Monthly Archives: May 2013

Pentecost, with 250 Well-Dressed Italians

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May 19, 2013 — Ceselli to Arrone

Today ended up being about clothes — clean pilgrim utilitarian, dirty pilgrim utilitarian, and fancy Italian festival.

After we awoke in our Ceselli “agritourismo” (rural guest house) our first task was to check whether our hand-washed clothes had dried overnight. No luck, they were still damp. We’d managed to wash a load of laundry back in Spello, but by now all 2-3 changes of all our clothes were dirty. Our hopes for a washer and dryer at Ceselli were quashed by our host, who told us (standing in his immaculate outfit) that the nearest laundromat is in Trevi, 20 miles away. So we’d washed a few things and set them out to dry overnight, hoping for better luck at tonight’s lodging in Arrone.

Even as we checked our clothes we noticed it was raining outside, so we put off our departure until 9:45, when the rain had let up a bit.
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We knew today’s track would be quite flat, so we began our walk in good spirits, in spite of the fact we were each wearing dirty clothes. The path followed a quiet gravel road alongside the river all morning,

Along the way we met our first fellow pilgrim in two days — Johann of Holland. He is a well-traveled, older man, walking from somewhere before Assisi, like us to Rome. We said goodbye when the sun became too warm for our raingear and we had to stop for a change of clothes mid-path.

We enjoyed a quick coffee at 11:00 at a small cafe staffed by three older women and then an elegant luncheon (with cloth napkins) at 12:30 in Ferentillo.

20130519-191946.jpgA plate of gnocchi and mozzarella with pomodoro at Ferentillo

20130519-192456.jpgFerentillo and castle above

I asked our lunch host if the twin ruins opposite each other on the high walls of the gorge were churches or castles. “Castles,” he answered in Italian. “One on each side so people walking through would have to pay taxes.”

As we continued our walk, we came across two Italian pilgrims walking toward us, older women who’d already been to Rome. The phone of the one wearing a parka rang just then and, busy with the distraction they left in a chorus of “Ciao!” and “Arrivederci!” In about 250 meters we found a new women’s North Face baseball cap lying in the path and were certain it belonged to the Italian women, who by now were too far away for us to find easily. So, Jacqueline now has a nice, new hat — a pilgrim blessing.

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The valley broadened out as we walked and it was clear the mountains on either side were receding. We knew we would soon be in Arrone, our goal for tonight. We arrived at the upper piazza, where we were directed to an agritourismo below. At the reception desk we were offered a huge, three bedroom, two bath suite for 27 Euros each — the “pilgrim price.” We quickly accepted, then asked the day’s important question: do you have a washing machine? To our delight, the answer was “Yes!” (emphasis mine).

We’d noticed the posting for a Pentecost Sunday evening service at the church in the upper city, so our next question was, “Which dirty clothes shall we wear to church while our other clothes are being washed?” We chose various odd pieces, with and without underwear, and headed to services.

Under the 15th century frescoes of this smallish church were 250 well-dressed Italians enjoying confirmation, with the local bishop presiding in his finest regalia. Several of the men were dressed in the finest Armani. Most women were dressed, made-up and coiffed to kill. Even the kids were scrubbed clean and fitted out in the newest fashions their proud parents could afford.

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We in our grimy gear had only the solace of knowing that, like St. Francis whom we were following, we were living a simple life of patience and humility.

Sadly, we learned after our dinner of pizza and profiteroles that the spin cycle of the agritourismo’s washer wasn’t working just right, and our clothes came out of the early evening wash quite wet. Will they be dry in the morning? Let’s hope.

20130519-220044.jpgPilgrim pizza in dirty clothes near a church full of clean and well dressed Italians

This Can’t be Italy

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May 18, 2013 — Spoleto to Ceselli

Our room for the night in Spoleto had three beds — two singles and one double — and somehow I managed to score the double! That meant a luxurious night in a bed which was not only big, but comfortable. I slept well.

We awoke at 6:30 to discover the water was back on, so it was showers all around, followed by a breakfast of brioches (croissants) and Nutella, which seems delightfully omnipresent. By 8:30 we were out the door, then off to the ATM for cash, then up to the top of town to find the waymarks for our route.

At the sunny Duoma Piazza we discovered the road blocked due to more filming of the Terence Hill show. Next to the policeman who told us to find another way to our goal was our friend Daniele, with Atan. He was eagerly awaiting Terence Hill’s arrival so he could get an autograph, and it was great to share a final “arrivaderci!”

Our detour led us handily to the necessary waymarks and we were soon climbing east of the piazza toward the castle above. The castle sits on a circular mountain above the city and we walked around its base to the side opposite the city, where we discovered an enormous stone bridge that stretched across the canyon to the next mountain. Our waymarks directed us across the bridge and we made the most of the acrobatic walk, snapping photos of the wooded mountains and distant valleys.

At the end of the bridge the signs directed us to a steep, gravel path that switched back and forth up the mountain, climbing 300 meters (900 ft) in two kilometers (1.4 miles) through thick forest to the tiny settlement of Monteluco. Here we found a hotel with an outdoor bar, where we enjoyed an orange juice and rest, well-earned after our tiring climb.

As we paid the bill, Sebastian pointed out an old motorcycle sitting across from the bar. “Come,” the bartender said, and he led us back to his shop/showroom full of restored and nearly-restored Italian bikes. We recognized Moto Guzzi, Vespa, Piaggio, and many others. After admiring his motorcycles and thanking him for the tour we headed along the path and discovered a small, medieval Franciscan monastery from the year 1218. We toured the tiny monks’ cells, met a young friar, and asked him to stamp our pilgrim credentials, a task to which he cheerfully obliged.

We headed again to the trail, knowing we were only part way through with today’s ascent. After first missing our marker near a field below the monastery we rejoined the gravel path up the mountain. By noon we reached the summit of our climb, Valico Castel del Monte, nearly 500 meters (1500 ft) and just 7 km (4.5 miles) from our starting point in Spoleto. As we shared a lunch of bread sticks, tomatoes, cherries and cheese looking down on a view of green mountains and rich valleys we congratulated ourselves on how quickly our legs were at pilgrim strength, allowing us a big climb in good time with little pain or weariness. After four days we felt ready to climb anything.

For today’s hike it was all downhill from here. We walked down and down, by vast vistas of mountains and valleys, through the ghost village of Sensati, then past a cemetery and the tiny town of Nevi. Finally at about 3:30 we reached Ceselli and were waved into the town’s single hotel, “Il Ruscello,” by it’s proprietor. Famished as we were by now we accepted his offer to take us to Schreggino, where we had beer and ice cream for snacks and bought pasta for dinner. Arriving back in Ceselli we had showers, did laundry, then cooked our dinner, which we enjoyed over a bottle of the local vintage.

Most surprising of the day was the realization that the miles of green mountains we’d enjoyed were Italy. I’d always thought Italy was made up of dry grass, barren hills and lone cypress trees pointing to the sky. Turns out this part of Italy could just as easily be the hills of North Carolina or France or Wisconsin. Today was a beautiful experience in joy and beauty in a warm, green place with dear friends. A day that began in an annoying detour ended in a gracious meal of pasta and wine and loving conversation.

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Who in the World is Terence Hill?

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Goodbye to Trevi

Goodbye to Trevi

May 17, 2013 — Trevi to Spoleto

“What do you do when it rains?” asked the skeptical American tourist, seated across from us at breakfast this morning at our hotel in Trevi. “We have rain gear!” we replied cheerfully. As we left the hotel an hour later, the same American waved to us from the dry comfort of his rental car as he passed by with his wipers busily clearing rain from his windshield.

The weather reports had predicted rain for today, and they nailed it. It came on and off for the first hour of our walk — once again through olive groves — then it came with a windy fury after a couple of hours. Within seconds of the worst deluge we were discovering the limits of our rain gear. I had started the day with just my rain jacket, but during the hardest downpour we found a garage and ducked in so I could put on my long pants (to keep rain out of my boots), my long sleeved T-shirt, and my down sweater for beneath my dripping rain jacket.

The torrent continued as the trail led us down to the valley floor, and after a left turn onto the highway we found a bar where we took off our wet gear and warmed ourselves with coffee and hot croissants. Soon we were joined by our four French friends we’d met in Assisi, and also a quiet Italian couple we’d seen several times along the way. All of us took refuge on the covered patio as we waited for the rain to subside.

After about an hour the rain slackened and we all headed out, just a little drier than before. We walked along the highway, then turned right onto a quiet, paved track alongside an irrigation ditch. Here we met one of the most interesting characters from any of my caminos, Daniele Marini of Italy, and his dog Atan.

Daniele and Aran, pilgrims to the world

Daniele and Aran, pilgrims to the world

Daniele is a tiny 25-year old with a quick and warm smile who’s off on a 10-12 year walk around the world. He’s already walked from his home to Rome, Barcelona, Santiago and other places. He’s now heading to Rome, then is off to Sardinia, France, Germany, then Asia and Africa, followed by North and South America. He subsists solely on the generous offerings of strangers and the occasional odd job as a bartender or laborer. Today he is heading to Spoleto because Terrence Hill is there filming a TV show.

When he told me this, my first question was, “Who in the world is Terence Hill?” Daniele and Sebastian were shocked that I didn’t know this famous European movie star. I quickly consulted Wikipedia and discovered that I have not seen a single movie in the Terence Hill filmography, not even Miami Supercops or I Quatro del Ave Maria or Nobody Hits like Don Camillo with his sidekick Bud Spencer. Apparently I know nothing about movies. 😉 When I return to the US I’ll begin a raid of the Netflix archives to find out what all the fuss is about.

Engrossed in conversation with Daniele and seeing no waymarks for awhile we started to get nervous about directions to Spoleto. Since the rain had stopped and the town was clearly visible on the hillside ahead we shifted to the highway which went in that direction and in an hour or two were having lunch (our treat) with Daniele and Atan at a nice outdoor lunch spot in Spoleto.

We walked up to the Duomo at the top of town, where Daniele had heard Terence Hill would be filming. As we arrived we passed films crews staked out all over the Duomo Piazza and Daniele pointed out a blue movie star’s chair emblazoned with the name, “Terence Hill.” Since our goal was the Duomo, not the movie star, we said a fond farewell to Daniele and headed into the beautiful church.

Just as Jacqueline and I were finishing our tour of the cathedral, Sebastian rushed through the front door and said, “We have to leave now! The film crews are clearing the Piazza!” Sure enough, we were instructed to leave right away, and as we walked off the piazza we noticed an older man in a black priest’s cassock wearing a black baseball cap. “That’s him!” said Sebastian. “That’s Terence Hill!” I took a quick photo of the back of his head as stage hands instructed me in Italian, “No fotos!” and as we turned the corner off the piazza I noticed Daniele and his dog, discretely situated across the piazza, out of view of the cameras.

Finished with our brush with fame we headed to a hotel we’d passed along the way and were shown to a nice room with three beds, our home for the night. Jacqueline and Sebastian, full of energy, headed out for sightseeing while I snoozed for a couple of hours under the warm covers of my bed.

Sebastian awakened me at 7:30 for dinner and we made our way down to the hotel dining room. After ordering, we noticed the hotel owner seating a wiry young Italian man — Daniele! He joined us at our table and told us about how a nice woman in the Duomo Piazza had inquired about his dog and he’d told her he had no place to sleep for the night. “Come and stay in my hotel,” she said. So now we know how Daniele will make his way around the world — on the kindness of strangers, his friendly smile, and people’s love of dogs.

We voted Jacqueline to be first in the shower, but she immediately noticed there was no water coming from the tap. Checking with the desk, we learned that all human and canine guests will have to wait until the morning for the hotel’s main water line to be fixed. So while this entertaining day included the occasional mendicant hiker and Italian movie star, tonight there would be no showers or washing of clothes for our little pilgrim fellowship.

Ancient Villas, Australians, and Belgian Yoga Ladies

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Town Hall at Foligno

Town Hall at Foligno

May 15, 2013 — Spello to Trevi

After covering 20 km in six and a half hours here we are, enjoying a cheese and beer snack in our four star hotel in the beautiful hill town of Trevi.

The day started with a breakfast of croissants and Nutella in the dining room of our Spello hotel. We visited in a combination of English and French with two Belgian ladies who were pleasantly surprised by our plan to walk to Rome. They’re scouting out the walk themselves for a future trip. We lingered over coffee since it was raining outside, then said goodbye and began our walk in rain gear down through the cobbled streets of medieval Spello to the busy roads at the valley floor below.

The well-marked path took us along the hillside through olive groves and small farms for several kilometers, then we rejoined the busy streets as we neared the center of Foligno. The rain let up, and we ditched our rain gear to keep cool in the warm air. In this portion of the day’s walk, often there were sidewalks, but sometimes we shared the quieter streets with the tiny Italian cars and mini-trucks.

Thankfully, central Foligno is a pedestrian-only zone and we enjoyed a coffee break in the main square with a view of the beautiful church, the Duomo of Foligno. As we chatted and sipped our coffee a gentleman next to us asked in a soft, Australian accent where we were from. We described our current adventure and past walks and he was surprised at our plan to walk all the way to Rome. Soon he and his wife were describing their adventure — they are here in Italy after a two-month cruise from Australia to Japan to India and on to the Mediterranean. “We’re ready to go home now,” said the man. “Yes,” said his wife, “so we can begin planning our next trip!”

Lovely vista of Trevi

Lovely vista of Trevi

We left central Foligno, to clouds but no rain, then ducked into a tiny pizzeria for a quick slice in order to avoid a sudden shower. The road then took us up into the foothills, once more among the olive trees, for a mostly gentle climb to the outskirts of Trevi. As we walked past a small, freshly mowed meadow, we noticed our two Belgian friends stretched out on the grass in yoga poses. We said, “Bonjour!” but a “Namaste!” might have been better. The ladies waved and shouted with cheerful smiles.

We were a little disappointed that the road once more turned steeply up, our legs are not quite yet recovered from yesterday’s grueling climb and descent. We were rewarded, though, with frequent vistas of the panoramic city of Trevi, our goal for the day.

We stopped at the Tourist Information office in an ancient villa on the outskirts of town and the friendly young woman in her office under 17th century frescoes found us a room with three beds in a four-star hotel for just 60 Euros per night, including breakfast.

That was a bargain too good to pass up, so soon we were settled into our room at the top of a spiral staircase, enjoying a snack of cheese, crackers and beer at our fancy hotel. Ahhhh. The life of a pilgrim!

 

“The First Day of Pain”

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Today’s second chocolate croissant.

May 14, 2013 — Assisi to Spello

To me, a chocolate croissant is the perfect food to start a day of hiking — buttery-sweet calories with a chocolate center. Knowing that we had a 700 meter climb followed by a 900 meter descent ahead of us, I ordered two — guilt-free at breakfast, plus an orange juice and two coffees. I’d need all the energy I could get for this walk through the mountains above Assisi to the town of Spello.

Jacqueline and Sebastian ambled down to the cafe below our hotel at about 7:30, and after their breakfast and a few words with some French pilgrims we headed out at about 8:00 under a blue Assisi sky.

The blue and yellow waymarks led us up above town, so soon we were looking down on the ancient fortress that looms over Assisi. We realized that today’s route would lead us through the forested mountains above the town, likely giving us many vistas of the flat, green valley below.

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Looking across to the fortress above Assisi

And so, we started walking up. Up through pine forests, up through thick brush, up past woodsmen with chainsaws. Up, up, up. An hour later we were certain we’d reached the top, then it was down a little ways and up, up again. I led the way at first, Jacqueline unusually slow, but when we finally reached the top, Jacqueline took the lead in the more difficult downhills. Most of the path was single track on sharp gravel, but some was also on the asphalt pavement of several remote, mountain roads. To our right were continuous views of the vast valley far below.

Video of the view from our hike to Spello

At about noon, tired from the climbs and descents, we stopped for lunch at a small picnic area off the trail. Last night we’d bought some cheese, crackers and cherry tomatoes and we feasted on these as we rested our weary feet. Here we were passed by a local Assisi couple out for a few days’ hike. Then the trail led steeply down the mountain through olive orchards, finally meandering to the hill town of Spello.

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Looking down on the hill town of Spello, today’s goal

We weren’t certain if we’d stay in Spello or head the extra 7km to Foligno, but when we found the Albergo Il Cacciatore, with its lovely terrace and views of the valley, our evening plans were set. A beer, laundry, showers and a big spaghetti dinner would be perfect for these tired pilgrims. As Sebastian summarized the day over an afternoon beer, “Today was our first day of pain.” But what a lovely, painful day it was.

Postscript: we walked down through town in the afternoon to do laundry at the automat and get groceries for tomorrow. Then it was a tasty dinner of pasta with wild asparagus and chicken in a white wine sauce. Off to bed then, with dreams of a short walk on flat ground tomorrow.

Nice town you got here, St. Francis

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May 13, 2013 — Assisi, Umbria, Italy

IMG_2135The first thing I noticed about Italy when I awoke just before noon today was how much different it smells from Spain. There is a spicy, kind of sagey smell to Italy and as we looked down into the valley below Assisi I imagined the smell emanated from the countless, verdant orchards and farms below.

Yep, I woke at noon. The jet lag was responsible, and maybe the cold I’ve nursed for the last ten days. My kind friends, Sebastian and Jacqueline, sneaked out quietly this morning so I could get some extra shut-eye in preparation for the many miles ahead.

After an early afternoon shower I headed out to coffee and soon saw Sebi and Jacqueline walking up the hill toward the cafe near our pension. We paused for a breakfast slash lunch and then headed out for tours of Assisi’s amazing churches.

First stop was nearby San Rufino, then off to Santa Chiara with its relics of Francis and Clare. Then to San Damiano where Francis heard his mission to “rebuild the church.” From there we crossed town to the spectacular Basilica of San Francesco. When I was here in 1999 the upper church was closed for earthquake repairs. This time it was open and the historic 13th c. frescoes lived up to their billing. They depict in stark medieval style the important scenes from the life and death of St. Francis and the overall sense is of ancient, otherworldly mystery and power. The feeling deepened as we made our way to the lower church with its tombs of Francis and his friends.

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Three pilgrims in front of our first waymark for the Via di San Francesco

After walking the town we stopped in true pilgrim style for beers and conversation. Seated next to us in the cafe were a delightful couple, Margo and Carol, from Illinois. They’re touring Italy with a jolly bus group from the States which we happened to meet later at dinner.

Following our meal it was back to Camere Carli for showers and sleep in advance of our first day of walking. Tomorrow’s goal: 25 km to Foligno, or if necessary, just 17 km to Spello.

Cheers to friends who are following us via FB and this blog! We love you and are thankful for the many joyful wishes and prayers for a safe and fun camino 2013.

 

Ready and waiting

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I can’t believe it’s finally here. Departure day.
Over the last week I started to count the time remaining by the number of tasks left. On Friday I finished packing, so this weekend it came down to: Baptism, done. Sermons, done. Premarital counseling appointment, done. Then finally that odd feeling came over me — what have I forgotten?
I now realize the deeper meaning the what have I forgotten actually represents. It’s really saying, I can’t believe I’m walking out the door with only a 10-pound pack on my back and a month to journey far away from home. As with every pilgrimage I’ve walked, this slow adventure means briefly “forgetting” almost everything comfortable and familiar and becoming happy with simple accommodations, scant privacy, aching feet, and a distant destination that appears slowly to tear-filled eyes and a joyful heart.
I will miss everything about home, and I will cherish everything new while I’m away. I’ll step on the plane in a few moments, bound for Rome, giving thanks for Gail and home and church and friends, and I will trust myself once more to the Pilgrim Road which rises to meet me.

20130512-170007.jpgAt the Seattle airport, awaiting flights to Amsterdam then Rome. May 12, 2013