Photo credit Andrea Faggi & Alessandro Brucini

At its heart, the journey of each life is a pilgrimage, through unforeseen sacred places that enlarge and enrich the soul. ~ John O’ Donohue

Tomorrow I leave. My second pilgrimage calls and it will be through beautiful Italy. I will place my feet on the medieval route, The Via Francigena, first mentioned in a parchment of 876 AD in the Abbey Of San Salvatore at Monte Amiata in Tuscany.

What makes this trip incredibly special is that I will be accompanied by my parents for the first 9 days. What makes it even more exciting is that we will be joined by Sylvie, my dearest French Canadian friend I made on the El Camino de Santiago de Compostela last year. We will start in the Swiss Alps below the Great San Bernard Pass and walk to Rome. We have 34 days to walk so will be forced to omit some stages of the journey, which include the rice fields in the Po Valley. It will be a good compromise. All going well, we will reach the Vatican City in Rome on time as a point of celebration, much the same as arriving in Santiago, like we did last year.

I feel so very lucky to be on pilgrimage again as an adventurer and spiritual explorer, taking time out of my busy routine. I have the most amazing, supportive family and loving husband who encourages me to follow lucid dreams which can lead to ancient, fragrant paths and villages in Italy! Being on Camino is a wild dream. You cannot know it till you do it. It marks you and claims a seat in your soul. You sit differently in the world. For me it’s a reminder and refresher to live in awe and wonder. To have purpose. So come walk with me, and watch another journey unfold…

Some history of the Via Francigena 

The considered starting point of the VF is in the English cathedral city of Canterbury, passing through England, France, Switzerland and Italy, ending in Rome. The route was known in Italy as the “Via Francigena” – “the road that comes from France”. Pilgrims took this route to visit the tombs of apostles Peter and Paul.

Sigeric the Serious, the Archbishop of Canterbury used the Via Francigena to travel to and from Rome, recording his route. He only documented his return journey, consisting of 80 stages and averaging about 20km a day for a total of 1700 km.

The Via Francigena comprises several routes that changed over the centuries, dictated by trade and pilgrimage. Unlike Roman roads, the VF did not connect cities, but relied more on Abbeys – monasteries and convents. About 1200 pilgrims a year make this pilgrimage.

GREAT ST BERNARD’S PASS 28TH AUGUST

Just reaching a Camino starting point is often a feat in itself. Today culminated in two days of planes, midnight layovers, buses and a privately organised lift with local village resident Sergio after missing the last bus to a snow-flecked Great St Bernard Pass.  We could have kissed Sergio who the local shop owner called to our rescue. For a fee he drove us the last 10km up a winding pass which we thought we may have to walk!

We are exhausted but thrilled to be wrapped in fresh alpine air and high peaks which smack of adventure. We are staying in the hospice (founded in 1049) and famous for its use of St Bernard dogs in rescue operations. It has traces of a Roman road and in 1800 Napoleon’s army used the pass to enter Italy.

It’s been a perfect place to start with international pilgrims and hikers milling in abundance and all joining in the traditional three-course meal at lively communal tables tonight. Tomorrow Sylvie and I are back-tracking to Bourg St Pierre to start walking and will catch up with my parents who will start from GSP so we can all end the day in Echevennoz.

What an amazing reunion for Sylvie and I today after our big walk through Spain last year! My parents felt like they already knew her after being subjected to all my Camino tales this past year, so we’re all set for big fun.

Tomorrow the two of us are hitting the road early, and hitchhiking to our starting point. Cheeky Pellegrini. Wish us luck.

FIRST DAY…MOUNTAIN SPECTACULAR 29TH AUGUST

Our first night in Switzerland, nestled in the alps at 2473 metres was a challenge. The dormitory room was hot with no air flow, we felt jet lagged and we all had headaches. But not letting that slow us out of the starting blocks, we were up at dawn, rustling and preparing our backpacks for the day. And WHAT A FIRST DAY! At breakfast we learnt that Winter snowfall obscures the first floor of the hospice and it can’t be reached by vehicles. 

Bill and Olivia first set off for Echevennoz and Sylvie and I prepared to hitchhike to Bourg St Pierre with daypacks so we could start our walk on one of the most beautiful and history-laden sections. But despite a sign made for us by Tony the bar man, the few cars that passed didn’t give us a second look. We ditched the idea and decided to walk there and bus back so we could at least experience the route. An absolutely stunning walk of slightly snowy and soaring mountain peaks, wildflowers, passing cows, rivulets of water and wild raspberries to snack on. We were quite euphoric as we took on the steep, stony paths, jutting over sheer ledges and reminisced over last year’s  Camino, and now this…The walk was a challenge – 12km took 4 hours to walk! We finally rested our shaky legs over lunch at Bourg St Pierre. Once on the bus and down the road, we realised we hadn’t got our pilgrim credentials stamped. (This sets you up to qualify for a testimonium in Rome.) The obliging busdriver turned back for us. Sylvie has an undoubted gift and incredible skill for getting our requests met. Not to mention how effortlessly she engages people. She has definitely come to teach me a few things! So there we were on this spectacular first day running into a surprising amount of pilgrims considering this is a lesser known pilgrimage or route. The Via Francigena has exceeded my expectations so far. 

Bill and Olivia in the meantime loved their walk despite a wrong turn that cost them an hour, but also found the descent from the pass to Aosta Valley very challenging. Sylvie and I got to re-experience this in the afternoon when we walked their route. Our legs and feet are sore. We have literally walked up and down mountains on our first day. And Rome seems like a distant vision. 

TO AOSTA, AND THE REAL JOURNEY CALLED LIFE

The real journey we make is the one called life. And at this present moment it has taken us off this beautiful Via Francigena path to attend to my father who had to have emergency treatment for a heart condition last night in a hospital in Aosta. It’s been a rough 12 hours of meeting love head on, eyes wide open. Love for my Dad and the desperate need to say, I love you. Witnessing the deep love between my Mom and Dad. The love of my friend Sylvie, sticking with us defiantly.

None of us ever really know what lies ahead, how many times we will place our feet on this achingly beautiful planet, to walk a while and share it with other happy souls. But we can be certain it is profoundly rich and moving. Up and down.

I am so grateful for the last two days on the Via Francigena with my Mom and Dad. We have shared so much. The wonder of pilgrimage. Wandering through a bit of Italy. Picking fruit off trees, laughing, stopping for coffee. Homemade meals and real people in little villages. Joy.

Thank you for being here a while. For wishing us well. My Mom wants you all to know this too. My Dad is doing well. Keep us in your prayers as we take this on.

Much love and gratitude
Darene
x

STEPS – TO CHATILLON AND VERRÉS SEPTEMBER 4TH

All you have to do is to pay attention; lessons always arrive when you are ready, and if you can read the signs, you will learn everything you need to know in order to take the next step.
~ Paul Coehlo

Thank you for all your kind wishes of care and concern. They are so appreciated. My Dad is now safely out of intensive care after a heart attack, which took us completely by surprise. My parents are preparing for an extended stay in Italy for my Dad to most likely undergo surgery before he can safely fly home. It has been a shock to say the least. So here we are based in Aosta till we know more and my Dad recovers. We can only thank our lucky stars this didn’t happen in the air, en route, or in the Swiss mountains where we were hiking. By chance we made it to the most charming town of Aosta and happen to be in one of the best cardiology hospitals in the country. The warmth exuded by the hospital staff has been wonderful to experience at such a vulnerable moment. Italians rate highly in our estimation right now! We have got to know this town well – the route to the hospital from our Pellegrino accommodation, where they have looked after us, walks through the old town with all its history and little restaurants. We’ve kissed the old fort wall for luck, we’ve prayed in the old church. We’ve revisited the restaurant to thank the chef that came to assist my Dad into a taxi that night, and my Mom has sweetened the nurses’ day with thank you cakes. We call them my Dad’s Italian angels as he can’t believe how kindly they fuss over and care for him. We knew he was recovering when he started asking for the latest USA Open tennis results! Such is the craziness of life. My Dad keeps insisting Sylvie and I keep walking so we found a way of doing it the last two days by walking the full legs of our route and then bussing back to Aosta to see him and have dinner with my Mom. It’s an emotional, topsy turvy time, but we have so much to be thankful for, so many moments. An Italian nonna stroking my Dad’s feet and sharing her husband’s health story, Sylvie’s tireless help and enthusiasm, my Mom’s super-charged determination. My Dad’s signature positivity. Our frailty and our strength.

And so we stepped back on the Via Francigena, with my Dad’s blessing and a new little Aosta heart souvenir dangling from my backpack. Aosta to Chatillon. Chatillon to Verres. Up and down hills, past medieval castles, villages, amongst wild thyme and rosemary. Back to Aosta each time. Stepping away and stepping towards. Losing and finding reality. Love biting. The next steps are uncertain but those steps we must take, in one direction or another.

VERRES TO PONT ST MARTIN 5TH AUGUST

It is in the wild places, where the edge of the earth meets the corners of the sky, the human spirit is fed.
~ Art Wolfe

Yesterday we walked from Verrés to Pont St Martin amongst a feast of castles, medieval bridges, churches and vineyards. The town of Bard was a standout. The bridge dated back to 1200 where taxes were collected in 1272. (Nothing much has changed!)

We passed the Romanesque style church of San Martino in the village Arnad-Le-Vieux, the exterior datable to the early 15th century and posed for photos.

It was so calming to follow a gentle gradient, unlike all previous days. We walked beside the jade-blue River Dora a while, passed vineyards with fat grapes, ate figs, crushed wild thyme and stopped for cappuccino at a pilgrim-friendly restaurant, which is a rarity here, compared to Spain.

At the medieval Echallod bridge we met a group of friends from Paris who take to the Via Francigena every year together for 10 days.

We ended our 20km day by grabbing a sandwich and sparkling water at the train station, just making the next train to Aosta, which flew past our gentle walk at high speed. We went straight to the hospital to visit my Dad who was in good spirits. Another day in Italy ended with dinner and a glass of Proseco in the fashionable, bustling old village.

PONT ST MARTIN TO IVREA 6TH AUGUST

Today I will walk out, today everything evil will leave me,
I will be as I was before, I will have a cool breeze over my body.
I will have a light body, I will be happy forever,
nothing will hinder me.
I walk with beauty before me. I walk with beauty behind me.
I walk with beauty below me. I walk with beauty above me.
I walk with beauty around me. My words will be beautiful.

In beauty all day long may I walk.
Through the returning seasons, may I walk.
On the trail marked with pollen may I walk.
With dew about my feet, may I walk.

With beauty before me may I walk.
With beauty behind me may I walk.
With beauty below me may I walk.
With beauty above me may I walk.
With beauty all around me may I walk.

In old age wandering on a trail of beauty,
lively, may I walk.
In old age wandering on a trail of beauty,
living again, may I walk.
My words will be beautiful.

Navajo Chant. Blessing Way Ceremony

NAVARO 8TH AUGUST

The Camino provides. That is the saying. And this one keeps on giving. Yesterday my Mom, Sylvie and I checked out of our Aosta accommodation where we had passed a week. What a week. We said tearful goodbyes to our Italian hosts and their parrot. Thank you Hotel Caminetto and Aosta for holding us in your soft embrace. My Mom jumped into the ambulance, loaded with backpacks, transporting my Dad to a clinic in Navaro where he will undergo surgery next week. Sylvie and I hopped on a bus which dropped us on a busy highway. Intrepid pilgrims that we are, we navigated 40 minutes on foot towards the clinic. We found my Dad in great spirits as usual, excited to note a small wine bar across the road. He’s avidly planning his exit adventures in Novara, which he had already googled before arrival. William Rothschild is adept at finding life’s gifts. When we get home we are to intensify our family get togethers with extra gusto, he informs us. He likes to call it Shabbat. He has watched the Italian families communing in the hospital and it has lit a fire.

In the meantime, my Mom has been whisked off by a male nurse to the stately convent across the road where she will be accommodated. Paul then leads her to the old city to book a restaurant for us for dinner. Saint Paul or what? Unless you were a local you would not know from the exterior that this is a restaurant. We turn up later to a full house and get offered a signature dish that the kitchen has in surplus before our orders arrive. Our waitress regards Novara to be a city that God has forgotten. No big attractions. She also says it is protected by Saint Gaudenzio, the name of our clinic. I’m guessing it’s going to be divinely unforgettable.

THE GREAT PO RIVER CROSSING WITH DANILO 10TH AUGUST

If the path before you is clear, you’re probably on someone else’s.

~ Joseph Campbell The Hero’s Journey

We said goodbye to my parents yesterday to take off on the Via Francigena again, without our usual return by train in the evenings. We decided not to miss out on the iconic ferry trip across the Po River with Danilo. We rang him for a 1pm ride after a train delay and a hot one hour walk from Orio Litta to the middle of nowhere. Relief, he was waiting and had two pilgrims aboard from Czech Republic. This was an absolute highlight. On the other side of the river he babbled in Italian about a cultural tour and proceeded to show us the famous VF icon, Sigeric’s “footprint”, chiding us with a stick when we couldn’t answer his questions. He walked us to his home for a stamp and to sign his huge register of escorted pilgrims. His garden was a wonderland, the experience not to be missed and another tick of approval for the VF.

We walked to the road, anxious to fast track our VF to Cassio but had to settle for Fornovo instead. Danilo’s neighbour, Mannuela, came whizzing past, stopped to check on us, which was our opportunity to get a lift To Piacenza. She dropped us on the outskirts which meant another hour of walking to the train station to get to Fornovo Di Taro. Once there, we spent the night in the parish church accommodation for €10. Soon we were joined by a young Belgian couple, British and Swiss man. Dinner was across the road and it was another faultless pizza. Oh Italia, not sure if I’ll lose any weight on this Camino!

FORNOVO TO CASSIO

Fornovo Di Taro to Cassio. We left at dawn in golden light, walking for 2 hours before we ached for coffee. Finally it came in the tiniest village where we joined a room of ladies gathered for their Saturday morning outing. It was the best cappuccino so far. We ordered two and were soon joined by Christian, the Swiss walker. We shared a chocolate and creme-filled croissant. We continued to tackle 25 unbelievable kilometres in terms of gradient. Up and up and up it went. It felt like mountain climbing. The overwhelming consensus is that the Via Francigena is considerably more difficult than the Camino de Santiago across Spain, and I can agree. It took 6-7 hours of walking. I dipped my head under a fountain for relief. Christian stopped to eat his packed lunch. I went ahead, picking an apple from the pilgrim orchard and later on a pear. Big lunches are mostly out as full stomachs hinder hard afternoon walking.

I walked ahead into Cassio and booked us into the quirky Ostello for £16 each, with sweeping views. By 4pm clothes were washed, we were showered and sitting outside Cassio’s one restaurant sipping a Proseco beside the men of the village, playing a serious game of cards. Christian joined us and Danny from London came striding past into town, trying to decide whether to press on and put up his tent further on, or stay at the Ostello. Dinner was tagliatelle funghi and a insalade mixte of the freshest succulent tomatoes doused in olive oil and balsamic vinegar. Just another day on Camino, enjoying the simple pleasures in life.

INSIGHTS ON THE PATH
Cassio to Passa Della Cissa.

~ Walking is entering a labyrinth, to know the dark, to choose the light.

~ The constant rhythm of placing one foot in front of the other takes us to a depth where we may choose to see ourselves for who we are.

~ Others we meet on the road hold a mirror up for us to see ourselves and to choose what we may keep, improve or slay.

~ Soulsteps take you straight to what and who you love.

~ Life is framed with each seeing step. A visual surprise or an encounter opens the heart wider. Gratitude guilds the picture.

~ I love stories. I look for them on the path, in people – in anticipation till they explode forth with some truth-like nourishment to feed the soul.

~ Every day is different. Some are sweet and gentle. Some are euphoric. Some are hard and you wonder what you are doing here.

Yesterday took me into deep thought. It was a day of feeling vulnerable. I walked with Sylvie and Christian (a married, retired school teacher) and alone. We passed pretty Castellonchio and stopped in beautiful Berceto for a hearty sandwich with prosciutto from the region. We added an avocado from the boutique fruit shop. Christian arrived late and ordered an Americano and gelato. Walking medicine. A once-a-year procession of Madonna Della Guardia happened right before us. Village people paraded a golden Madonna down the street. We visited the church.

Back on the path we meandered through wooded paths to complete the day’s walk. A 22km day ended at an Ostello in the middle of nowhere. I discovered Sandy and Paul, an English couple who are doing the Via Francigena in stages over five years. Sandy and I recognised each other from the VF Facebook page! We enjoyed a three-course pilgrim dinner with three others, served by a raucous chef, with a fire crackling in the hearth that turned our cheeks pink. Lots of Camino insights are braided in Italian, French and English.

There is no better environment than on Camino to get straight to the point. You share the path, the passion, you are all seekers, and you may not get the chance to elaborate tomorrow.

HELLO TUSCANY!

You must live in the present, launch yourself on every wave, find your eternity in each moment. Fools stand on their island opportunities and look toward another land. There is no other land; there is no other life but this, or the like of this. I wish to live ever as to derive my satisfactions and inspirations from the commonest events, everyday phenomena, so that what my senses hourly perceive, my daily walk, the conversation of my neighbors, may inspire me, and I may dream of no heaven but that which lies about me.

~ Henry David Thoreau

What a wonderful day, entering Tuscany! We skipped breakfast, left at dawn and climbed hills. It was hypnotic, through beautiful forests. We passed through tiny villages looking for any sign of food and drink. At 11am I decided to ask a lady in her garden if we could pay her for a cup of coffee. She was drying funghi in her garden. She refused money and returned with a tray of espresso. Ecstasy! We thanked her profusely. We also discovered that there was a Trattoria 1km down the road. We never realised the “down” was way, way down but had already started walking. This is hilly Tuscany, after all. We ordered huge paninis with fromaggio, prosciutto and tomato then sat in the sun in a blissful stupor, putting off the walk back up the hill to get back on track. Then Sylvie hatched the idea to join the VF cycle path along the road, confirming that it was quite flat. What genius. We saved our knackered knees and marched along the relatively quiet road, lined with arching trees. As we passed locals at a roadside cafe we each shouted a “Bonjourno!” and that we were walking to Rome. Yes, that’s us. They smiled and shook their heads, sipping their drinks.

Our accommodation was kindly booked by Christian in a Pontremoli B&B. It is a town full of history, character and wedged between two rivers. We decided a change from Ostellos would be nice. It is an utterly charming stone building for £30 each including breakfast. A persimmon, walnut and fig tree fill the garden. A young man came to settle us in and showed us a large common room set up for breakfast, where we will help ourselves before setting off for Aulla. A challenging 32km walk is in our sights, and we hear we will catch glorious sight of the distant sea.

AULLA – LOST AND FOUND

Lost and found. Pontremoli to Aulla.
32 km, 10 hours of walking, medieval Roman roads, two swims and Sylvie gets lost.

It was a long day. I found a flowing stream to swim in and later a small waterfall to cool off. Both times I lost my hair tie, and then I lost Sylvie. Three things. The VF is a quiet Camino so after waiting 30 minutes and no whatsapp call, I started to worry. Felipe from Italy came walking by, also starting from Pontremoli and said he had definitely not seen a Signora. I continued to Aulla, summoned Christian, who was enjoying a beer in town near the end of our walk. I was ready to call the police when Sylvie called to say a local had sent her on a detour and “shortcut” through the bush. She finally arrived towards 7pm scratched and bloodied from her unintended bushwalk. Relief. It was not unlike losing each other on the Camino de Santiago for a night and day!

We stayed in the Abbazia Di San Caprasio in Aulla which dates back to the year one thousand. Aulla is one of the oldest places of hospitality and prayer on the Via Francigena. Between 990 and 994 Sigerico, the Archbishop Of Canterbury was in Aulla. His abbey already contained the Saint Caprasio relics which came from Provence.

We met a French lady in the Abbazia who is doing the VF by bus. She leaves each day in her hiking gear with her backpack. Her legs can’t handle the walking anymore but her heart leads her on.

AULLA TO SARZANA – A SOUL IN WONDER

“I’m a soul in wonder… I’m a soul in wonder… I’m a soul in wonder,” Van Morrison chants. It’s the finest description of the pilgrim I know.

~ Phil Coussineau

I am a soul in wonder. This is the pilgrim song. To set out each day with nothing but beauty and a destination in mind is such a privilege. To commune with nature and whoever crosses your path. To open your mind to all possibility. What wonder it is.

One of the ancient functions of pilgrimage is to wake us from our slumber, says Phil Cousineau in The Art of Pilgrimage. He calls it the art of waking up.

We left Aulla after an early Italian breakfast of coffee and croissants at a nearby cafe that was open at 6.30am for pilgrims. Just €2.
No doubt I was physically awake today. I was soon climbing to Bibola and eventually to 500 metres. Sweat dripped, my quads ached.

At Ponzano we excitedly came upon the view to the sea and La Spezia, where beyond, the exquisite Cinque Terre lies. We were halfway on our 22km leg and found the only cafe about to open for refreshments. This is where Christian departed and we said our goodbyes.

Sylvie and I made our way down the dirt road towards Sarzana when a man pulled into a driveway and asked if we were “the Canadians”. He had his nose to the ground! We introduced ourselves to Michael, who is a Dutch man and retired biologist living in Italy and producing 1000 litres of wine a year. He gave us a bunch of spray free merlot grapes each for the road, first offering the pros and cons of wine production and living in Italy. An hour further along a man tending a vineyard gave us each a bunch of green grapes.

The distance between Sylvie and I grew in the afternoon, and before long I took a wrong turn while on a call to Australia. I followed my location on the VF app noticing my phone battery dying. I hastened along to our B&B accommodation just in time, where Sylvie was waiting.

What bliss to shower and wash our clothes. Sarzana awaited. Soon we were in the town square drinking Proseco and sharing pizza and seafood spaghetti. Just another day of wonder, exploring the art of pilgrimage.

TO THE SEA AND MASSA

It’s morning, and again I am that lucky person who is in it.

~ Mary Oliver

Today we reached the sea!

We arrived after walking from Sarzana to Luni and then veering off the VF to the beach. It was a significant milestone to plunge into the Mediterranean Sea at the approximate halfway mark in our journey, after walking 350km. Sylvie felt quite emotional. The water was cool and salty. We celebrated with seafood lunch at a beachside restaurant.

At times today we wondered if people thought we were homeless bag ladies. Then we were surprised when someone shouted out excitedly: “to Roma?”

After today’s 30km walk to Massa, tonight we are on a train to Novara to be with my Mom while my Dad has heart surgery. We will take a few days off to be with my family. Sylvie is such a wonderful friend. She is steadfastly on this journey with me, through all its detours.

BIG LOVE. THANK YOU ITALY

If each day falls
inside each night,
there exists a well
where clarity is imprisoned.

We need to sit on the rim
of the well of darkness
and fish for fallen light
with patience.

~ Pablo Neruda

Success. I type this word with such happiness. Relief that it has found us and I can use it.

My Dad’s surgery has been a great success.

We are slowly finding our way out and forward into the light. We have wrapped ourselves in each other. A Mom, her daughters, a friend. Held strong by Novara, Italy. Expertly. Heartfelt. Thank you. Family and friends feeling from far. Sitting with and felling fear, nerves. Finding hope to step on. Riding love. This life that pulls us away and towards meaning and ourselves. One step at a time. That’s what we do.

Italy has sewn big bits of love into all our hearts and we are so grateful.

The journey will go on.

SIENA SPECTACULAR

The mind can go in a thousand directions, but on this beautiful path, I walk in peace. With each step, the wind blows. With each step, a flower blooms.

~ Nhat Hanh

Siena spectacular and 12 days to Rome.

We started back on the path to Rome today with a 29km walk from Siena to Pont D’Arbia.

Today was tough on the body, launching into a full day of walking after a five-day break. We slept in Siena the night before in the Ostello Santa Maria Della Scala (for €19), opposite the Duomo Cathedral, a Gothic church built after 1215 and filled with treasures by Pisano, Donatello and Michelangelo. It was breathtaking. We dined out next to the church.

This morning, it took us an hour to make our way out of this astonishingly beautiful medieval world heritage listed city, winding through its heart, the famous Piazza Del Campo, where Roman forums used to take place. Awe-struck is the word and the feeling.

Off we went, moving over the gentle, dreamy hills of Tuscany, looking back again and again to see Siena dwarfing. It was three hours before we found breakfast at a small cafe and two cups of cappuccino each.

More open spaces unfolded in browns and greens. Iconic lines of conifers came into view and each time, I sighed at the beauty and that I was planting my feet here. I thought of how these intense moments will be visitors in weeks, months and years to come. That’s what a Camino does. Stomp in loveliness enough and it is offered back in vivid hues at random times.

By 4pm we found our accommodation in a renovated historic bridge house which used to contain a water mill. The price is €20 each with our own private bathroom and breakfast is included. On asking, the young Chantal happily took our sweaty clothes away to pop in her washing machine. Dinner will be at the end of the bridge in the village restaurant at 7pm. A glass of happiness, that is Proseco, awaits.

TO SAN QUIRICO

Happy birthday to me…and 26km from Pont D’Arbia to San Quirico.

We left Pont D’Arbia at 7.30am after breakfast with Italian cyclists, Stefano and Patricia. Stepping out into thick mist, it was as if we were between worlds and time had stood still. The only constant was our walking. Step after step. A goal in mind but fluid acceptance of what may lie ahead to change it. Surrender. In surrendering we are free.

And so I thought about the amazing concept of surrender today as I surrendered to the length of my journey, my personal circumstances, difficulties on the path and a myriad of thoughts that came and went. I am reading a book called “Letting Go” and it resonates with my work as a FasterEFT practitioner. Psychiatrist, Dr David Hawkins advocates acceptance and the constant release of negative feelings as moving towards freedom. I also love Kyle Cease’s evolution exercise of identifying your fears and then tagging on the line, “and I love that”, as ultimate acceptance.

This may not be a textbook Camino, and I love that.

I may never get to Rome as planned, and I love that.

I may never be the perfect writer, and I love that.

I may never be the best Mother, daughter, wife and I love that.

I may not sleep well tonight on the top of a double bunk bed with snoring pilgrims, and I love that.

It’s about accepting stuff, yourself with all your imperfections and letting go of tormenting thoughts.

It was a beautiful day, really. Sylvie treated me to a birthday coffee and croissant at our first stop in Buonconvento. A long, hot walk followed through wine lands and a visit to a winery for a sip of the local vintage. Finally we reached Torrenieri for a tasty late lunchtime panini with fromaggio, tomato and basil. I had a birthday cappuccino and a sliver of traditional spicy Siena cake.

We reached San Quirico by 5pm and checked into the ancient Ostello Parrochiale at the church, which dates back to the 8th century. Several pilgrims were there already. Three Spanish ladies, a French and a German man, all walking to Rome from different starting points. We immediately launched into several languages and Camino comparisons with our well-versed friends. We stretched, showered, washed clothes and considered tomorrow’s route.

Sylvie and I left to explore enigmatic San Quirico, strolling through historic gardens then settling on a restaurant with a view of the old church to complete my birthday fun. We could picture ourselves in 10 days time with a view of the Colosseum, all going to plan. Not forgetting, of course, that it’s ultimately all about surrender.

SAN QUIRICO TO RADICOFONI

Today was marked as very challenging in the official Via Francigena guide, and that it was. Our full room of seven pilgrims burst into life at 6am to tackle the 35 km from San Quirico to Radicofani, with long stretches of open countryside. Someone’s alarm went off at 4.30am and kept repeating. The joys. A cafe was open by 6am and we poured in for coffee.

We pulsed into beautiful Val D’Orcia and it’s views, passing through Vignoni Alta then Bagno Vignoni, an upmarket village with old fashioned thermal pools pitched for its healing properties. One of the Spanish girls leaned over the side and gave us all splashes of water.

There would be nothing but nature after this unless you take a small detour. So by lunchtime Sylvie and I found each other and veered off the path to Gallina for a panini and acqua frizzante. The rest of the day was long, hard walking. Radicofani is set on a hill and the walk went up and up. A shower of rain left me drenched and I entered the town like a drowned rat as all the locals were coming out of church and having a drink. One of the Spanish girls hitched a lift during the afternoon and so did the German lady towards the end.

At our donativo (donation of generally €10) accommodation, the historical Ospitale dei Santi Pietro e Giacomo, we met another pilgrim, Willy, from Switzerland. We all collected outside in the piazza for dinner, quickly forgetting the arduous task of getting there. Tonight Sylvie and I have the luxury of our own room. Simple pleasures.

RADICOFONI TO AQUAPENDENTE

It was my life—like all lives, mysterious and irrevocable and sacred. So very close, so very present, so very belonging to me.
How wild it was, to let it be.

~ Cheryl Strayed

So what is it, this seductive life on foot, moving across a land? This is how five of us talked at dinner tonight in the village of Acquapendente after a 25km day of vagabonding through Italy. It is something slightly different for everyone. There’s the quiet contemplation, space, connection to people and place. The common goal, the undeniable magic. Some have come to find, solve or mend something and some don’t even know it. Some are meeting themselves and discovering the joy of being after years of routine. The physical seems inextricably linked. It’s a bit like trying to define the enchantment of life. And pilgrims are up for this discussion every time. Yes, it’s a great adventure, but it’s so much more. Maybe through this journey we just get that bit closer to loving the enigma that is life, with all its amazing offerings. One Camino truth – it’s a moveable feast; you take it with you everywhere.

The first delight this morning was early on as we prepared to leave Radicofani. We stopped in at a small grocery shop to prepare for the possibility of not finding food along the way, which can happen along the VF. Shop owner Fernando vacuum-packed his special salad for us and rushed out to pick fresh tomatoes and basil from his garden out back for our bespoke paninis. I also bought a packet of biscotti for a change from my usual croissant.

The route was not the greatest due to a section of busy road in the middle with traffic shooting past. Only Stefano and Manuela opted for the variant route, which was much more beautiful but added 8km onto the day. Sylvie and I made several stops today. One for coffee in Ponte A Rigo, another in Centeno for acqua frizzante and to eat our packed salad and paninis. The last one was for a gelato and more water. While eating lunch an 18th birthday unfolded around us and a glamorous party of people surrounded us. I sighed at glitzy outfits and high heels, and left quickly, feeling that extra bit grubby.

A highlight along the path was finding what appeared to be a derelict home, inscribed with the year 1689. We peeped curiously through the windows at furniture and antique trinkets, imagining what we could make of it.

On arrival in Acquapendente we missed out on accommodation at La Casa Del Pellegrino. It was full and we weren’t used to being turned away. After fretting a bit we noticed a nice restaurant around the corner offering rooms called Il Borgo. In no time we had a small but sweet room and bathroom to ourselves including breakfast for €27 each. We also recognised two Danish women, Marianne and Elina, doing a week of the VF with a tour company, from Radicofani. A dinner date was soon set at the restaurant downstairs. This was preceded by a crisp Proseco in the village piazza beside the local folk. As we walked back for dinner we bumped into Willy who decided to join us for dinner, making it a small table of four nations. And soon the discussion began: So what is it, this seductive life on foot, moving across a land?

ACQUAPENDENTE TO BOLSENA

Nothing behind me, everything ahead of me, as is ever so on the road.

~ Jack Kerouac

Eight days to Rome and water, water, everywhere. 

Today we walked 24 km from Acquapendente to the vast Lake Bolsena, Europe’s largest volcanic lake, with a circumference of 43km. We stopped for a cappuccino after about two hours in San Lorenzo Nuovo. Towards the end of the town a cyclist started chatting and remembered Sylvie’s name at one of the previous church accommodations. He is also from Quebec and was convinced he’d eventually come across her! 

Forest paths, olive groves and gorgeous views of the lake defined the rest of the route. By 2.30pm we were in the beautiful town and checked into the Casa Di Preghere Santa Cristina in the old city for €11. We were delighted to find a washing machine. Before long our feet were planted in the dark volcanic sand on the shores of the lake and we plunged into the cool water where we floated and stretched. 

We ate dinner in a restaurant on the lakeside beach, toes in the sand, watching the sun set and listening to the water lap the shore. An enchanting ending to the day. 

LAKE BOLSENA TO MONTEFIASCONI

We are snugly in bed as the only guests at the sweet and orderly Convento Divino Amore tonight in Montefiascone, on a hilltop overlooking the southern end of Lake Bolsena. The convent of Divine Love is run by nuns who just served us a three-course dinner in a cosy dining room. It has put stars in our eyes. We feel like we have just had the most unique experience, unlikely to ever be repeated. But that just sums up what it is to be on Camino and here on the Via Francigena in beautiful Italy. Unrepeatable experiences. You start to feel like the luckiest person on Earth. 

Divine and love sums up today. But it didn’t begin that way. Of course it doesn’t, you have to work your way into it. 

We left Bolsena (in the Lazio region) late, at about 8am, with only 18km to walk on today’s leg to Montefiascone. It was lovely – through olive groves, past small waterfalls and historic landmarks of Etruscan ruins from between the 4th and 6th centuries. We learnt the volcanic crater that created Lake Bolsena dates back to Neanderthal man. We came across and rested with Annetta from Germany at a picnic table and met another young German girl walking alone. Annetta taught us how to say “arschloch” properly – deep and guttural! We sang “Let’s hit the road Jack” and picked rosemary sprigs to adorn our backpacks. We click-clacked our walking poles up and down hills, breathing hard and patting sweat. We picked and ate figs. 

I decided my backpack (I have called it Roma) has taken on a life of its own. She becomes as sweaty and organic as me. She creaks and groans when she is tired. When she’s had enough she grows heavier, making my shoulders ache, begging me to stop. We tussle with each other, but we are a fine team. We need each other; we both want to get to Rome and then home again. It’s a divine relationship born of the Camino. 

So we made our way to Montefiascone where we celebrated the big pilgrim milestone – 100km left to Rome. I lost sight of Sylvie for a while, then found her and we decided to have lunch in the town before choosing accommodation. We tried the famous wine, Est! Est!! Est!!! The story goes that a bishop who was on a pilgrimage to Rome sent his runner ahead of him to write the word “est” (Latin for “it is”) on the door of any inn in which the wine was good. In Montefiascone, the wine was so good that the runner wrote “Est Est Est” on the door of the inn (the exclamation points were added much later for effect). It’s said that after the bishop arrived, he forgot his pilgrimage and stayed there enjoying the fine wine until his death.

After finding beds at the Convento Divino Amore after lunch, we set our hearts on an afternoon lulling at the nearby natural thermal sulphur-rich springs, volcanic in origin, in Bagnacchio. This would be perfect therapy for our tired bodies, but how to get there? Two ladies in the square tried to direct us to a bus and we ended up laughing so hard at all our animated hand and body gestures making up for broken English and Italian. Further along we asked at a bar. A man called Bruno offered to drive us there and we jumped at the offer. The 15-minute ride was full of attempted understanding of who he was and who we were. On arrival he gave us his number, insisting we call him before calling a taxi to return, as he might just be available. An hour later, feeling duly revived by the hot springs, we did just that, and before long Bruno was there and driving us back to the convent, doing an errand en route. Back in town, he shot to the top of the hill and insisted we dash in to see the prized Basilica Santa Margherita, which has the third biggest dome after St Peters in Rome and the cathedral in Florence. He proudly hooted greetings to friends roadside as we drove up the tiny streets and they looked twice at his unfamiliar blonde passengers. 

We hugged our gentle Italian friend and gentleman goodbye and tried to pay him for the ride. He flatly refused. Sylvie shed a tear at the kindness in an afternoon that made our fun possible. I vowed to pay it forward. 

We made our way into the Convento Divino Amore. How divine and lovely can a day possibly get?

MONTEFIASCONI TO VITERBO

Not I, nor anyone else can travel that road for you. You must travel it by yourself. It is not far. It is within reach. Perhaps you have been on it since you were born, and did not know. Perhaps it is everywhere – on water and land.

~ Walt Whitman

This is the journey within the journey. The walk through woods and the walk through life. What will you take home with you? It’s all up to you. The journey goes on. A few days left to Rome.

Yesterday we walked 18km from Montefiascone and through the gates of Viterbo, an ancient city full of history. We watched the famous Montefiascone basilica fade into the distance. We passed by the sulphur pools we had bathed in the day before. We passed a few pilgrims, one an older man with broken shoes. We skipped over the ancient paving of Via Cassia. How many feet before us? A cold wind blew.

Sylvie and I talked and talked. It passed the time perfectly. We love our chats and they grow bigger as we walk. We expand our observations and ideas. We always come back to essentials. Love. Family. Friends. Big heart. Big life.

We read a bad review about an Ostello and bed bugs which made us indecisive as to where to stay. After lunch in a little piazza and rejecting a B&B due to a creepy owner, we found La Torre Mozza, an old city tower of three floors all to ourselves with a view over rooftops. Another strange owner.

We lost ourselves in a maze of cobbled streets, feeling the city. We always feel the place we go. This one had a different feeling. We looked for the sun and found it in a raised piazza looking out to the city’s famed Duomo church. We then stumbled on a movie set and watched a while. The night ended in a small wine bar with tasty pizza. We slept in our tower, listening to the sounds of the night. I journeyed in my dreams.

VITERBO TO VETRALLA

I can sense the end is near. Like the smell of ripe grapes on Tuscan vines. You are sure you can smell it in the air. My heart knows it. I suddenly know how far I’ve come, all those towns ago. All those village churches and all those steps I’ve made on paths. What’s flowed through me. I’ve walked enough to notice how the food changes across miles yet the men of the village still sit together and commune. The weather has begun to shift. I’ve strengthened this body and mind, and gathered my gifts to take home and grow my life bigger. I know a friend’s love. The love between my parents that makes me melt. The love in me. The richness of this very moment. Everything has changed in a month, and nothing has. My Dad is in his final stage of recovery. It’s a happy ending. We are taking Italy home with us.

When we reached the Monastero Regina Pacis this afternoon it brought back the memory of arriving at an Aosta Ostello with my Mom and Dad, two days into joyous walking together, with no inkling my Dad would be in hospital that night. When I told Sylvie where my thoughts had gone we both cried spontaneously up to the monastery door. A nun opened and gazed at us.

18km later we are here with six pilgrims. The nuns cooked a lovely dinner for us tonight. Life is good and holy. But I have a confession to make. Tomorrow we are skipping a day of walking and catching a bus past the next leg, to start in Sutri. You see, Sylvie and I have decided we would like an extra day in Rome. We have come a long way to be here not to linger longer and enjoy the sights of incredible Rome. So that’s it, no more rules. Life is too short. Saturday we sashay into Rome, just how we’d like to. Exuberantly. Our way.

SUTRI TO CAMPAGNANO

Remember again and again that the true pilgrimage is into the undiscovered land of your own imagination, which you could not have explored any other way than through these lands, with gratitude in your satchel and the compassion for all you see as your touchstone.

~ Phil Coussineau

We caught our sneaky bus this morning to Sutri. We got on and didn’t know how to pay. The local men who we had chatted to before boarding the bus, told us to keep quiet and not worry about it. We got off sheepishly at our stop. And so we started our 22km walk to Campagnano.

We reached Monterosi late morning, in time for a cappuccino and a delicious freshly squeezed pomegranate and orange juice at a cafe called Gorgeous. We passed and spoke to several new pilgrims on the next stage. Most were tackling sections of the VF. One man had walked from Germany and had been on the road since July. A group of Via Francigena cyclists flew past and then one of them turned back to come and say hello. I immediately recognised his South African accent.

After walking past tilled fields and green countryside, our next stop was for a cool swim at Monte Gelato waterfalls. We shared a panini and acqua frizzante at the nearby cafe.

By 3.30pm we were climbing the steep hill to Campagnano. We decided to stay at the donativo, Parrochia San Giovanni Battista, where most of the pilgrims were headed. In the town we had drinks with three new German girls, catching the late afternoon sun, before dinner. Drinking it in. The excitement is mounting as we close in on Rome.

CAMPAGNANO TO MONTE MARIO

I shall pass this way but once; any good that I can do or any kindness I can show to any human being; let me do it now. Let me not defer nor neglect it, for I shall not pass this way again.

~ Etienne De Grellet

Today was full of signs, wonder and unforgettable beauty that you would only find on foot. I was especially awake to it, to the warmth of the people. I’ve learnt so much. I’ve received so much. I know I shall not pass this way again in such fashion. Life moves on. I was so grateful as my feet kissed this bit of Earth one more day on the exceptional Via Francigena, that has held my journey.

It was a perfect last full day of walking – 26km and full of Camino gifts. We headed out for our morning cappuccino in Campagnano to be served by Mario who we found out had walked from Rome to Santiago 12 years ago and had his Camino shell proudly hanging on the wall. Our conversations are most often started by Sylvie. She has an incredible gift with people and I have been lucky enough to learn! It has also been fun trying to learn Italian and I feel like I’m just getting started.

The highlight of the day was discovering the Via Francigena staircase at Palazzo Chigi after being summoned off the street by historical archaeologist, Michaela, to come in and get a stamp for our credentials. He took us on a tour up the glass staircase – steps engraved with each stage of the journey. I got instant shivers walking up those stairs, realising I had walked more than 600km in exceptional circumstances. At the top was an open view over Fromello and out to Rome in the distance. Too much.

The next surprise was meeting a group of ladies in the church Di San Michele Arcangelo, who explained how the 15th century church’s frescoes had been covered up and were carefully being restored. What a privilege to be given a tour. They were organising a music concert fundraiser. We skipped out of Fromello excitedly.

The rest of the day was somewhat head down. We had to get through a lot of walking in the heat to get to La Storta, and then beyond, so we could be closer to Rome for tomorrow’s final lap. So here we are in Monte Mario about 8km from the Vatican City. And yes, I am a soul in wonder.

TO ROME

… As if, all along, you had thought the end point might be a city with golden towers, and cheering crowds, and turning the corner at what you thought was the end of the road, you found just a simple reflection, and a clear revelation, and beneath it another invitation… and the road still stretching on.

~ David Whyte from the poem, Santiago

And so we arrived in the beautiful city of Rome today. The last 7km was through a park with a view over the entire city and the grand dome of St Peter’s Basilica. I phoned my Mom and Dad to show them the view. They shared our emotion. The walk through the green park was symbolic of all the footsteps, all the wanderlusting through the wild of Switzerland and Italy. A last reflection. A last holding on to the passing of such incredible happenings, and beauty and lushness of life that flowed through me for days and now wept goodbye. I walked out of the last green and into a city, holding onto my rock and dearest travelling companion, Sylvie. This would be where I would re-enter real life and leave the seductive wilderness of foot-stepping behind. Now that I’ve done this crossover once before, as I did last year, on the Camino de Santiago de Compostela, I feel better able to move on. I can wrap it in bows and slip it inside my heart where it will remain intact, and not bleed its drug overwhelmingly. I am happy for it to sometimes seep and flow, and pulse at me, urging: remember, remember. Because I always will. And it will be an invitation to go on magnificently.

🍃 Thank you to all of you who have followed me on my beautiful Via Francigena journey and been a part of it. You have added extra special energy to my soul stepping. May your own journeys continue to be full of love, wonder and discovery.