Sunday, June 30, 2019

Day 46 - Arezzo to Castiglion Fiorentino





Today’s stage was described by the guidebook as being of “medium” difficulty. It would feature significant climbs (640 meters), precipitous descents, and a distance of nearly 25 kilometers.


I would characterize the stage in the words of the famous English football coach, Sven-Goran Ericksson: “First half good, second half not so good.”


We knew it was going to be a difficult stage, especially when one factored in the very hot weather. We elected to make an early start, departing at 6:30 while the temperature was below 80F. We strolled up through the quiet Sunday morning streets of Arezzo, down through the gate of the Holy Spirit, and then continued through the outskirts of town.


After about five kilometers of relatively flat land, the guidebook noted that we would make a steep ascent. It quickly became clear, as we hiked through the suburb, where the hill would come from. A large ridge loomed ahead of us, and, as it turned out, that was exactly where we headed.


It was not a bad climb. We were mostly on asphalt or a nicely-packed gravel road. The thick trees of a pine forest clustered around us, offering shade from the warming day. By the time we crossed over the top, ten kilometers into the stage, we were feeling pretty good.



Looking Back Toward Arezzo


We descended past Polciano, heading for the town of Rigutino. As we approached it, the first half of the stage came to an end.


One of the things I have noted in earlier installments of this blog is the Via’s tendency to bypass towns on the route. I view this as a negative. If you are in the middle of a twenty-five kilometer walk, you might want a town where you can pull in, have a cool drink in a bar, take your shoes off, or use the bathroom. Nevertheless, the Via planners didn’t seem to understand this, and they appeared to plan routes that went around towns, even when their alternative courses would add kilometers to the stage, rather than go through towns.


So I was not surprised when, just before Rigutino, the route made a sharp turn to the east and began to climb a hill away from the town. I was surprised however, when, after having been led away from the town, we reached a junction with a mass of arrows all pointing further up the hill toward the Pieve della Sassaia, an old church that has been turned into a pilgrims’ hostel.


All of the waymarks pointed up the hill, although the guidebook seemed to suggest that we “could” visit the church, or we could go back down the hill to the other side of Rigutino.


We chose, after considerable agonizing, to follow the arrows. We hiked up the hill in the sweltering sun to the church. No one was there. We sat for a few minutes in the chairs overlooking the valley, and then strapped our packs on and continued.



Pieve della Sassaia


Mary had seen a Via waymark even farther up the hill, past the pieve. We continued to climb, turned dutifully left to follow this new arrow, descended through an olive grove, along a tall stone wall, and then began to ascend a trail up the next ridge.


Problematically, none of this was on the map, it was not the course laid out in the guidebook, and my GPS showed us walking through a vast empty region completely devoid of known trails.


This was appropriate, as the trail we followed quickly split into several potential paths, all of which were quickly reduced by brambles and overgrowth to tiny wild boar trails. I aimed the GPS at the nearest known trail in the vicinity, and tried to convince Mary that we should just give it a little more time before giving up, turning around, and retracing an hour’s worth of walking.


Should it be this difficult? If you are going to send tired hikers on an overland, undocumented route, then you should have waymarks every 50 meters to let them know they are still on the right path. The path itself should be cleared of vegetation, wide, and the obvious way to go.


It was all very frustrating. Second half, not so good.


Eventually my GPS --- not the guidebook or waymarks --- led us out of the thickets. We found our way to a trail that descended from the ridge, and slowly trudged toward Castiglion Fiorentino. We were not happy.


We finally reached the town after nearly eight hours of hiking. We checked into our lodgings, showered off the trail dust, and then went looking for food. We (miraculously) found a pizzeria open on a Sunday afternoon. The kindly waitresses fed us, brought us a local drink to wash down our food, and when they heard that we were walking to Rome, they took a couple of pastries out of the display case, plopped them in a bag, and instructed us to eat them tomorrow morning before we began walking.


Sweet.



Typical Street, Castiglion Fiorentino


Castiglion is an amazing Tuscan hill town. The streets wind up to the very top where the fort once stood. Today the peak is the home of the city museum, and we spent some time looking at the artifacts that have been recovered from the area. The city was established in the Etruscan era, and has thousands of years behind it. The museum did a nice job covering this arc of history.



Torre, Castiglion Fiorentino


I would like to come back here when my feet don’t ache and it is not 97F in the shade.


Today’s Distance: 28.8 KM

Total Distance:  906.7 KM

Saturday, June 29, 2019

Days 44 & 45 - Subbiano to Arezzo





Heat has become the dominant story of the past couple of days. We expected the days to be warm in late-June, but we were not anticipating that we would be caught in an unprecedented European heat wave. The temperatures have been shattering long-established records in France, and they aren’t that much cooler in central Italy.


We departed Subbiano a little before 8:00. This stage was supposed to be short and fairly easy. In fact, apart from the temperature (it was already above 80F when we set out), it was not too bad.


The stage crossed the Arno River and followed it south for the first half. We had one small patch in which the blackberry brambles closed in around us, but there were no significant difficulties. At roughly the halfway mark, the stage crossed the Arno on a footbridge and ascended to the small town of Giovi.



Church, Giovi


This is a tiny, quiet town. It had a pleasant little piazza just up from the river. We looked at the exterior of the church (it was locked), and spoke with two elderly women sitting in front of their front door sewing.


They were very interested in us. We explained who we were and what we were doing. One of the ladies clucked in disbelief. “Have you ever walked to Rome?” asked Mary.


“No,” replied the lady. She pulled up her dress. “Bad knees.”


We continued. According to the road signs, Arezzo was only seven kilometers from Giovi, but that was by the direct route. The Via takes a circuitous course through the Tuscan countryside, and up and over the hill that it is home to the town of Puglia. We sweated past the groves of olives, rows of grapes, and twin lines of cypress trees, aimed like dusky green daggers at the hot sky.



Approaching Arezzo


It took us more than five hours to reach Arezzo. That is much slower than our usual speed, especially over terrain that is largely flat. I think the heat is slowing us down. We did make it however, and got under shelter in a lovely air conditioned apartment. As we walked through the suburbs, I saw one temperature sign at a pharmacy that indicated it was 38C, which is slightly more than 100F. Too hot for me.


Since we had not seen Arezzo on the way in, we resolved to spend the next morning, when the temperature would be lower, playing tourist and taking in some of the sights. A little after 9:00 AM, we climbed up the hill, through the San Clemente Gate, and entered the city.



Porta San Clemente


Arezzo was originally an Etruscan city. It was captured by the Romans, and became the third largest city in Roman Italy. After the Empire ended in the West, Arezzo was ruled by Lombards, bishops, and ultimately, it came under the control of Florence. It went into a decline in the late Medieval period and became a bit of a backwater in Italy.


Nevertheless, some very famous people have lived here, including Francesco Petrarch (the father of the Renaissance) and Giorgio Vasari (Renaissance architect, painter, and art historian).


We worked our way up the hill and then around to the Duomo. There we discovered a set of escalators that carry people up the hill. What a convenience. They should install some of these on selected parts of the Via.



Escalators make Hills Easier


After visiting the Duomo, we hiked down the hill (since Arezzo is situated on top of a hill, any direction you travel will take you up or down. There’s not much flat land in the town) to the Church of San Francesco. This church is very famous for its cycle of frescoes painted by the artist Piero della Francesco. This art was groundbreaking in its time, a forerunner of the developments that would characterize the artistic innovations of the Renaissance. The best-known of the paintings here is Francesco’s Discovery of the One True Cross, a cycle of frescoes that depicts the Emperor Constantine’s mother, Helena, discovering the cross that Jesus was crucified upon. Even I, someone who is poorly-versed in art history, was impressed. Mary was struck by the croce dipinta, the massive painted crucifix that is suspended above the high altar.



The Discovery of the One True Cross


We circled up to the medieval fortress, but it seemed to be blocked off by what appeared to be some kind of comic book convention. Even in Italy…


I wanted to see Petrarch’s house and a famous loggia named after Vasari. We did both, and as we were both shedding rivers of sweat under our clothing by this time, we took a break in the shade of Vasari’s Loggia at a small bar where we both enjoyed a cool prosecco.



Vasari's Loggia


The time had passed quickly. The sun was intensifying. We had a bite of lunch, and then took one last wander through the streets of the town.



Arezzo


Arezzo is a beautiful city. I wish we had more time here. Even more, I wish we had come in the Spring or Autumn when the temperature was better suited to sightseeing. We shall have to put it onto the growing list of places to which we must return.



Arezzo


Stage Distance: 21 KM

Total Distance:  887.9 KM

Friday, June 28, 2019

Day 43 - Chitignano to Subbiano





Today's stage began in Chitignano and ended in Subbiano. It was a relatively short stage, but it was designated a stage of medium difficulty by the guidebook, and this difficulty was enhanced by the heat and humidity of the day. Europe is in the middle of a heat wave, and there is no place for a Via hiker to hide from the extreme temperatures.



Pieve di Santi Vincenti e Petri, Chitignano


The day began well. We had a quick look at the Pieve di Santi Vincenti e Petri, a church in Chitignano, which, a plaque explains, was visited by Pope John Paul II. Next we climbed the hill to visit the Castello di Ubertino on the outskirts of town. The castle was all closed up: drawbridges tucked up tight, so we could not enter.



Castello di Ubertino


We continued on the main road to a gravel road, that quickly became a forest path. Ever since we left the flatlands of the south Veneto, I have noticed that the forest paths seem to have a problem with encroaching vegetation. Blackberry brambles, wild roses, and stinging nettles all collaborate to impede the Via walker. It might be very useful if, at the beginning of a pilgrimage, each walker was given a machete to help clear away some of the overgrowth we pass through. I must admit that I am beginning to cringe every time the guidebook mentions “a delightful trail through the forest.” I have learned that this phrase is a code for "a vigorous tussle with brambles."


As noted above, the stage is designated as one of medium difficulty. It works itself around the upper ridges of the Arno River valley. There are a number of ascents and descents, although nothing like the approach to La Verna. I think the guidebook is completely accurate in its evaluation: it is not an easy stage, especially on a hot day.



Castello di Valenzano


The trail led us by a second castle (the Castello di Valenzano), which was very spectacular. It sits perched high above the Arno valley, with a fabulous square tower and (what appeared from outside) to be wonderful grounds.



Castello di Valenzano


Near the tower I also saw a huge beetle, whose body was at least two inches long, and I would bet that its antennae were three inches long. Amazing.



Giant Beetle


Down the hill, up the hill, and soon we reached the Church of Santa Maria della Neve. We pulled off our sweaty backpacks and took a seat on some benches in the shade. There seemed to be some kind of day camp in operation and eight and ten years old boys raced wildly around the walls of the church.


After passing through Giuliano, we ran into more waymark trouble. The guidebook states that pellegrinos are to walk down the asphalt road until it makes a sharp right hand turn, and then turn off onto a dirt road. Well before we reached this turn, waymarks popped up indicating a left hand turn.


I consulted my GPS. It said continue on the main road to the turn. I consulted the guidebook. Same thing. Nevertheless, we decided to follow the arrows for a bit and have a look. After we had walked up the hill past a couple of houses, we saw more signs, but they seemed to be pointing toward agriturismos. Had someone put Via signs down on the main road to lure customers up to their businesses?

Frankly, after being led astray by waymarks a few times over the past week, I was inclined to endorse this theory. We decided that this time we were going to hold fast, and follow the guidebook and the GPS. We walked back down to the main road, continued to the curve, where we found the dirt road that departed. Unfortunately, there were no Via waymarks on this road, and fifty meters in was a sign that stated the road was private property.


My theory is that the owner of the road has closed it, and that an alternate route (the earlier one) has been selected to replace it. Nevertheless, you would not know that based on the guidebook, nor the trail changes listed on the website.



Lizard in Drainpipe


We had two options: backtrack in the near 100 degree heat and hope we found a way through, or adopt the bicycle route, and follow the main road down to the highway and hike into town. We chose the latter course. Soon we were strolling into the lovely town of Subbiano. The temperature when we arrived was 96.



Medieval Castle, Subbiano


After a rest, we ventured out into the hot afternoon. The guidebook only lists two attractions: the remains of a medieval castle, and the church, Santa Maria della Visitazione. The castle has been converted into apartments, and the church was locked up tight. Nevertheless, we did spend a few minutes looking out over the Arno River, as it ran cooly through a canyon that bisects the town.



Church of Santa Maria della Visitazione, Subbiano


Today’s Distance: 17.8 KM

Total Distance: 866.9 KM

Day 42 - La Verna to Chitignano




After a couple of evenings in the high places, it was time to resume our trek to Rome. After breakfast, we began our trek down the mountain toward our next destination, Chitignano.


This was supposed to be a short stage (only 10.8 KM). We descended the hard stone mule path from La Verna, and entered the tiny town of Breccia, which sits at the foot of the mountain.



Mary of the Mule Path


Things immediately went wrong. I was under the impression that we were to proceed through the village of Breccia. However, as we entered the village, we saw a Via waymark, pointing to the left.


"Must be the usual Via practice of routing us around towns," I quipped to Mary. Dutifully, we followed the arrow (although we should know better by now).


I felt that we were going the wrong way, as we walked along a shady forest path. Nevertheless, my doubts were assuaged by the reassuring presence of additional Via arrows, guiding us forward. We continued to follow the arrows until we reached a small town. Then the arrows disappeared.


Time for the GPS. Actually, the time was back when we had first turned left in Breccia. I discovered that we had reached the town of Chiusi della Verna. A quick consultation of both guidebook and GPS revealed that we were well off the established path.


Later, when we had time to scrutinize the Via website, we learned that the path to Chiusi della Verna is a possible side trip. Evidently, Michelangelo was baptized in a church in Chiusi della Verna. We didn't know that as we stood, scratching our heads on a main street of a town that was nowhere close to the route that led to our ultimate destination.



La Verna


This is not the first time that the waymarks had led us astray. It was not even the first time in three days that we had been led astray. Some more thought needs to be put into this. Maybe the Via Association could come up with a different colored arrow (blue?) that would signify an interesting deviation that will take the pellegrino away from the main route. Arrows that deliberately point in the wrong direction are frustrating.


I resolved the situation with my GPS. I told it to take us to our hotel in Chitignano, and, happily, the road we were standing on, Provincial Road 60, led right to our destination. We walked down this 10 KM asphalt road. Fortunately it was lightly traveled, and we spent most of our time in the shade.


Slightly less than two hours later, we reached Chitignano, no worse for the experience.



Today's Selfie


Today’s Distance: 12.7 KM

Total Distance: 849.1 KM

Day 41 - La Verna




After the two hardest stages on the Via, we took a rest day at the Franciscan monastery of La Verna. This monastery is an integral part of the story of St Francis. In 1213, Francis was making a trip to Spain. He planned to pass through that country to Morocco, where he hoped to convert the leader of the Muslims. Enroute, he met Count Orlando Cattani at a party. The Count was so impressed with Francis’ spiritual conversation, that he offered to donate Mount Penna to the friars to serve as a place of solitude and contemplation for the order.


Francis sent a couple of his men to the mountain, and later, when illness forced him to interrupt his journey to Morocco and return to Italy, he also went to Mount Penna. There, on the lower slopes of the peak, he founded La Verna.


La Verna is a very popular spot. It does a brisk tourist trade, with tour buses and school groups rolling up throughout the day. The Franciscans also host retreats, courses, and other residential programs. It can be quite busy during the day.


Despite its popularity, La Verna retains some of its contemplative spirit. In the evenings, the crowds depart and only a handful of overnight guests remain. La Verna becomes quiet and peaceful. The ancient stones ooze silence as the evening shadows gather.



Cloister, La Verna


We were completely spent upon our arrival. The two hardest days of walking had taken their toll on our bodies. We took showers, then threw ourselves on our (single) beds to rest our aching feet and legs. There is no internet at La Verna, nor, as far as I was able to discern, television. Mary, however, could receive a little internet through her phone. She had an email from an Italian journalist who wanted to interview us for his newspaper when we passed through his town (San Pietro). Unfortunately, that was now a stage behind us. When she responded with our regrets, he replied that he would be happy to travel to La Verna to meet us.


The dinner for guests at La Verna was communal. We were seated with two Franciscan nuns, one from Assisi and the other from Peru. Neither spoke English. I was forced to pull out my fractured and fractious Italian to translate Mary’s questions, although she does an amazing amount with gestures and slow English. The nuns were taking a course on prayer. The elder nun, Sister Irenee, taught me that you must pour a great amount of olive oil on your cauliflower to make it palatable. She then proceeded to dump a quarter bottle over the cauliflower I had been given.


Irenee also like to dissect her bread. She would carefully saw the hard crusts off a slice with her knife, and then soak the piece in olive oil. Once it had been properly prepared, she would cut the slice into small pieces and use her fork to carry them to her mouth.


“Don’t you like crusts?” asked Mary.


“Bad teeth,” replied Sister Irenee. Olive oil, the antidote to dentistry.


After dinner, Mary and I sat outside the basilica, gazing out over the valley far below. La Verna is built into a cliff at the base of Mount Penna, and it is quite a drop from this aerie.


When we had checked in, earlier in the afternoon, the woman in the office had told me that the santuario (sanctuary) closed at 9:00 PM. I thought she was trying to say that the basilica, which is often referred to as the santuario in local signage, closed at 9:00. After Mary and I had taken the air, we made our way back to the outer door of the building. It was 9:05. Imagine our horror at finding the door closed and locked.


I pulled out our room key. Sometimes these keys will open interior and exterior doors. This one didn’t. It dawned on me that by “santuario” the woman had meant the entire complex. Someone, in a matter of minutes had locked the building down, and we were stranded outside.


Mary pounded on the door. Voices answered from within. We implored the unseen people to open the door.


“We can’t,” shouted the voices through the thick wood. “The door is locked and we don’t have a key. Try going around the building by the basilica and see if there is an open door.”


Oh, my goodness. It was like the parable of the bridesmaids and the oil. We had left to refill our lamps, and now we could not re-enter.


We scurried around the building. There we found that the Good Samaritans (another parable), to whom we had been speaking through the door, had found a way to get a side door open. They were holding it ajar for us.


The moral of the story? The doors close at 9:00 PM. Be in your rooms or sleep outside like St Francis.  



St Francis' Bed


Alberto, the journalist, had arranged to meet us at 10:00. He, and a friend, Gilberto, arrived a few minutes early. They had driven over in the morning from San Piero. Alberto is a reporter for Corriere Romagna, and Gilberto is one of the people who keep the Via Romea Germanica going.


In his email, Alberto said he would interview us in English, but our conversation quickly devolved into Italian. I tried to answer his questions as well as I could, but I often wondered if my answers made any sense. In any case, we had a fantastic time talking with them, and I certainly had a chance to put my Italian through its paces. After we finished our conversation, we took some snapshots of one another, then went down to the tourist restaurant for ice cream and coffee.


I was curious about how difficult I was to understand, so I asked Alberto and Gilberto about my accent. Alberto said he could understand me, but I had an American accent.  


I told him that I had been having problems with the Italian word pellegrino (pilgrim) when I spoke with people. They never quite seemed to understand what I was trying to say.


“That’s because,” explained Alberto, “when you say pellegrino (pilgrim) I hear you say pinguino (penguin).”


No wonder everyone has been so confused.



Alberto and Riccardo


We finished our conversation with our two new friends, and they departed. We spent the afternoon in a languid state. I bought an Italian book about St Francis and we lazed about reading. At 3:00 PM we went to a short church  service in which we made a procession from the basilica to the Chapel of the Stigmata.


La Verna is also famous in the annals of Franciscan history, as this is the place where Francis received his sign of identification with Christ, the stigmata. A small chapel has been built on the site of the event, and it is decorated with white terracotta panels created by the Renaissance artist Andrea della Robbia.



Terracotta Panel in the Chapel of the Stigmata


One last dinner with the nuns, during which Sister Giudita made a list of places for us to visit if we ever wanted to come to Peru, a final stroll around the grounds, and then a quick dash for the doors before the compound was locked down at 9:00 PM. Our day had been very relaxing, but it was time to return to the Via.



Sister Irenee, Mary, and Sister Giudita







Wednesday, June 26, 2019

Day 40 - Bagno di Romagna to La Verna





And so we come to the defining moment for the trip, the ascent to La Verna. The previous stage, to Bagno di Romagna was challenging, but to get across the Appennines, one must continue the climb a second day. Our goal today was to complete what is arguably the most difficult stage on the entire trip, the 1,360 meter climb to the Franciscan convent of La Verna.


Adding a little pressure into the mix was the fact that we were racing the clock. We had to reach La Verna before check-in closed at 6:30 PM. If we didn’t make it, we wouldn’t have a room. We have never taken ten hours to complete a stage, but we have not had this much mountain to climb. Moreover, our hotel in Bagno di Romagna didn't begin to serve breakfast until 8:00, so we were forced to make a late start.



The Last Dumpsters Before the Lonely Mountains


After wolfing down as many calories as we could stand, we set off at 8:30. We walked out of Bagno di Romagna on the main road, but after about a kilometer, we turned to the right and began to climb toward the collection of houses known as Gualchiere. The guidebook refers to it as a “Paleo-Industrial settlement.” I have no idea what that means. It seemed to be an interesting collection of stone houses.



A Paleo-Industrial Settlement


We passed through the Paleo-Industrial Settlement quickly, and then began to climb up a steep path away from the river. After climbing for a few minutes, the trail turned and descended back to the river.


Ouch.


Is there anything worse, on a day when you know you must climb 1,360 meters, then to have to make a false start?


The stage can be divided into four major ascents. The first, to Nasetto, takes one to roughly 800 meters above sea level. The second, to the top of Passo Serra, falls just short of the 1,200 meter mark. A third continues up through the 1,200 meter mark, and then, after a series of smaller declines and ascents, there is the final ascent of Mount Calvano, again breaking through the 1,200 meter line.


The first stage can be characterized as a brutal, steep climb up a series of slate switchbacks. At one time, a mule trail ran through here, but over the centuries, erosion has loosened many of the pavement stones, and there is very unstable footing in many places. We crawled slowly up the switchbacks for more than an hour. The valley slowly fell away beneath us.



The Old Slate Mule Path


As we reached the top of the first ascent, three cyclists on mountain bikes came flying down the path at us. Talk about a death wish. Or the urge to be emasculated by an untimely jolt from the seat.


I couldn’t believe it.



Mary of the Slates


Nasseto is a small collection of ruined stone buildings. It may have been a small farm at one time. There is an intact building which a person can evidently stay in overnight. It didn’t look that appealing.



Nasseto


Nor were the flies that were swarming over us whenever we stopped moving. One of the things that made this day particularly difficult was that we were unable to stop for a proper rest. Each time we did, the flies quickly jumped us and made sitting very uncomfortable. There was also supposed to be a water supply close to Nasseto, but we did not see it.


Onward. A short way past Nasseto,we were forced to cross an exposed shale ridge. This was a good place to step poorly on the slate and slide down the mountain to the valley below. A little further and we reached an advisory sign that warned us about the difficulties of continuing along the slippery shale ridge. The sign (and the guidebook) advised taking a detour down (giving up more elevation) and around the dangerous ridge. We did. After a long tromp through the forest, we climbed back to the main path (safely past the slippery shale) and continued to ascend toward the Passo Serra.


Again, it was a very steep, lung-shaking, heart-pounding, leg-quaking climb through the forest. It was nearly noon before we reached the Passo. Then, because we were headed for La Verna, we had to make another, third ascent.


Ultimately we found ourselves atop a narrow ridge. At some places it felt like the ridge was no wider than our trail. Nevertheless, we had fantastic views on either side, as the valleys fell away below us. We walked on the knife edge of the world.


It was very pleasant in the high country. We hiked through beech forests, admiring the twisted shapes of the trees. Some resembled blurred and twisted human faces, contorted into anguished grey shapes. The beech forest would be fairly frightening on a damp, foggy night. You can see where many European fairy tales had their start.


According to the guidebook, there was water (a sorgente) past the Passo delle Gualanciole. I had made the mistake of placing too much faith in this claim. On the previous stage I had carried three liters (six bottles) of fluids. Because the guidebook assured us there was water, I had lightened my load to four bottles for this stage. We were running low on water by the time we reached the Passo. It was hot. We needed more.


We did not find it. The sorgente was missing. There was a small creek set back from the road, but it was flowing through muddy bracken and seemed non-potable. A few hundred meters on we found a stone emblazoned with the European trail marking. A small pipe stuck out of the stone. I am assuming that this was the quasi-mythical water supply. Unfortunately, it was near dry. Drops of water flowed out of the pipe at the rate of one every three or four seconds. It would take a long time to fill our bottles at that rate.


Warning to future walkers: carry at least three liters of water (if not more). Do not assume you will be able to refill on the way.


With more tears in our eyes than water in our bottles, we headed for Mount Calvano. I had been dreading this final ascent all day. It came at the very end of the stage, a point of maximum fatigue. The last thing I wanted to face was a climb up another slate switchback.


Imagine my pleasure when the dirt road we were following began a gentle ascent and simply continued to ascend. We hiked higher and higher, and finally, were forced off onto a short path that brought us to the top of the mountain. A fairly painless ascent.


Mount Calvano is crowned by a grassy meadow. From this lofty spot we could see for what seemed like fifty miles. Mountains, valleys, and towns spread below us. I wish we had brought a picnic basket and a couple of bottles of iced prosecco to celebrate. But we hadn’t, so we didn’t linger.


We hiked down the stony path to La Verna, and in a much shorter time than we had anticipated, found our way to our evening lodging with the Franciscans. It had been another long day (eight hours), but now, the dreaded two days of difficult stages were behind us, and it was time for a well-deserved rest with the Franciscans.


Today’s distance: 24.5 KM

Total Distance: 836.4 KM