Connecting…the year of 2018 begins

This year, I’m going to connect. CONNECT.

How wonderfully symbolic the inside of this thatched roof is: the core of who I am, broken into parts and elements, sensations and drives and people I know: connected, connected, connected.

I think of people of course; relationship is the most important thing in the world to me. But I also think of magnets and snaps and shoelaces. I think of connecting the dots, and God and Adam’s fingers almost connecting on the Cystine Chapel ceiling.

I think of colors swirling into sameness yet keeping their purity somehow intact.

Morguefile Photo by Tammcd

I think of the importance of words to connect our thoughts and feelings with others in sound. In song. In writing. And

Connection: Obviously A Natural Motif

I think of the sphere of all that I am, mindbodyspiritbraintoesheartliverbreathvoice in connection. A natural wonder, but sometimes it doesn’t COME so naturally, at least to me. I have to build bridges. Build my links.

Sometimes the connections aren’t terribly sturdy.

In August of last year I started to explore how to strengthen and oil the links to what I hold most dear.

Adding STRUCTURE to my life has helped me so much lately. Not only do I have my bullet journal, but I’ve added accountability with friends to help keep me focused and (a more important side effect) keep me connected to those friends.

An example of a daily accountability text.

With one friend, I share daily accountability texts of what my goals are. The next day we state if we made those goals and if not, why not. No judgement claimed or implied or looked for, but even this minor publication of what I’ve said I want to do can teach us both a lot about ourselves. And though extremely brief and often quite cryptic, these shared goals provide an intimate connection between the two of us.

With another friend, a writing buddy, we check in weekly on our progress with our more long-term goals. This keeps our friendship active, and it helps me honor my commitment to writing.

The accountability  strategies help me with will power, help me keep the promises I make to myself about what I want to do with my time. I’m my own boss, and for someone who craves earning the approval of others, that’s not an easy situation to negotiate. I latch onto these strategies with gratitude.

Other kinds of connection require links that are not as easy to grease and strengthen. Or if it is easy, I haven’t figured out yet how to do it. For instance,the connection of my soul to the outside world requires an open heart, open and vulnerable and willing to expose itself. But I’m scared. How do I strengthen a courageous heart?

I keep hoping I’ll  get so old I won’t care what others think about me. When will that fairy come around with its magic wand and instill trust in me? That’s the link I need most to work on, now I think of it: the trust that others enjoy, admire, and/or at least love me for who I am. And if they don’t, I don’t need to give a hoot because, hey, they broke my trust.

Trust will be my link to inner peace. I’m going to connect to trust and trust in connection.

2018–bring it on!

Happy New Year, everyone!

 

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Roma and beyond

I’ve been back home, recovering from my adventures for over a month, and busy trying to catch up with the life I left behind for two weeks, but I want to say at least a few words about the Eternal City. Annie and I spent 5 days in chaotic, ancient and modern Rome. We were celebrating our trek, recovering from its demands on our bodies, and yet … increasing my sense of overwhelm.  People fatigue. Culture fatigue. Big city fatigue.

Because Rome is full:

The modern, the natural, the ancient and iconic, and the human: all smooshed together in Rome.

The buildings each scream of history and baroque character. Some have paintings framed on their outsides, or statues, or columns. Civic buildings get shouldered aside by church after church after church. It’s brick; it’s marble; it’s old cement; it’s stone. Everything is tightly packed on roads that are often cobbled, almost always parked up, and yet streams of tourists and crazy cars still compete for the remaining space left for moving.

Like most of the tourists we talked to, we stayed in an AirBnB apartment.  My exhaustion from the trek caught up with me in, and we’d come home in the afternoons after a visit to a museum or something, and I immediately crashed for hours. Despite the extra sleep, I got cranky. The noise in in the city after the quiet of our days trekking seemed designed to annoy me. Our apartment was clearly not meant to be lived in: the kitchen was in a cupboard–not even a large closet– and had no oven and no microwave, and very few pots and plates. No cutting board, no broom or dustpan. And I couldn’t get the funky coffee pot to work. And STILL my phone wasn’t functioning right. Gah!

But of course we managed totally fine. It was Rome! And it was wonderfully convenient.

Our apartment was a block or two from the Pantheon: the oldest structure on the planet continuously in use since it opened under Hadrian’s rule around 126 AD, first as a Roman temple to all the gods, then later as a Christian Church, especially honoring martyrs.

You can see much better shots of the exterior on the internet, but this is the entrance.

The dome, made from unreinforced concrete is open to the sky, with the final pillar thereby coming from the sun directly into the temple and infusing it with natural light. So cool, so powerful. Did you know that cement was an ancient invention? I had no idea! They used to crush marble (you know, those boring greek things?) to make it. I found myself aching to see the Pantheon as it was when it celebrated all the gods. The immense statue to Jupiter by the alter has been replaced with a beautiful Mary.

 

Well, I’m a sucker for statues, and they are everywhere in Rome. You don’t trip over them, because they’re mostly enormous,

a remnant from the Colossus of Rome (I think), originally located in the Forum. To give a sense of the size, the  pillar there is supporting a high ceiling. This is in the Capitoline Museum–go there!

often on pedestals,

frequently spouting water in fountains,

The four-rivers Fountain

The Trevi Fountain–never to be seen except swarmed with crowds (unless they’ve turned it off for cleaning)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Or, like my favorite here, holding up an obelisk.

We walked a lot in Rome, regularly using my GPS phone feature to move down tiny streets called things like “Donkey Alley.”  We bought something called the “Roma Pass” which gave us 3 days of free subway and bus rides and a MUCH shorter line into the Coliseum (we got one free museum and chose that one)–and that alone was worth the cost! The trick about the bus and subway is that it’s very hard to find stops, so you end up doing a lot of walking anyway. Let’s just say I had no problem getting my 10,000 steps.

The seven hills of Rome are more famous than obvious, but Palatine and Capitoline Hills surround the Forum. These are not big hills, but small steep things with many steps or sheer cliffs that you come across while walking around and think, “oooh, I bet this is famous. I bet important things happened here!” But since everything is famous and reeking of history in Rome, I got a bit inured to the shock of that thrill. Still, the Coliseum and Forum are simply amazing, and kind of smack dab in the middle of everything. As is fitting, of course.

They’ve fairly recently rebuilt one side of the Coliseum to show its full height, and it truly is enormous. Built to appease the population. I think the idea was, if you provide free entertainment (and there were free seats), people won’t mind going hungry so much. Interesting.

Inside the sports arena of the Coliseum, you see the huge underpinning of the wooden floor, which they originally covered with several inches of sand for the combats: free men (gladiators) against slaves, slaves against wild beasts. I think it was one way slaves could win their freedom, but the odds were not good.

Everywhere you go in Rome, excavation sites abound–it’s why their subway system is so abysmal. You probably can’t dig a garden in Rome because you hit something ancient. And its not just Roman ruins we’re talking; it’s PRE-roman. Turns out every civilization builds on top of the one before, both literally and symbolically.

Although we’d planned to go to Pompeii for a day, we had trouble finding the bus stop and missed it. Instead, we traded it in for a guided tour to Tivoli, not far outside Rome, where we visited Hadrian’s Villa, in ruins.

A Roman bath at Hadrian’s villa. There were several set-ups, from his own private baths to those designed for the nobles, down to the slave baths. Each set-up had three bathing areas: hot, tepid, and cold –you can tell this is a hot bath, because it’s round, designed as the most efficient way to keep in the heat.

Couldn’t resist including the toilet!

Hadrian’s private quarters, cut off by a moat!

So, Hadrian’s love of his life was a young man who died tragically in Egypt (I think he drowned). Hadrian had this large pond built in tribute to the (I suspect) kid. Hadrian was a big designer, which evidently drove his architects wild.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

But Tivoli is also famous for Villa d’Este, built in the 16th century by the cardinal of that name. The Villa is pooh-poohed simply because the gardens he created by diverting the river Aniene (we walked by this river on our trek!) are simply phenomenal. Here I’ll quote from Wiki: “The fame and glory of the Villa d’Este was above all established by its extraordinary system of fountains; fifty-one fountains and nymphaeums, 398 spouts, 364 water jets, 64 waterfalls, and 220 basins, fed by 875 meters of canals, channels and cascades, and all working entirely by the force of gravity, without pumps.”

This is the first fountain you see, a small thing, but beautifully balanced with the surrounding view.

And then you walk down… and around… and each step brings you to something different and maybe kind of odd.

Peek-a-boo

Or truly fanciful…

Or just simply overwhelmingly spectacular.

Wow, huh?

Tivoli was  a wonderful side trip to our days in Rome. And we also got this final blessing from the man himself at the entrance to the Villa d’Este.

And now my adventure is over. I’m so glad I had the opportunity to tag along on my sister’s plans when her friend couldn’t make it. It was glorious to experience Italy through walking (though it was limited to Lazio) and trusting to a pilgrimage trail.

I learned a lot about my body and my relationship to it, to that aspect of myself. I am so, so grateful to my feet and my legs and my hands and my arms–all of me that was put to the test on this voyage. And to my sister! Who forgave my fatigue and occasionally snarky responses to it and to her. Having the time to really experience Rome thoroughly was a great luxury.

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Walking into Rome and the Vatican City

Last day of our trek on Via Francegena di San Francesco. (I finally checked one of my photos of the signs we’ve been following to get the name right, so take due note.)

We were tired after 5 days of hard walking/hiking, but so excited too–our final miles. The directions had us following a bike path for much of the way. Its being Sunday, we saw lots of people–bikers, walkers, runners. Such a shift from previous days! And for the first time we walked exclusively on pavement.

The famed garbage problem of Rome. Ironically, this was not an issue so much in the city, but definitely in its outskirts. All bins overflowed, litter everywhere.

I adored my hiking poles, but one of the running gags of our trip was my trying to get the rubber tips to work for me on pavement. They wore out very quickly–probably due to my putting my entire (not insubstantial) weight on them as I got more and more tired. This meant that the pointy part that is so good on rough terrain, skidded and clinked on pavement. I tried stuffing earplugs in the holes in the rubber tips, and that worked for a while, though the tips kept falling off. Imagine the slapstick: put on, fall off, roll some distance (or bounce). Bend down, pick up. Repeat. And repeat. Then I tried pieces of wood that I chiseled down with Annie’s handy army knife. But this last day I gave up, finally stuffed the pathetic rubber tips in a pocket, and tapped my way down the bike path, sidewalks, and streets we walked down.

Easy walking! Virtually no hills and only 9 miles that day–maybe even less! But we were tired. I needed my poles.

We walked along the Aniene River for quite a while –which joins the more famous Tiber (or Tevere in Italian). Much of the time we couldn’t see the water, but we caught occasional glorious glimpses.

We parted from the river, but still went mainly along the “pink” bike path, deviating here and there as the directions indicated. We still saw the occasional sign for our pilgrimage trek but they were sadly quite rare and eventually disappeared entirely. Annie, who was in charge of the directions given to us by our tour group, Hidden Italy, usually led the way and instructed me frequently with various snippets of information. Like, the Rome Mosque is the largest mosque outside the “Arab World” (which includes Russia for some reason). Evidently there was quite a bit of a kerfuffle at its construction, resolved when they lowered the minaret to be shorter than St. Peter’s Basilica.

We were guided PAST a couple of parks, tantalizingly kept from our view by high walls, and annoyingly packed with parked cars that made walking that way difficult. But there were several fun sights on the way.

The oddest bird –a crow in fancy dress? We saw them several times.

All the streets were lined with cars parked very tightly. Impressive parking skills, for sure, but it could be difficult to maneuver around when the sidewalk or bike path disappeared (which it did periodically).

A playground, very heavily used, and banked by intriguing architectural/sculptural…things.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

But finally we crossed the river–by that time maybe it was the Tiber!– and entered Rome itself. After a delightful surprise of an enormous Sunday flea market,

we started counting bridges.

 

 

 

 

 

Many, many, bridges–these are just some. Finally we saw it in the distance: St. Peter’s Basilica.

That’s it. We were almost there!

Closer. Just one more steep stairway to climb.

Very close now. We’re feeling SUCCESS and glory!

And there it is. Complete with the obelisk under which St. Peter himself is said to be buried.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

What a fantastic feeling to enter the ancient, eternal city of Rome under our own steam and after several days trekking through the various paths of Lazio to get there. After some confusion to the Rome way of numbering (they address opposite sides of the street differently), we found our hotel for the night, the gorgeous Hotel Santa Anna only a couple of blocks away.

The best part of the room? The most amazing shower either of us had ever experienced.

Ahhhhhhhh.

And now to relax in Rome, to recover our energies, to explore the ancient world, to eat ourselves silly and to sleep and sleep and sleep.

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Good dogs

Leaving Monterotondo was much nicer than entering it. The sun shone, we were not worried about getting lost, I had slept long and hard. There was a coffee machine, so I could grab my two caffe lattes without annoying a waiter. Well, that’s not strictly true. He was in a sour mood, sighing heavily, no smiles, rearranging everything we touched after we went by, polishing silver, that sort of thing. Poor guy was the same waiter we saw the night before at dinner. Knowing how late the evening meal goes around here, he has to have been exhausted to open up at 7 am. I was cheery after a million hours of sleep, so I forgave him his cranky neuroses.

Before we left town, we were reminded it was Saturday–Saturday market day!

A side note on food. When we were at the castle, we met a charming couple who were vegan. While we adored the castle food, they hated it, because vegan in Italy? Are you crazy?  Although I know people eat vegetables and have seen them for sale, pretty much all we’ve had in that area are tomatoes and lettuce. Okay, some basil leaves. A lot of pasta with milk and cheese and egg and cream and bacon. This is the lands of carbanara after all. Yum! They counteract this load of richness by serving their bread dry. I have learned to horrify servers by asking for butter. Salads are seldom dressed, but they’re happier to bring olive oil, balsamic vinegar and salt to the table. In this way, perhaps vegans can survive in Italy.

Actually, when we started to see actual menus, we figured out that vegetables are mostly listed as side dishes.

End of side note. Back to the walk. Fancier houses leaving town–perhaps the wealthy live closer to Rome? Although we were in the suburbs now, there were still lots of fields. We saw our first shepherd with his flock of sheep (lo and behold, these were wearing the cow bells!) and several working dogs.

A lovely descent out of town.

Still nowhere to sit to adjust the paper tape we both used to battle blisters

We walked along a tractor path for a bit. At one point the farmer had plowed our path up, and we had to guess/ have faith we were heading the right way.

It was lovely and easy, though we were both getting progressively more tired–simply the accumulation of days I think. Well, also it was 12 miles, maybe a bit more.

And then, on part of the trail that led through a nature reserve,  we were befriended by two dogs who leaned into us and jumped up in a friendly way and made us go all soft inside. We got concerned as they followed us for a good mile, but they eventually let us continue without them.

These dogs LOVED us!

At some point during our walk, the via di Francesco signs disappeared. Since we were going almost entirely straight, we weren’t worried, but felt a bit abandoned.

Also, more people! It was Saturday and many were out on bicycles or hiking/walking. We saw another couple with backpacks and poles, but they did not seem eager to tarry and talk, but perhaps other pilgrims!

This lovely mosaic shrine greeted us as  we climbed ( of course) the slope up to Monte Sacro, very much a suburb of the Eternal City and our resting place for the night before we finish.

On our way into Monte Sacro, this lovely shrine, a mozaic

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What St Francis Said: the Road to Monterotondo

This was our longest day and our most unpleasant so far. We are getting closer to Rome and so the roads are more road-y, the people in a greater hurry, and the heat fraying our nerves more. It is possible that our feet hurt and we were already tired when we began.

Of course we had plenty of beauty!

One of the sweetest trails ever

Balanced by one of the roughest

I think…wild cyclamen

He looks sweet here, but this dog was snarling and barking his head off just before I got my phone out to snap his photo

It’s been gorgeous, and under 80 degrees fehrenheit the entire time. But we folks from the Pacific Northwest think that any sunshine is a bit suspect. And just about all of it is hot.

The fact is, after about thirteen or fourteen miles, our stamina suffered. Our only (and early)  Fanta of the day was refreshing, but the snooty bar had no toilet paper. After that, there was nowhere else to stop. It was hard to find a rock, let alone a chair in a caffe.

Lunch was along a ditch by a busy road–luckily in the shade.  I’ve been packing in Kind bars and pepperoni sticks, so we never starve.

At one point we were attacked by a couple of dogs. Luckily the owner was right there and called them back–and they obeyed. But it was scary. By the end of the day, I wasn’t sure I LIKED dogs in Italy. That makes me so sad..

After that, it got worse. A youngish Italian woman stopped us and asked in excellent English about where we’d come from, where we were going. When we bragged about the distance (this was after 13 miles or so) she commented on how that wasn’t far, was it? We said, “Yes it’s far for us!” She then shrugged, pursed her lips and nodded. “I suppose it is something you still can do.”

I need to learn some Italian swear words.

Beauty soothes even my crankier reactions (usually).

We were told to look for a Roman ruin. We thought this was it, but it turns out it was merely a very picturesque dilapidated building

THIS is the ruin, in the distance above this intriguing statue out in the middle of nowhere.

At the end of the day, the busy road we walked became a highway. To get under an overpass, our tour led us into a series of weeds. We got totally lost in the directions, then found the markers and came back to the same highway about 50 feet further down. Argh!

The entrance to the city (it was getting dark and we’d been walking for eight hours, pretty straight) was just a terrible slog uphill, busy busy on a Friday night, cars zooming to get home in time to make dinner for a hungry family (I was so hungry), we didn’t really know where we were going, where the hotel was, it was taking forever. Did I mention my feet hurt?

 

Not exactly a castle, but man we were happy to call it home!

But we found it finally, our room for the night, with a shower whose doors barely slid open wide enough to fit a large American woman, but they DID open wide enough. And dinner was wonderful, and we were done with it in time for me to crash hard at 8:30.

This became our mottto for the day:

“Start by doing what’s necessary; then do what’s possible; and suddenly you are doing the impossible.” – Francis of Assisi

Not a bad way to live life! And it got us through our 17 miles.

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To the Castle!

We managed to find our way back to the trail fairly easily, and started our trek in good spirits, heading out of the town of Poggio San Moiano in a much quainter downhill fashion than we arrived, including passing by several murals. The light was perfect for shadow pictures also!

We still had a fair amount of shade, but the sun when it hit us, hit hard. Annie promised shorter, but steep climbs, and at first the “shorter” rang true, but then I started to doubt. By the end of the day…well, read on.

It was hazier today, so the vistas weren’t quite as miraculous as yesterday’s, but it was certainly beautiful.

We noticed a LOT of aggressive dog behavior behind fences of farm houses/country estates. At one time, a particularly energetic Rottweiler made me quite nervous, but the chicken wire held after all.

Other noises: cow bells, lizards (which are so common I’ve designated them the squirrels of this area) skittering in the reeds, grasses, rocks, etc. We swear we heard a donkey braying, though it might have been a goose. Roosters crowed, dogs growled, yipped, yapped, barked, and occasionally wined for attention.

Sometimes the path got difficult, but there were long stretches where we actually had nothing to complain about.

Once again we were able to stop at a trattoria in a town on the way for lunch. Panini, Fanta, and chips–ahhh.

A cute town (on a hill of course!) perfectly timed for a rest

Friendly men next to us at the trattoria

Later at another opportune moment there appeared another bar, complete with a friendly dog and some kids to pretend we could eavesdrop on. A wonderful little break before a grueling uphill. I mention these bars–which might  be called caffes or trattorias, because they are rare!

After a difficult climb,  we were done! Almost. Here we deviated from  via Francesco. Our hotel, it turns out (as Annie gets out the last page of directions), is in a castle–the same castle we kept seeing (very cool) in the distance throughout the day.

The walk was first along a very busy road and then it cut away to go up a path that was so steep it was almost unbelievable.

It’s too bad the angle of the incline does not read in the photo, but perhaps you can see the sweat on our exhausted faces, yes? For those who ski, it was like walking up a triple black diamond that kept going on…and on…

Unbelievable anyone could actually drive up or down it, but an elderly woman in a car passed us going down and said “Complimenti” to me several times, to which I said “gracie” and meant it.

But of course the castle neared, and you just can’t beat a castle for …how you say pomp? Ceremony? Grandiosity? Ahhhhh. My American heart swelled.

Closer

Closer

Closer

Arrived!

We had to get permission to cross the moat

A stunning contrast to last night’s accommodations.

You perhaps cannot see that this a two-story room, complete with its own banquet table.

The view from our room. I believe we WALKED that view. Just saying.

We are trading history and terribly cool and nothing free for the tasteless (ie, not to my taste),  uncomfortable,  yet terribly  kind and generous service of the night before. Still, the people here are friendly too!

When you enter, the castle does not disappoint

Ah well. Il faut souffrir pour etre belle. I even wore my swishy skirt to dinner, one of the most delicious I’ve ever had. Alas I don’t do food photos. But here I am in my glory, swank as all get out.

 

 

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Beauty Everywhere- Poggio San Lorenzo to Poggio San Moiano

 Today’s hike, and I mean HIKE, since the way was almost entirely up and then down with little traversing, was both glorious and (of course) exhausting. Unlike yesterday’s long distance, today we hiked only 9 miles, but I was very happy to find our bizarre little apartment at the bottom of a (seriously) excruciating windy hill.

The amazing thing is that we actually went up and down this hill again, due to the need for our apres hike beer. You can tell because Annie is showered and looking quite good.

We had found the city hall our directions dropped us off at, but then had to resort to my GPS to discover where next to go to find our Agriturismo ChiuAgri. As we headed down the street, a man in a car stopped us: “Please!” It was our concierge, who motioned for us to wait; he had to get the key. He returned with a young man named Giorgio, who spoke some English, and who led us down down down a narrow street. Alas the photo doesn’t show it well enough. But there at the end is our apartment for the night: dark, dank, and bright green. Pink bedspreads on the narrow twin below, with a fulll bed above in the loft. Since Annie had the twin for the kids last night, I get them tonight.

The color is actually a brighter Prell green than this looks in the photo. It seems a big Mistake.

But I am starting at the end of the day. We had a glorious day. The weather was perfect–sunny and not too warm (the vistas kept coming and coming, over beautiful hills filled with olive trees, grape vines, even some of what I think were walnuts. Every so often we came upon a shrine, or odd pool with, as below, something unusual about it. I’m just going to shower you photos give you some idea of the glory of our day.

It turns out we had not actually passed through Poggio San Lorenzo yesterday, so we started with that today. What a great little place! Totally charming, some of the apartments were actually built on top of an old Roman wall! And I worry about the age of OUR foundation.

A close up of Roman brickwork

 

Shrine

There were several public cisterns, or wells, or whatever they were along the walk today. Here was a surprising pool, beautifully kept up, with a gremlin spouting the water

Lots and lots of olive trees!

This was our wonderland Trail, our Eden of the day: slightly downhill, dirt path scattered with tiny oak leaves. Lizards skittered on the edges. Views opened up periodically. We were cool and happy.

Alas, Eden turned to Hell all too quickly, and we had a long slog up the worst kind of path–a couple times during the day.

 

We did a side tour to find a cafe to have lunch, as suggested by our literature. Alas the directions were too scant and we ended up adding at least a mile to our day–but we got our shared panini and a sweet place to sit outside.

The view over fields below from our high perch at lunch.

And just to end at the beginning, here we are looking forward to day that began with what we begin to realize is typical for breakfast here: Annie gets a largish pot of tea, and I am forced to ask, with some embarrassment but definite need for a second caffe latte.

 

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The trek begins! Via San Francesco

I want to start with some photos of Rieti, a small city in the very center of Italy. Here’s the proof!

Rieti is the exact center of Italy, so is known as the “umbilica” –as this huge belly button honors not far from our hotel.

Unknown town, Annie found our hotel down these tiny (dead on Monday) streets by miraculous instinct alone

It turns out most businesses are closed on Mondays, so Annie and I had to settle for beer and shared chips (we missed lunch) instead of get the gelato I craved. But the beer was fine!

And here we see our first real references to the man himself: St. Francis of Assisi. This is where we join the Camino, the via… its called many things. If we had time, we could have trekked up to the mountains near here where St. Francis meditated and perhaps died. It turns out when he died they discovered stigmata  on his body. He had not revealed this before because he had not wanted to make people feel uncomfortable.

Saint Francis -I like how dramatic the sun’s angle makes him here

Saint Francis again, his austere kindness showing in more light. A good man to try to follow at least a little in his footsteps

I’m exhausted now, after 7 1/2 hours of hiking/walking over flatland, up hills, down dales, by highways, on asphalt roads, over roads created by tossing down large rocks, scattering the surface with smaller pebbles, then running over it with a semi able to create exciting ruts throughout.

This is one of the wider, smoother paths we were on, not counting actual roads. I found myself craving mud.

We traversed streams, picnicked next to a first century Roman bridge,

The Roman Bridge, first century

and saw one other hiker with poles, but he was not on the same via we were. Plus he was German and could not help us with our confusing directions. At one moment we passed by a taciturn woman standing next to a large pile of smelly garbage in the middle of nowhere, but that was pretty much all the humanity we came across, if you don’t count the drivers who neither slowed nor veered, but also did not hit us.

One of the views on our walk. Pretty, isn’t it? Luckily, Annie noticed so I turned around to look also.

It was a glorious day and we did it! Yay feet and arms and legs and hips and general joie de vivre.

Near the end of the walk, Annie and I started singing: Both Sides Now, They Call the Wind Mariah, Tall Pine Trees Growing, plus a little bit of Belly Up to the Bar, Boys–stuff I haven’t sung since we were kids.

Dogs barked, but then they barked when we didn’t sing also. We had to stop regularly to consult directions that didn’t always make sense, and therefore we went on faith much of the time, which is of course appropriate considering the path. And we gave a grateful huzzah each time we saw the pilgrimage sign.

YAY! We’re not lost!

 

And now we are at the hard to reach but so peaceful Agriturismo Santa Giusmo on the outskirts of Poggio San Lorenzo, said to have 578 residents, but who’s counting? We are the only guests, but one of the family brought us a large beer to share. The swimming pool felt like someone had dumped cubes of ice into it along with a large bug population, but I went in anyway. The hot shower afterwards felt might fine, my friends.

Pretty place, and we are mighty tired. And so grateful to collapse!

 

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Firenze to Rieti-before the trek

The Duomo lit up–Just for us of course! It fills the sky.

Today I made the resolution not to despair if I could not figure out the blogging issue on this trip. But that doesn’t mean I will stop trying!

Today, Annie and I travel from Firenze to Rieti. If we were doing the full Francesco Pilgrimage, we would have started at the Duomo, but that takes a good 35 days and we don’t have that long–not this time. Speaking of the Duomo, take a look at what we saw last night on our way to our first Italian meal.

Annie arranged for us to stay right near the Duomo at the Hotel Balcony, and this morning I discovered coffee selections of every imaginable type at the press of a button. A learning moment: Cappuccino has very little coffee in it; Caffe latte has more. Both are good, but in tiny cups.

We then walked, each wearing an earbud attached to Annie’s phone (not an easy or graceful feat), from the Duomo to the Ponte di Vecchio as led by Rick Steve’s on his audio tour. We’d been to Firenze before, and had seen these sights before, but what a glorious city! Too bad we couldn’t stay to truly appreciate all the artistic glories of this city, but we needed to catch a train.

Some of what we saw:

Duomo in daylight may be even more impressive

The Rape of the Sabine Women, of particular interest since we start our trek in Rieta, where the Sabines came from. One story says that Romulus, after he killed his twin , Remus, needed women to grow his new city, so his men stole the women away from the Sabines. By the time they got their act together to attack Rome, the women were family to both sides, and pleaded that there be no fighting. Hm.

And next to this taking up large amounts of the piazza di Medici square…. huh? Maybe this is akin to the next colossus of Rome, but I don’t think so. Still, we see the signs that art is not dead in Florence

More art–this time it looks political. It stands next to the replica of  the David.

 

I  already know I packed way too much. How do I know? My luggage is a million pounds. The reason is that I decided to bring 5 pairs of shoes, including two pairs of hiking boots. Excessive for seven days of challenging walking? I think: yes. And perhaps I didn’t need to bring two pairs of sandals and some attractive walking shoes to go with a flirty outfit I decided I must pack to look swishy in Roma, but I was under pressure when I made these decisions. I also brought all the underwear I own and most of the socks, a sun hat, hiking poles, two liter-sized water bottles and a contigo to carry in the fanny pack I’m using as a purse. I brought two backpacks. What was I thinking? I don’t know. I was not thinking about hefting this bag up into train and bus overheads. Or even trundling it down streets which are not smooth asphalt but bumpy pavers or (uh-oh) cobblestones. I was not thinking of hotel rooms which are on the first floor–but that the first floor is, in Italy, up several staircases. Next time I will think of these things. Please.

But we made it to Rieti, only tripping and falling up stairs once as we tried to heave our bags quickly onto a train. The conductor laughed charmingly. We through several tunnels, which does make us think…hm, cutting through large hills, which we shall be walking.

One last quick view of

I’m not positive but I think this our path out of town tomorrow. Down. And up.

Rieti before I go to bed to prepare for the Big Hike tomorrow!

 

 

 

 

 

 

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On the Road, in the Skies

Longer line at the Peace Arch border than anticipated–scarily tight connection because of it.

Annie and me after a long night awake–and the airport ceiling, a work of op art.

I love this! The man inside this enormous clock, erases and re paints the hour and minute hands every minute. Looks totally real.

I’m writing most of this from this lounge spot. Can you see the grand piano? No one is paying the slightest attention.

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