buy a book when we get home. Because, without understanding what each element means, you are just looking at ‘stuff’. Plus, being in the midst of my version of tourist hell doesn’t bode well. Mal gets a bit niggly too, but for different reasons. You love being able to see these wonders with your own eyes, but at the same time you want to beat your retreat and find refuge somewhere quieter (where there is wine list, huh Mal!).

Places of spiritual expression, aka churches, cathedrals and duomi are definitely interesting. What I find inexplicable though, is that sometimes I can enter a church and immediately burst into tears. There is an overwhelming emotion that gushes forward. I’ve stopped trying to figure out why that happens, but I’m also aware that it is most unlikely to happen when I’m in an elaborate, over the top, ornate place of worship. The stripped back, simple buildings seem much more inviting and evocative of contemplation.

After the Duomo, we braved the Italian ‘post office’ again. Siena’s one looks like a train station. We took our number then waited for it to be flashed up on the big screen. It’s like a Le Mans start, you can’t dally or the staff at the counter push a button and the next number is called. Miss a turn, go back to ‘start’ and roll again! The absolute worst kind of human ‘snakes and ladders’ game.

If you have an hour to kill, I can recommend trying to send postcards home. That’ll kill an hour, easy. In fact, we ‘broke’ the Italian postal service today as they couldn’t find the right stamps for our postcards. Our original chap at the counter, didn’t seem to have the correct stamps in his blue dog eared manilla folder, so he passed us off to his neighbour. She had to fossick about for the elusive stamps too, all the while referring to a little scrap of paper that had the cost for mailing to ‘Oceania’. Good grief. We are so bemused by these archaic systems and processes, and you just have to be patient. But…I now totally get the saying – going ‘postal’.

We’ve also gone a bit mad on shopping. I’ve picked up two colourful cotton dresses and a Venetian glass bracelet. We also went into a perfume shop. Not a bad idea, but certainly a costly one. We got to enjoy smelling some of the most beautiful perfumes, and learnt what ‘oud’ is actually meant to smell like. Most of what I’ve experienced previously is synthetic, and natural oud is something else…expensive, but totally sensuous! We couldn’t leave the shop without buying our own bottle of it. And now we will be the most fragrant pilgrims you could wish to meet!

As for photos…today’s offerings include lots of the Duomo. Then there’s the silly ones. Like the policeman, who has to carry a white ‘handbag’. That wouldn’t go down well at home if that was part of our police uniform! Right on the corner of where we are staying, is a street name I just had to take a shot of…and a selfie. Urgh, I hate taking them, but know it’s good to include the odd photo of us both.

Day 18 – Tuesday 16 July. Monteriggioni to Siena

We had another delicious dawn this morning as we started our stroll to Siena. As we looked back at Monteriggioni in the beautiful morning light, we took our last photos. Putting our phones away we concentrated on the trail and picked a gentle pace that would be kind to our feet.

It’s a lovely walk and at 20 km’s or so it’s quite comfortable walking and even with plenty of rest stops you get to arrive in Siena just on lunchtime. How fortunate! Cos that means gelato usually.

Our app advised that there were no ‘roadhouses’ along the route, so we were prepared for another day of walking without coffee. So we were pleasantly surprised to find a fantastic donativo at La Villa, about a third of the way into our jaunt. Marcello our unexpected host, is a great example of a hospitalero. He busied himself making espressos for us and ensuring the other three Italian walkers who arrived before us had plenty to eat. His enterprise runs like a well oiled machine. We were made to feel so welcome as Marcello and his wife shared their space, their time and their love of the Francigena with us.

Donativos are found in the unlikeliest places at times. And the spirit of generosity you experience is very humbling, as these folks ensure that there is something available for pelligrini’s without requirement for payment. These are very special people, and much appreciated by us.

After our very nice coffees we dawdled back to work. Our path today was a mixed bag of heavenly forest trails and hard surfaced roads. The rain over the last couple of days or so had freshened things up a bit and dropped the temperature by a couple of degrees. Good for walking that’s for sure.

Arriving into Siena didn’t quite have the wow factor we felt with Lucca. That’s not to say that it’s unremarkable here. It’s breathtaking in its own way. The central piazza is pretty special and we look forward to exploring more widely tomorrow. Right now though we feel like a nanna nap. Our get up and go seems to have got up and left. But we are prepped for a late night snack as we called into a specialty supermarket earlier. Antipasto goodies await us when we get hungry. I have bought some of the best gorgonzola I’ve ever tasted, and believe it or not, Mal has an expensive bottle of red to quaff. His dedication to sampling the vino is remarkable. He’s even providing homework of sorts to the East Dili Wine Appreciation Society that he’s an avid member of. He isn’t yet in fully fledged bacchanalian territory but given time…

We expect that some of our fellow pilgrims will now be stopping here and finding their way back to home base. Many people choose to walk just the Lucca to Siena stages as they are the most scenic. Some we’ve met over the last few days are non commital about carrying on to Rome. I guess we will know soon enough, but regardless we are happy to have the path to ourselves should they choose to stop here.

Our home for the next couple of nights is fab. The water pressure in the shower is stupendous! The air con thingie is also pleasingly quiet so I’m hopeful we will have a good night’s sleep.

And after some good advice (thanks Walkmag 😊) we’ve plastered our feet in arnica gel and look forward to the banishment of the tootsie aches.

Day 17 – Monday 15 July. San Gimignano to Monteriggioni

We took the bus as planned as the feet needed a break. And as luck would have it, it’s also raining. But sometimes luck runs out when you have to walk for 20 or so minutes to a different hotel to check in and pick up the keys for your place within the walled part of Monteriggioni. So off we trundled, with our rain jackets on, schleping down the highway with cars and trucks speeding towards us. A cluster of porcupine quills at the side of the road caused us to stop. I picked one up in the hope that it will bring us better luck than the porcupine who used to own it. Once we found the hotel that had our keys, we settled down for a bit, to play the game of waiting out the drizzle.

A holidaying Irish chap chatted to us for a bit. The focus being the outcome of the cricket. He was impressed with the sportsmanship of our captain and of course I mentioned that is a pleasant change to the likes of Mr Cheika who moans his way through the consistent defeats of his rugby team. To which I was reminded that Mr Cheika once coached the Dublin rugby team. I resorted to throwing around some Irish terms that I thought might be fitting – gob shites and eejits – and said farewell to the bemused fellow.

We’d also met an interesting and very engaging family from the Hawkes Bay while waiting for our bus earlier in the morning. The delight you feel when meeting fellow kiwis is lovely. They currently live and work in Bangkok and get to travel to Europe most summers. I find it really captivating to hear how NZ’ers embrace a very different lifestyle living elsewhere, and yet remain very connected to their kiwi identity. It fuels our wanderlust, to be honest.

Meanwhile, back at the hotel, we didn’t have to wait long before a shuttle service to Monteriggioni was offered gratis which we happily accepted. Maybe my new lucky charm was starting to work it’s magic.

A spot of shopping then lunch was in order as we contemplated our day off in what is a very little place with almost nothing to do. Perhaps a lazy day, being horizontal instead of upright is a good idea. And made a valid choice as I think I have a touch of a cold coming on. I thought this morning’s bus ride made me a bit car sick, but that nauseous feeling didn’t go with the departing bus. So we will be lounging around for the rest of the day in another medieval hotel with ancient narrow steps to climb and original rafters to stare up at when the interweb becomes boring.

Photos are of San Gimignano last evening, where the blue of the evening sky is just lovely. Mal looking a bit like a Willie Apiata meme, and our first views of Monteriggioni before climbing the short hill up to the old city. Then there’s a shot of the door to the restaurant we had lunch in. I was exiting when this chap was indecisive about whether he was going in or not. The sign on the door welcomes doggies to join their human pals. Which I love. Perhaps he was nervous about his choice of outfit today. Do white socks and black shoes go with my business shirt and plaid boxers look? He could be legitimately asking himself. Who cares, you do you buddy!!

Fingers crossed that I am feeling chipper tomorrow, as we are meant to walk to Siena.

Day 16 – Sunday 14 July. Gambassi Terme to San Gimignano

Well, after the protracted walk of yesterday, what a difference a day makes! Twenty four little hours, indeed. So many lines in this song fit our yesterday vs today experience.

Gambassi Terme is such a cute place. It really needed more of our attention, but we were a little too battle weary to explore any further than finding dinner and getting back to bed. Our room was a pretty little thing, and the owner runs an enoteca around the corner from his bijoux accommodation enterprise. Mal was minorly disappointed that the wine bar was shut, but he is making good progress overall in drinking his way down to Rome. Don’t feel sorry for him, as the other day in Lucca he quaffed an entire bottle all to himself. He remarked that he may wobble back to our digs as his legs were feeling the effects of the magical red liquid. He was also rather chuffed that the aches he’d been feeling in his feet had disappeared. So now, he’s quick to state the medicinal properties afforded when he’s ordering up his doses once we’ve finish walking for the day.

Given the trials we faced yesterday, we spoilt ourselves with a 30 minute sleep in. As we departed Gambassi Terme, we felt the change in temperature and mood. Our morning was cool and our legs were happy to be moving us south. This part of the VF is blissful. I could walk this stage every day for the rest of my life. It is remarkable. We took the opportunity to stop at the Santuario di Pancole. A service was being held and we enjoyed the angelic singing of the nuns for a few minutes. The Santuario is beautiful. Simple architecture and totally inviting. We carried on our way and before long had the chance to look around a working monastery. What a delight that turned out to be.

The rest of the day was spent taking in the view of San Gimignano as step by step we closed in on our destination. Holy cow. What a place this is!! It is majestic. And weirdly it also looks like a movie set. Clean, broad streets and a trio of large piazzale. It’s like everything is on a grand scale. But, there are also demon hordes of tourists. It’s like Cinque Terre without the sea.

Tomorrow we travel to Monteriggioni. By foot, a 31km day. We are going by bus as our balls hurt. Yep, the balls of our feet held a meeting and said, ‘give us a rest.’ So we will do as our feet have asked and this will give us some luxury in the morning as we won’t need to be up at 5am. We are feeling a bit giddy at the prospect of a proper sleep in.

If you are planning to visit Italy, we’d thoroughly recommend Toscana. The little town of Pancole is especially beautiful and would make for a great base to explore the region. We are already thinking of a return visit ourselves, and the hotel we dropped into for a rest stop this morning would suit perfectly – Hotel Le Renaie – simply yummy.

Day 15 – Saturday 13 July. San Miniato to Gambassi Terme

I must be honest, I didn’t want to write about today’s walk. I never thought 24km could be so difficult. As the weather gods played with us, unmercifully.

We started with a bit of moaning and groaning. Still a bit knocked about from yesterday’s distance, I think. The perfect storm of searingly hot temperatures, no cafes for 22km out of 24, sparce opportunities for shade and little breeze, led to a desperately challenging days walk.

Sometimes when you are in the middle of nowhere with a rapidly depleting resilience for the conditions, frustration leads to a few spilt tears. It happened on the camino Francés for me when I became so cold I believed I’d never be warm again. And today, after a long stretch of walking in the heat with no shade, and my pack feeling like an utter burden, I thought, ‘this is so hard, I could almost cry’. The thought became my reality, and out plopped a couple of tears. I won’t bang on about it too much, needless to say we both wanted the walk over and to put it behind us.

Two km’s outside of Gambassi Terme (our finish line for the day) we came across a cafe. Given our desperation, it was like manna from heaven. Two bedraggled almost human wretches collapsed at a table with an ice cream from the freezer and a fruit juice from the fridge. Hallelujah, we had found our oasis in the desert. Music was playing in the background as we cooled off with our treats, and the song ‘Finally’ came on. Priscilla Queen of the Desert! If that doesn’t lift flagging spirits, nothing will! We sang along with a big grin and I said, ‘maybe our quote today should be from that movie.’ So Mal googled, and read aloud Terence Stamp’s line that I’ve (partially) used for this quote. I laughed so loud, and Terence’s character Bernadette embodied our mood for the day. If only I could have put the weather gods in their place with something as witty.

But Mr Weather had another plan up his sleeve for us. As we left the cafe, now in much better spirits, thunder rolled above us. ‘Are you for freaking real?’ I muttered. Then the fat juicy blobs of rain started. We had to leg it to find shelter next to a gas station. The temperature dropped by 10 degrees, and I was now cold. After waiting for a while, Mal reckoned the rain was easing. Oh well, let’s head off and get to our accommodation we agreed. After 20 minutes or so we were outside our home for the night. A little more waiting was needed for the owner to turn up, but we had finished for the day. Thank goodness for our cafe, it was our absolute highlight. And we learned once again, that if conditions are really challenging, you can’t enjoy the countryside you are walking through. Please Mr Weather, don’t be a ‘mullet’ tomorrow. Regards, us.

Day 14 – Friday 12 July. Altopascio to San Miniato

We slept pretty well last night. Turning off the alarm we were wanting more sleep, but had to get our act together if we were to get underway for what we knew would be a big day of walking.

Out of the hotel we slipped, well before 6am and in rounding the corner we found a cafe open. We didn’t expect that! So in not wanting a golden opportunity to slip through our fingers we wandered on in. Coffee was ordered, enjoyed and paid for. A time check showed we were back on the road at 6:02am.

We had 30 odd kms to do today and Mal’s foot has been troubling him. To the point that some fear was making itself at home in that mind of his. So I put on my ‘nursey’ persona last night and experimented with strapping and the placement of some silicon for ‘squishiness’. I requested that he keep his foot elevated on a pillow and that he start taking his vitamin ‘I’. All pilgrims know the benefit of carrying and taking this vitamin. Which is ibuprofen, by the way.

To cut to the chase, his worry about his foot and the distance to be covered today was palpable. I will be sending him an invoice in due course, as my ‘professional services’ have provided real relief and an easing of his troubled mind.

The path today was long, and the saying ‘arse about face’ is fitting. You start walking with the shade of the forest path. Which is fantastic of course, relaxing and super enjoyable. As the day wears on and you hit half way, you are out in the open. Walking in the sun. Zero shade. De nada. And the twin towers of San Miniato are a constant reminder of how much further you still have to go. If comfort was a requirement the trail would run the other way!

And, if Italian customs had not ‘stolen’ our sun umbrellas, we’d have used them today. The shadeless path was it’s own form of torture.

Let me describe the motivational chats we had to get us through. We used the phrase…’Right now, I’m walking for…’ And this is the order of what we indeed did walk for…2nd coffee and a freshly squeezed juice; an ice cold drink; shade; a gelato; and finally; a shower and a quick lie down. So after all that walking in sun, the final test is to walk up a hill. It isn’t a total killer, but crikey, what a heart thumping finish to the day. The joy was real. We’d made it, and Mal confirmed his foot was ‘good as gold’.

As we now wait for dinner, we are feeling very hungry. Thank goodness we are sleeping in a posh hotel. Another treat to celebrate our achievement.

This is what two wrecked but happy oldies look like after finishing the day’s climb.

Day 13 – Thursday 11 July. Lucca to Altopascio

On our last trip to Tonga to have five wonderful days swimming with humpback whales, we met a fantastic lady named Marlene. Marlene is a true blue, fair dinkum Aussie who entertained us with her sayings and energetic joie de vivre. A day wouldn’t go by without us hearing Marlene declaring ‘some days are diamonds, other days are pearls!!’ This was always said with an exaggerated Australian accent which would set me off in a fit of giggles.

Today reminded me of gorgeous Marlene, because today was a ‘pearls’ day. Definitely not a diamonds day, as we had to slog out our miles on tarmac and pavement with only the briefest respite on a dirt track. There is always something to appreciate though. Firstly, we had enough in the way of little towns to go through which meant coffee, orange juice and a chance to get off our feet. The weather was also 10/10. We are coping extremely well with the warm conditions. In fact, I would go so far as to say the warmth suits us!

We are also very good at ‘walking meditation’…we can walk and not talk and just ‘be’. The endless hard surfaces give you two choices – you can focus on how freaking tired, hot and sore your feet are getting or, you can nurture the weird and wonderful thoughts that come and go through the old grey matter. We seem to flip flop through those options to be honest, but when the feet start screaming we fairly quickly look for a place to collapse and take our shoes off.

But…some of the things that make us go hmmm…are these:

– Why are there so many dachshunds here? There are smooth coated and wire-haired versions in abundance. It has taken me by surprise to see the prevalence of this breed.

– Also, in such a hot climate why are there more long haired doggies than short haired? They huff and puff on their leads poor things when out for the obligatory toileting, and again I would have thought we would have seen more slick coated woofers.

– If you think Tuscany is all about terracotta coloured houses, think again. Who knew that terracotta is out, and dandelion yellow is in! Well in these parts anyway.

– Litter. Everywhere. But especially beside the roads. Italy is so beautiful and it is such a shame that plastic bottles and cigarette packets are just biffed out of vehicles.

Anyhoo, enough about that. We had cause to laugh today when I said to Mal, ‘you know what doesn’t smell so good under the Tuscan sun?’ He of course says, ‘What?’ ‘Dog turds’ I reply. We’d just strolled along the pavement with little piles of it at regular intervals. Gross. And as it proved, hot and stinky is worse!

So, we were incredibly spoilt with Lucca and now Altopascio looks mildly grim in comparison. Of course it does. Lucca sets a high bar and the surrounding towns simply can’t compete. As we wandered in this afternoon I was reminded of the satirical Facebook page ‘Shit towns of NZ’. If there was an Italian version, poor old Altopascio would likely be featured. It’s not as if there is anything especially woeful about the place, it’s just a bit bland. Not helped of course by our hotel looking like a repurposed vivisection lab. The flash 3 star hotel sign out the front can’t make amends for the brutalist concrete design and teeny windows that first get seen as you round the corner making a beeline for the place. Curiously, the hotel manager has 7 dogs in the hotel. All rescues from the street. And on that fact alone I would recommend staying here. Altopascio isn’t a hidden gem of a town, but rescued animals who get a second shot at living in comfort and with loving attention gets our nod of approval.

In so far as photos today, not many were taken. As we left Lucca we passed the church of Saint Gemma. An interesting lady who was fast tracked to canonisation. We really liked the church – simple, unfussy and welcoming. So we’ve included a couple of pics. I took a shot of the endless pavement as a reminder of two things – that it is hard on feet, but also…Italians really know how to lay bricks. There wasn’t a single stone out of place in the miles of footpaths we walked today.

Day 12 – Wednesday 10 July. Rest day in Lucca

Rest days are great for getting on top of some life admin. We have the joy of a washing machine here, and we have been blessed by also having clothes detergent. We’ve been washing everything by hand since we left NZ and my white t-shirt had taken on a beige tinge that I just couldn’t shift. 60 minutes in a machine and it’s as good as new.

We also achieved sending a small parcel to Spain, using Poste Italiane. This was no small feat. We’ve twice failed in our attempts to engage with the unfathomable Italian postal service, so today’s win resulted in a high five. You have to supply your own packaging here. You can’t just walk in and buy a box or courier bag. So our early morning trip to a sporting goods store resulted in a shoe box that we repurposed. We then used the sports tape that was meant for blister management, as packaging tape. Et voila! Mission accomplished. Some research on how the postal service works here was also done, so we were forearmed with some intel we didn’t have before.

After getting the parcel away the day was ours for simply wandering Lucca and watching the industry of tourism. This is a city that surely thrives on the travellers and tourists that come to soak in this Tuscan wonder. There is also a summer festival on and tonight, Tears for Fears are playing…they are looking a little worse for wear if their posters are anything to go by. Their synth pop is pretty recognisable though, and surprisingly we can both sing along to a few of their hits, so I’m sure those heading to the concert will have a good time.

We reflected today that there are three distinct types of tourist that you encounter while travelling to places where English is not the first language. The ‘pointers and sign language’ folks who seem to lose the ability to utter a word and choose to just point at what they are after and hold up fingers to show how many of the pointed at things they want. Then we have the ‘tourist trolls’. We’ve seen a few of these, sadly. They tend to travel in groups and refuse to speak anything but English. They are quick to eye roll and tsk, and can become shockingly rude at the drop of a hat. We wonder what they leave home for. They don’t seem very happy or content, and they clearly don’t like being out of their goldfish bowl, so why do they travel? Perhaps I should get up the courage to ask one of them. Then, there are the ‘cultural polyglots’. Well-travelled, speaking good second, third and fourth languages, who know about diverse cuisines and customs. Like the delightful Swedish family who dined at the same restaurant as us last night. They spoke excellent Italian with the waiter and then effortlessly moved between Swedish and English when chatting with their young children. They appear to be excellent examples of global citizens and they left us wanting to commit more of our time to learning a second language.

So we picked today’s quote because walking the streets of Lucca reminds us in many ways of the alien diaspora who converge on Fhloston Paradise in the movie The Fifth Element.

Tomorrow we walk again, having really enjoyed our time here. Lucca is a 10/10 city and in our view gets a ‘must visit again’ review.

Our photos are a real mixed bag! A couple you might have to look closely at…the lady on the bike for example. She is holding her 9 month old puppy with one arm while trying to ride her bike. Then there’s the pic I took in the hairdressers. The sticker referring to ‘the bank’ made me laugh out loud.

Day 11 – Tuesday 9 July. Camaiore to Lucca

Who knew that today would be the day we’d meet not one, but five pellegrini! Not a fellow walker in sight for 10 days, and then, a veritable rent-a-crowd turns up.

The usual routine to get ready and vacate our digs played out like clockwork this morning, although we sadly shut the door behind us at La Stagione dell’Arte. It was such a beautiful space to relax in for the night – it was literally regal compared to most places we’ve stayed in.

As we exited Camaiore we were confined to road walking for a while. But, we were excited to be making our way to Lucca. We both had high hopes for what it would have in store for us. As we crested our first hill we were hanging out for our coffees and knew there was a cafe close by. The scenery was fulfilling but we needed to be caffeinated. Shit, damn, blast it all to hell. The cafe was shut, not aperto…and opening wouldn’t happen till 9:00…it was 7:12. So we availed ourselves of their verandah, sat down and drank water. As we consoled each other on our dire state of decaffination, the vision of three pellegrini appeared. An Aussie, a Scotsman and a Dutch woman. Sounds like the beginning of a joke, doesn’t it? The Aussie rocked over and said ‘Hi’ and the usual chit chat ensued. Where have you walked from etc. For this trio, they are the anointed ones as they started in Canterbury. Big kudos, they looked fighting fit, although Lindsay from Melbourne desperately needed a shave. We waved them goodbye but found that 20 minutes later we had crashed the same cafe further down the road. The trio was now a duet. The Dutch lady was not in good spirits and was now walking solo. So some good banter was struck up with Lindsay and Arthur our Scotsman from outside Glasgow. It is heartening to bump into lively folk who are real characters, and these gents were highly entertaining. But we couldn’t sit and chat all day, as we had some serious km’s to do. On went the packs and as we were parting ways, two more pellegrinos were walking past the cafe. Good Lord, we were now a swarm. We think these new arrivals were French, but couldn’t be entirely sure. They were keen to walk on so we kind of ended up walking in their slipstream for a while. Well, if you can imagine the type of slipstream created by walking at 4km/hour!

The walking was brilliant. Great scenery and a fantastic smell carried on the breeze. Seriously, I now know why some perfumiers try to evoke the Tuscan scent. It does exist – as it’s created by the cypress trees and jasmine and the sun heated wild flowers.

As we were closing in on our last 8kms or so for the day we found that we were gaining on our French walkers. It was happening very slowly. Very slowly indeed and eventually we drew up alongside them. Them on one side of the road, us on the other. It was the most painfully slow overtaking manoeuvre you could ever hope to see. Like four racing snails.

Before we knew it Lucca was in our gun sights. We approached from what I would call the ‘arse end’ of town. This effect is created by slightly downcast housing, graffiti and general poor town planning…but lordy, lordy…when you get to the porta (entrance) to the walls of Lucca, all is forgiven for the slightly eyesore approach. Magnificent. Actually walking to a place allows you to tap into a spiritual feeling of what it might have been like 1000 odd years ago when folks entered the city through the gate and were welcomed into the inner sanctum behind the wall.

If that wasn’t a glorious enough feeling, as we found ourselves on the main road in, the hairs on my legs stood up. Yep, that’s not a typo. I actually felt my leg hairs stand up. (It’s impossible to keep up the lady shaving process while on the road!). We were not disappointed and our high hopes for arriving in Lucca were dealt in spades.

After booking into our room we showered and changed then rushed out to soak up more of Lucca’s intoxicating vibe. Dinner was had by a bit of restaurant hopping. A starter at one place, followed by the next course elsewhere. Mal enjoyed a fab syrah from Lazio and we just kept looking at each other and smiling. How cool is this place? We keep repeating. That’s amore for sure – can’t wait to explore more tomorrow on our rest day.

Day 10 – Monday 8 July. Marina di Massa to Camaiore

I’m not sure we were really ready to leave Marina di Massa. It’s charm really does deserve more than an overnight stay. But leave we must.

Our little room for the night turned out to be a highly efficient sauna. We weren’t able to leave the door open due to mosquitoes. So once we closed ourselves in, we set about murdering the mozzies trapped inside with us. It’s a sport that is intense and competitive. It can take awhile to get your hand eye coordination just right. And as we found, a fair few of the blighters had already feasted on me (they don’t like Mal) and enabled a bit of DNA splatter when flattened between a hand and the wall. We were relieved when Mal got the last one, which actually turned out to be two at once. Bonus round!

I’m not sure how we even got to sleep, but we did. And then it was time to go. Today has been, well, let’s say uncomfortable. We had some pretty countryside leaving the gorgeous city of Pietrasanta but the humidity wore us down as we made our way to Camaiore. We didn’t quite know what to expect of the route today, but we found we wanted it over as quickly as possible. And I think this is what makes a camino different from a traditional view of a ‘holiday’. Some days, or parts of days, you work on grit and resolve. There is usually a prize at the end of the more challenging days, and for us today it’s our apartment for the evening. Talk about lush. It is a sumptuous feast of objet d’art, and it’s spacious.

We are feeling the toll of our first week of walking, as you do, and look forward to the rest day we’ll have once we arrive in Lucca tomorrow. We have various bits of tape protecting blisters that turned up a few days ago, and Mal’s nemesis, the one that stopped him short of Santiago in ’17 has shown up. It’s small, and we’ve taped it up well, but it will need to be kept an eye on. This is the reality of walking in hot and humid conditions. But, as we keep reminding each other, we would rather walk in the heat than in the rain. There is little joy for us in putting on and taking off wet weather gear, or walking with our heads down as the rain comes in sideways!

But let’s talk a bit more about Camaiore because it’s another wee stunner. How is it that so many of these places can just casually pull off this quaint, rustic and arty vibe. It’s not just a single thing that they have in common, there is more to it than that, as Camaiore feels a little Parisian. And it is as equally lovely as Pietrasanta which is strikingly arty and chic with its juxtaposed modern art sculptures and old architecture. That’s European cities though isn’t it? We don’t have anything like it in NZ as we have such a young history.

Given how we’ve found today we haven’t laughed as much as we usually do. Lucky for us though, as we waited to get into our accommodation, we sat at a cafe and people watched. The local Lothario rocked up in tan boots, white linen trousers and a white and pink linen shirt. We guessed he was 60+, but sometimes you just can’t tell. He topped off his sensual look with the obligatory necklace and cross which required all those shirt buttons to be undone so we could enjoy his jewellery. He clearly keeps up his tan to set off the silverware, but it was his wig that made me gasp. Why oh why, do these types of chaps think that a manky dank rug somehow aids in shoring up their masculine image. It doesn’t. It isn’t a prerequisite to have hair to be a sexy beast! I couldn’t tear my eyes off him, and perhaps that is the problem. We stare and so he thinks it’s his sexual, manly prowess that keeps us looking in his direction. I think a #loveabaldman movement is needed!

Pics today are of Pietrasanta, and the walk into Camaiore…there were some interesting bits of art stashed in a vacant lot too – a horse head/boat sculpture that I thought was particularly interesting.

This sculpture is a bit grim, as the ‘missing bits’ of the horse are in the back of the ‘boat’.

Day 9 – Sunday 7 July. Sarzana to Marina di Massa

Sarzana really is a delightful city. The way we walked in yesterday was a mixed bag of things to look at, but by the time you find your way to the centre you are treated to another beautiful Piazza, central area of boutique shops and quaint houses. We also had a grand castle at the end of the street we stayed on. Talk about location, location, location.

In spite of having pretty streets to wander, we put ourselves to bed early. We’d tortured our poor old bodies trying to be mountain goats and frankly needed a cup of tea and a lie down. We won’t mention how Mal ‘broke’ the shower door…as he struggles to get his ‘manly’ frame into confined spaces. But he can now add a door to the toilet seat he shattered on our last camino! He really despairs at me sharing these details!! To be honest, it’s not uncommon to find various bits and pieces in hotel rooms being held together with glue or a bit of masking tape. Or, toilet seats missing altogether. I had to consult the interweb to find out why that is the case.

As for the walking today, we took a short cut. Took the road instead of the scenic route to cut our mileage in half and get us to the sea in a fraction of the time. It started to rain an hour and a half or so in. So we ducked off into a little commune called Luni. Waited out what seemed to be the worst of it then set off into the remaining half hearted drizzle. The rest of the walk passed quickly and before we knew it, there was the sea! Hoorah!! The sky darkened and we then had to bar hop as the heavens opened. Thunderstorms on this side of the globe are spectacular. We were entertained by some noisy, cracking lightening and a huge downpour creating surface flooding in no time. And after an hour or so, the moody clouds stormed off elsewhere. We were free to pick up our sticks and wend our way towards our camp ground, where we are kind of glamping for the evening. Camping is a serious business here. We are surrounded by various campsites which must occupy acres and acres. It’s great. And I think we’ve picked a goodie, as the guy running it is sort of an Italian surfer dude – laid back, friendly, in baggy board shorts and wild hair. He has his own hammock out the front of his ‘office’ which doubles as the bar. What a life…where do we sign up for a piece of this action?

Changing the subject slightly – for the ladies out there – can I just say that if you have boobies that are sized beyond the A to C range, then Italy has shops for us! Today I picked up a bikini top to replace a thing I’ve wrecked through washing everyday. The top fits ‘the girls’ perfectly. Sorry, (not sorry) if you are a bloke reading this, but the struggle is real for those of us not well catered for in main street shops at home.

As for Marina di Massa, we have the sea on one side of us and the marble quarrying mountains on the other. They look spectacular. You could be easily conned into thinking you are looking at snow on the mountains, but no, it’s the exposed marble. And because this resource is plentiful, they curb their footpaths with it, and have an enormous Piazza and surrounding streets all paved with it. Incredible. But, I would also imagine slippery in the wet, in the wrong footwear.

Photos today are of the castle in Sarzana, the mountains, which we learnt supplied Michaelangelo the marble for his sculptures and the downpour we watched from the sanctuary of a cafe. Tomorrow we travel back inland a bit to Camaiore. Then we’ll be heading to Lucca on Tuesday. Our photos then should be of Tuscan hills, vineyards and cypress trees. We might even start seeing other pellegrini given this part of the VF is the jewel in the crown.

Post script – Mal has just told me that Stevie Nicks has liked our blog post! Wowser 😍. Thanks Stevie, you rock (pun intended!)

Day 8 – Saturday 6 July. Aulla to Sarzana

As predicted the air con in our room in Aulla provided us the chance to sleep like the dead. It was wonderful. When the alarm went off we were ready to arise from the crypt and head off.

The lovely gent on duty at the hotel provided us with free water (out of a bottle, not the tap) and made us a gratis espresso and machiato. After our profuse grazie mille’s he wished us a happy walk, and we were on our way.

The day started well, with us getting down to work early on some hills, and our sweat machinery kicked into gear even though the morning temperature was nice. We came across a porcupine needle which I was enamoured by, but Mal encouraged me to leave it alone. Perhaps he thought the prickly beastie would come looking for it. For the first couple of hours I thought about our doggie, who would have enjoyed some of the terrain we covered today. My eyes welled up a bit thinking of Suki, but she is being taken very good care of by my Bliss (my sister) and we get regular photo updates which allow us to see the pampering she’s getting. Which of course also makes us very grateful for the support that comes from family in enabling us to take this trip. Thanks whanau, with your help we are wrecking our old bodies in this beautiful country!

As I ponder what to write about the trail today, I think my mind is trying to erase the memory of the truly hard yakka that filled a good proportion of our day. The trail was narrow, rocky, brambly and you really needed to use trekking poles to keep your balance. There were no cafes to rest at, we had to take our rest stops in the few places that afforded us the chance to shrug off our packs and guzzle some water. It’s a walking stage for masochists. We hurt all over, but are weirdly satisfied with our efforts.

As we closed in on the city of Sarzana we were in desperate need of a drink. We’d gotten through the 4 litres we carry and we were starting to feel a bit ‘hangry’. Not for food, but a very cold drink. I decided to take us off the trail for a bit as the collection of buildings ahead of us seemed a probable place to find refreshments. Mal didn’t like the idea of needing to back track if I was on a wild goose chase. But luck was with me and I found a deli. With juice and water! Jackpot. We sat on the side of the road and quenched our thirst. It was so wonderful. But we still had a bit further to go to get to our accommodation so hit the road again, with our camino hobble. Yes, the hobbling walk that affects all pellegrini is upon us. It takes a few steps before we feel like we are striding normally again and this will be our ‘normal’ until we stop this crazy carry on.

Under the heat of the early afternoon sun we arrived. Straight into showering and thinking about where we would eat. By chance I looked at Mal when he was out of the shower. ‘What’s that on your hip?’ I asked. Mal looked at where I was pointing and we both realised at the same time, that he had a tick. Eww…I grabbed the tweezers I bought just in case we did end up needing to extract one. I was able to get the whole thing out, and not leave it’s ugly head in his skin. Mal is miffed the tick picked him, but I’m thrilled. Ugly little free loaders!

Even though today was hard going, it was great to get a view of the sea, which is where we head tomorrow. It will be fantastic to have some swimming time before we start heading back inland toward Lucca.

The porcupine needle we found.

Day 7 – Friday 5 July. Villafranca in Lunigiana to Aulla

Another hot sweaty night. Sounds erotic. But it’s not. After arriving at our B&B yesterday, we greedily drank the water made available and settled in for a chat before heading off for a shower and a lie down. The lie down turned into fretful sleep as we tried to get the rest we didn’t achieve the previous night.

If you stay in a rustic town the church bells will chime out the time all through the night. And where we were, we had a grandfather clock providing that orologio service. They don’t seem to be silenced for night time. Nope. You get to count along to the 11, 12, and 1, 2 and 3 chimes. Not forgetting the single ding or dong marking the half hour. Tonight we should sleep like the dead. We’re in a hotel. With air con.

Our walk today started with senor host telling us we would have an easy day’s walk. Oh good, that’ll be a treat, we thought. So after he dropped us off at the ancient spring to fill our bottles, we set off. It started well. Pretty and picturesque. But then we hit long stretches of rocky path which needed our full attention so as to not roll an ankle. The Roman road was also part of the trail. That sounds almost romantic, doesn’t it? it’s not, after 30 minutes of walking on it, it’s a bastard. And we had about 2 1/2 to 3 hours of it. Those Roman soldiers must have never known what it was like to walk without a limp. Their feet must have looked awful. Ours hurt, and we have the luxury of vibram to take away some of the pain. So today’s effort doesn’t get a 10/10, I’d give it a 6/10, max. And I should have known not to believe senor host…he’s not walked the Via, so I’m not sure where his info is coming from.

He and his wife were delightful though, I wouldn’t want you getting the idea we didn’t enjoy the stopover at their place. We did. And we were particularly tickled by senor’s description of the retired men who are regulars at the local cafes. ‘They hide from their wives, in the bars’ he told us. ‘I don’t spend my time in them, they are like elephant graveyards.’ Well, we laughed at that comment. It’s so true…these old guys camp out in these places, nattering away to their mates, all refugees from their homes seeking some sort of domestic respite. Mind you, they get to slug back a bit of booze and chain smoke their way through the day. Still, not our idea of retirement though.

So another days walking is over for us, we are cooling off before we hit the shower and find a place to eat. Tomorrow will be a tougher day at the office. A fair amount of up and down. I just hope it’s not on any more roman road.

And a shot of the Roman road…

Day 6 – Thursday 4 July. Pontremoli to Villafranca in Lunigiana

You know that grand old home we stayed in last night, the one with fickle hot water? Well, we had the most ‘orrible sleep. The heat slowly climbed in the room as the night wore on, and the foam/latex mattress we were lying on produced a sous-vide effect where we were being gently cooked in a pool of our own sweat. Not a great image is it? And we kinda started our day with mixed feelings. Tired, but keen to get moving.

Once out the door (which absolutely felt like we were escaping the asylum), we had the cool morning air to brighten us up. The early part of the day was a fair amount of road walking, but once we hit the forest trail we were in our happy place. We trotted along in silence just enjoying what we call ‘a great day at the office.’

Then we came by a snake.

Don’t be alarmed, it was dead. Desiccated in fact. Probably squished by a car, and we guessed from its size that it was a local viper. A slow viper. A slow, flat viper. A crispy, slow, flat viper. Ok, I’ll stop now! I wonder if the snake was travelling with a pal. Where he may have yelled out…’come on Barry, it’s only a flesh wound!’ You can see that when we overdose on fresh air, our thoughts run to the ridiculous. In fact, we also giggle away to memorised scenes from Blackadder. The Spanish Infanta is a particular favourite. ‘Edmond…you are the only one for me, I really want to ‘ug and kiss you…’ That provides contented laughter for miles and miles.

Some folks will tell you that they ponder and pontificate on big problems while they ‘camino’. Not us. We find our minds empty rather quickly. And then the bizarre and crazy thoughts take rein. It’s brilliant. So long as we don’t get lost, we are happy chappies.

Speaking of getting lost…no, we haven’t done that today, but we have found the offline function on our Sloways app shows us exactly where we are along the trail. How come it’s taken us a few days to figure that little gem out?!?! I blame Blackadder, he’s a bad influence.

Anyway, back to the walking. It truly was a supreme day. Loved every minute of it. It had a bit of everything, rocky paths, secondary roads that allowed us to look at beautiful houses, that forested trail I mentioned and enough climbs to keep us honest. ’10/10, would walk again’ 😍

Tonight we are staying at a B&B called The Gingerbread House. Our hosts are magnificent. Senor is well travelled, a feng shui maestro, Chinese medicine afficionado and all round ‘very interesting man’. So – what a success today has been, after that inauspicious start.

And by way of apology, (‘cos we’ve loved our walking so much), we kinda forgot to take photos. Except we will show you the lovely cat who kept us company over our late lunch. She’s a recent mummy and allowed me to pick her up for cuddles. I thought she belonged to the restaurant owner as she seemed in good health. But, she’s as homeless as the rest of the cats we’ve come across. Now I’m wondering if I’ve inadvertently picked up a dose of ringworm! I can’t help myself…at least there are as many farmacias here as there are in Spain, so I should be able to pick up some cure all should a nasty little rash appear.

Day 5 – Wednesday 3 July. Still in Pontremoli

I don’t think Mehmet has ever visited Pontremoli. This city has a castello and many bridges. These aren’t designed for enemies to come, but to link the city, as it sits snugly across the joining of two rivers. Pontremoli means trembling bridge. None of the bridges we’ve crossed while here have trembled at all. Thank goodness.

Today though, we visited the castello. It is a museum primarily dedicated to the statue stele of Lunigiana. These are historic sandstone statues, distinctive for the area here. Their interesting history is explained during a visit to the castello/museo, and how the catholic leadership deigned the relics to be pagan, destroying some but also repurposing many of them. They can be found in the construction of churches that have been built on symbolic pagan ground for example. Anyway, for 7 euro each you get to tour the castle and learn about the history of the area. Well worth the cover charge.

Last night though, we were treated to a local event. Not sure exactly what was going on, but local blokes were in white robes, parading behind the local ladies. A Cardinal was reciting Ave Maria and we think they were walking from the church on the medieval side of the city to one of the churches over the bridge on the ‘modern’ side. It was both solemn and riveting to watch and the locals not involved stood quietly and silently watched as it passed by. It was a reminder that here, families are still very much involved with their church and community.

So as we enjoy these final hours before tomorrow arrives, we are itching to get underway again. We’ve switched our digs for our final night and are in a very grand room in an even grander house run by Gabriella. She speaks no Inglese and our Italian barely stretches to 200 words and a handful of useful phrases, none of which were helpful in navigating the conversation to ‘book in’. She hasn’t asked for our passports so we are not sure if we should go on the hunt to find her and query if she needs to see them. That can wait till later, and when we have sorted out the keys to the doors to get in and out. It’s a complicated business!!

Our photos today are almost exclusively from our castello visit. You’ll see a random ‘socks and sandals’ pic too. That’s just for a touch of humiliation. We are definitely now walking in sandals and the socks will be a ‘sometimes’ thing. It takes courage to don this footwear look. But…we don’t want or need wet feet. And our shoes are currently giving us just that. We had started to cook up some blisters so the switcheroo to sandals was a no brainer. Ugly but necessary!

Post script: our grand apartment seemingly has no hot water. I’ve had my cold shower and Mal is currently having his. I say shower, but you’ve got to do it while sitting in the bath. You can’t stand up because the shower thingie is for holding only. It looks rather lush but is frankly a bit naff, functionally speaking. Mal looks seriously ridiculous, poor thing, as he goes about his bathing. I have the mental image of us being in a posh asylum. But, wait for it, just as Mal has almost finished…hot water arrives and he squeals as he’s being scalded. Good Lord, how much water has to be wasted to get to the hot variety?

Day 4 – Tuesday 2 July. Cinque Terre

Getting to Cinque Terre from Pontremoli is achieved by taking two trains. Easy as anything to book online and then all you need to do is get to the station at the required time. It’s highly likely you won’t be asked to show your ticket so if you are like me, for the return trip, you’ll pick a train at a time that better suits. And not use the train you actually booked. Mal struggles with these continuous displays of my ‘unruly’ behaviour. I watch him, his brain contorting the idea that I am about to do a thing that he believes is outside the ‘rules’. But…I don’t think I’m a good example of an ‘asshole tourist’. They are pretty easy to find, and I feel for the people who live in Cinque Terre as they are inundated with them. For example, the very loud American man who in a booming voice complained about how hot and humid he was finding Italy. His house in the US of A is kept at a constant 65 degrees F (19.4C, I had to look it up), for his comfort…but Italy is not proving comfortable and no doubt he’ll be talking about it everyday till he gets home.

Then there are the ‘grammers’. You have to wait for them to take their perfect shots and they don’t bat an eyelid that a queue is starting to form. It’s a weird thing to experience en masse.

Manarola is pretty. No doubt. But I do think it’s a ‘oncer’ kind of place. I don’t think either of us will think of it as a highlight, or a place to return to, as we tourists have snuffed out whatever vibe it probably once had. Big ups though for the gluten free store they have. As someone who has needed to go gluten free recently, it was amazing to see the range of things available. Worth a stop if gluten is not your friend.

While we have plenty to do to fill our non VF days, we are looking forward to getting back on the trail. I think we’ve acclimatised as much as we are going to, and there isn’t any real hardship being felt by sleeping lightly and waking early. The mornings are so incredibly lovely. Almost cool, and walking in the early light is something that is reminiscent of the early starts in Spain. You can’t beat them.

We’ve probably not said much about the food as yet, how rude of us…it’s divine. We haven’t had anything that has been disappointing. Although, it’s almost impossible to eat both the primi and secondi courses. So tonight we shared our meal and that seems to be a good solution. A trip to the supermarket is also fantastic value. Yesterday we picked up olives, cheese, tomatoes, rocket and prosciutto for less than 10 euros. And for folks who love a good pastry, holy moly! The breakfast fare is anything from a doughnut to a Danish. We are still saying no to those, but ‘Si, per favore’ to a couple of a coffees in the morning. La dolce vita indeed.

Day 3 – Monday 1 July. Fornovo di Taro to Pontremoli

In planning this trip we set about carving up our daily walking distances and booking places to stay. For us to feel reasonably relaxed, we needed certainty that a bed, shower and food would be available at the end of each days ‘walkies’, and of course we wanted to exercise our choice in the quality of accommodation. We are still bearing the mental scars of staying in San Juan De Ortega in Spain. A particularly austere monastery cum albergue which was a grim overnight stay. Not to our liking, the incessant coughing all night made it seem as if we were in a 50 bed tuberculosis infirmary! We are not pellegrinos that hanker for the communal bathroom/dorm or bed bug experience.

Planning the first week proved to be the most difficult, particularly the two stages between Fornovo and Pontremoli. We had tried calling and emailing a couple of ostello’s but couldn’t get any response. Even using the receptionist in Medesano to help didn’t achieve contact with these very hard to get hold of folks. So we made a call of a different kind. Over dinner we decided that neither of us wanted to find ourselves in the position of having nowhere to sleep after walking for hours. So, we have hopped on a train and arrived in Pontremoli. We are in Tuscany!

This means our walking takes on a different purpose for three days. Today we are exploring both the medieval and ‘modern’ parts of Pontremoli (which we have been saying incorrectly…instead of Pontre-moli, it’s Pon-tremoli).

Given we now have the opportunity to add in a little side trip, we will travel out to Cinque Terre tomorrow. This hot weather means we’ll be able to don our togs and cool off in rather chic surroundings. Are we annoyed that we aren’t hiking the Cassio and Passo Della Cisa stages? Not in the slightest!! I have to say, reading fellow bloggers who have just done those stages, it sounds a little hazardous – snakes and ticks. Urgh.

So here we are, in an airbnb that is part of a medieval building. It is proving to be naturally cool without air con. What a blessing, after getting little sleep last night. We had no fan, no air con and couldn’t leave the windows open after an encounter with a massive killer wasp critter. It was so loud it sounded like a drone was being flown ever so slowly outside the window.

And our first impressions of Pontremoli? Well, it smells very old. Seriously. As you wander the little streets the scent is very specifically ancient, musty and mineral like. You can easily imagine our medieval whanau going about their business walking up and down the well worn cobbled streets. (Although our photos don’t include the ‘cobbled’ parts). It’s a very special place. And the real estate is, well, easily in the price range to consider retirement relocation.

Day 2 – Sunday 30 June. Medesano to Fornovo di Taro

We were up and out of our digs before 5:30am. Our taxi driver was waiting for us and after a short trip we were back at yesterday’s finishing point. Looking east we were greeted with the most incredible sunrise. It literally took our breath away. We are not far from Tuscany and I can see what is meant by the special light that is seen at sunrise and sunset.

Today’s walk was to be less distance than yesterday, and we hoped we’d be finished before the midday sun was upon us. Our preparations have thankfully improved, in that we only got lost one and half times today! Somewhere between Felegara and Fornovo we found ourselves wading through waist height (for me anyway) vegetation, pretending we could sort of see a track. We were lost of course. But, although we weren’t on the right track, we were in the right place to see two wild deer. They were beautiful. Startled by our presence they took off – leaving us with the elation of a wildlife encounter. We retraced our steps back to a point we believed to be on the path, and found a left turn we had missed as it was almost invisible. We were back on track!

The half lost moment involved finding our B&B. The instructions we had were good, but as we slogged up the hill we started to think we had passed it. We were looking at houses on the lefthand side of the road, not the right. So we started to wander back down the hill…stopped…relooked at the map and went back up. This slightly comedic carry on played out within 50m of where the B&B was eventually found. Congrats to us…not a totally gormless effort today.

Our two photos are of the glorious sunrise and a lovely pooch. I know dogs in cafes is not to everyone’s taste, but I like it. These doggies are so well behaved, they sit quietly and allow me a sneaky pat. What’s not to love about that?

Tomorrow we have a surprise in store. A last minute change of plan. We’ll tell you about it tomorrow!

Day 1 – Sat 29 June. Fidenza to Medesano

Only we weren’t technically cruisin, nor were we on a freeway. But the hot, hot sun is right.

I was reminded of this today while walking cos we’d listened to OMC belt out this classic NZ hit in Milan. And it was one of those moments where you do think, ‘how bizarre!’. How on earth did that song make it into the play list for a Milano radio station? Anyway, we loved singing along to it and felt very ‘kiwi’ doing so.

Anyway, back to today. Some things went well, other bits not so much. This is by no means the Camino Frances. Here we need to be way more prepared each day. The way markers are few and far between, the path uses farmland so is sometimes not very visible, and you have to apply much more confidence when opting for a left or right turn when all you can do is guess. And so, we have done a bit of back tracking today, and under a boiling sun you get a bit miffed. You forget that this is meant to be fun and you have to suck it up. Pleasure comes from feeling a cooling breeze or finding that you can walk in the shade of some trees for a while. Boy, those are lovely moments! I even got to put my head under a tap on the side of a farm building. It was amazing to cool off for a few moments and feel the water run down my back. Mal didn’t join in with that – but I reckon he’ll be just as keen to get wet when he figures out how nice it feels!

We stepped onto our path today at 6am. At that time the walking temp is great and we were able to enjoy its comfort for a few hours. As it started to heat up, I was thinking we needed to be on the road shortly after 5am to make the most of the morning climate.

It doesn’t take long to be put to work on the inclines which had us puffing, but nothing like walking Mt Climie on a hot summers day. Thank goodness.

As we passed by fields of sunflowers worshipping the sun, we smiled. They are so gorgeous. We were also amazed by the obvious wealth in some of the small hamlets we passed through.

But…by the time we hit our stop point at Medesano we had had enough. Sunburnt and weary and ill prepared for locating our hotel. As luck would have it, we found a bar and a proprietor who spoke a little English. And guess what? The hotel was still roughly 3kms away along a busy road…no shade…de nada. (You would think we’d have learned from yesterday’s experience, but ohh no, we clearly are slow learners). Let’s grab a taxi we agreed. Yeah, nah, this town doesn’t have any. Long story short, our wonderful bar owner took pity on us and had one of her staff drive us out to the hotel. They wouldn’t accept any payment which always makes you feel both humbled and blessed. It feels like the little kindnesses we’ve shared with tourists in NZ has provided us with some karma to use here!

Arriving at the hotel allowed us to contemplate how totally knackered we felt. We also smelled. Sweaty, tired and in need of a good shower. Nothing feels as good as being clean and then having a little lie down. 😊

Milano to Fidenza was achieved by using the regionale train. A pleasant shortish trip of just over an hour. And like Walt says, the ‘begin doing’ kicks off tomorrow. Probably around 6am, as it’s positively cool at that time – around 25 degrees or so.

It feels as though not much happens on our travel days. There’s plenty of downtime as we wait for a plane, train or automobile…although, you’d think we would prepare for the inevitable walk to our hotel by planning the route while we have WiFi and google maps. That would be sensible. Wouldn’t it? But…oh no. A simple screenshot without street names proves to be rather useless, and again today, we ended up wandering around with little clue as to where the hotel would be found. This bodes well I think for getting to Rome!!

There is usually an upside though. We are finding that our feet take us to a local gelateria and who are we to say no to a refreshing treat! And it gives us time to ponder, ‘do we go left or right down this cobbled street?’

We did find our hotel in the end. It’s quirky…and has a lovely family running the place. We’ve got the first stamp in our credential and have had a good wander round the town. We are pleased we headed over to see the medieval cathedral as it is a 12th century delight. Austere Romanesque and particularly peaceful inside. It’s a lovely start for our journey, to have sat down and meditated briefly. Many pellegrinos begin their Camino doing this, (whether planned or not) and it does feel the right way to start a long walk.

Here’s a random street shot, with a medieval tower, still standing…

And the Fidenza Cathedral. Of course, nothing like the Duomo in Milan, but I do love the relative simplicity. They seem more approachable to me, less ostentatious perhaps and I’m more inclined to go inside…

Why this quote? Good question. And the answer is…because sometimes, even in the midst of having a really good time you’ll brush up against a human who will seemingly go out of their way to try and make your day a bit shit.

We have some kit to send home and after asking for help from the hotel receptionist we were brushed off and sent packing to the post office. At the post office, we were told they couldn’t help…we were on our own. So, at a Cafe with WiFi I figured out how to ship said parcel home, made the arrangements and paid online. That was mortal sin number uno. Back at the hotel, the receptionist tore me a new one, as I ‘didn’t ask permission to use their email address’. Yes, seriously. In arranging the parcel pick up, they needed the hotel details. Obviously, for collection, but the receptionist was having none of it.

Sin number due came when I asked if there might be a cardboard box I could use. I assumed that they may have some consigned as rubbish. Nope. And quickly followed a barrage of less than helpful instruction. I started to lose my cool and had to retreat to the room, leaving Mal to complete sin number tre. Could the receptionist please print off the customs papers that were included with sin number uno? He returned to the room with them, so clearly leaving him to it was the best idea.

But really the internet was the hero today, as I was able to find a photocopy service and place for a box and tape…and also replacement trekking poles as Italian customs have proven to be unhelpful in releasing the parcel I sent ahead. Lesson learned.

Sometimes, you just meet folks who are going to be a bit in your face. She is one person amongst the many who have been totally delightful. Lucky for her though I don’t own a Magnum. Cos I’d have needed to ask…’Do ya feel lucky…well do ya…?’

Changing the subject, you might be wondering what the coffee is like. Damn fine, thanks for asking.

Mal is in seventh heaven having a couple of espressos in the morning, while I’ve found I love the machiato’s here. I’m loathe to say it, but I think the coffee is better than most of the stuff we get in Wellington. In the small cafes dotted around the hotel we are paying 1 euro per coffee. And that, my friends is a whole $1.70! What’s not to love about that? Then there’s cheese. Big chunks and slices of glorious cheese at the supermarket, asking only 2 or 3 euro. It makes me want to cry! Knowing how much I spend on my formaggio habit at home.

Tomorrow we head back to the central station and catch the train to Fidenza. We are already sporting a tan, so goodness knows what colour we’ll develop under the sun over the coming 30 plus days. I want to say ‘bring it on’, but…those last minute nerves are there. It’s not a race, but there is work to be done to get through each day. And so nerves are coupled with feeling extraordinarily grateful and fortunate that we can say yes to this adventure. See you tomorrow!

Milan. We have one more full day here to try our best at acclimatising to summer before we head a little south…and start the Via.

Having only arrived yesterday, we can’t help but think what a beautiful city this is. We are surrounded by fashionably chic Italians, where nonna’s truly understand style and colour, and men know that a tailored suit makes l’uomo look like a million bucks. It’s such a wonderful experience that you almost don’t mind being ripped off at a cafe in the main walking mall where all the best shops are found.

We are truly enraptured by watching locals. We catch ourselves smiling as we witness the liaisons of older gents with very young beautiful women, in animated and intense conversation. They are passionate and dramatic as they navigate what looks like a turbulent relationship! You can’t help but wonder if there is a long suffering wife at home managing the household while senor is gallivanting through these last years before retirement.

The food is…well…fantastico. And of course a certain person is enjoying a vino rosso or two, and limoncello after dinner…well, it would be rude to refuse I guess!

So, we think we are ready for Fidenza. We are about to send home a few items as we want our packs to be lean and mean. But what we are taking out will be replaced by bottles of water. It is going to be fairly arduous getting used to carrying gear and plodding our way south!

Our photos and videos today come via our walk to the Decathlon store.