Eva on the Via Francigena (and beyond)

Song of the Day: Controllo – Thegiornalisti

On a cool and gray morning walking around Aosta, this song came up on my Spotify. I’m glad to be back in Italy.

Tomorrow is a long day and I need to get to bed, so this will be a relatively short update as I took the “rest” in rest day seriously. I was up relatively early and finished watching the F1 race — a fantastic performance by Carlos Sainz, who not only won the race, breaking Max Verstappen’s winning streak, but showed his strategic prowess. He’s starting to get the hype he deserves.

Afterwards I had to do a few administrative things (e.g., compiling some tax documents). Once that was done and I had put in another load of laundry, I headed out for breakfast. I stopped at a cafe in the main piazza and sat outside with a hot chocolate and a croissant, under an awning to avoid the slight drizzle. I worked on my blog (I was a day behind) and enjoyed watching people pass by, happy to be back in a rhythm more similar to my day-to-day in Rome. In fact, the cafe itself reminded me a bit of some of the bars in Rome, including L’Incontro, where I used to go for coffee every morning when I was briefly living near the Vatican.

After breakfast (by the way, another surprisingly good cornetto — I guess I am glad for the French influence), I went for a wander and ended up at Aosta’s Roman theater, which was free to enter for the day. I took a lap around the ruins, which are still in pretty good shape all things considered. Aosta was founded in 25 BC as Augusta Praetorium, and many of the landmarks including the Roman walls and arched gates remain. The theater had a number of informational panels highlighting other Roman ruins on the path I will follow in the coming days, including the famous Roman Road and arch outside of Donnas, and the bridge in Pont Saint Martin.

I then went to the grocery store to pick up breakfast for tomorrow as well as some needed items, including a toothbrush and some white vinegar, which I was hoping to use to clean out my camelback tube again and also to try and remove some of the ickiness of my pack straps, which suffered greatly during this latest heatwave. That done, I stayed in the Airbnb for awhile hanging up my laundry and cleaning, and took a quick nap. I headed back out for lunch at a restaurant in town, where I had a delicious bowl of agnolotti del plin and a glass of wine.

Then it was time for my main task of the day: purchasing replacements for my boots, whose soles are looking worse for wear. I figured Aosta would be a good place for this as it is very much a mountain town, and there seemed to be a bunch of outdoor shops. However, the first one I visited had nothing in my size. The second one I spent about 30 minutes trying on various trail runners, but remained unconvinced of the options there. I know trail runners are all the rage for things like the Camino, but after 1000 kilometers in proper hiking boots, something so lightweight and unprotective makes me feel a bit vulnerable. So, I went to a third store, where a grumpy and not super helpful sales associate handed me a few options to try that were a bit more substantial. Through some trial and error with limited guidance, I managed to get what I think should be the right size — for these things you want to size up at least one or two sizes since your feet swell so much when walking. He wanted me to take a lighter weight shoe that, according to him, was more modern technology. But again it felt a little too light and my feet were sliding around, so I ultimately ended up with a pair of essentially low-cut hiking shoes, with pretty substantial soles and more padding around the foot. We’ll see how it goes.

Also, I don’t particularly care, but I found it funny that a few of the sales associates seemed keen to explain to me that my hiking boots were not a good option for the Via. I think they thought I was starting in Aosta. I finally picked up the boots, showed them the soles and (in Italian) said “I walked here from England in these. They worked just fine.” After that I got much better service.

Anyway, it was raining pretty hard by the time I got the shoes, so headed back to the apartment to work on booking my next stages and keeping up with fellow pilgrims. Patrick gave me a helpful heads up about a dangerous diversion on the already-long path tomorrow and suggested I take the bike trail instead. Kerry also told me that apparently there had been a landslide between Martigny and Orsieres sometime after her and Andy passed through — a pilgrim coming behind them had showed them a video of the wreckage. Yet another scary reminder of the power of nature.

Then at 7 I headed out to meet Ken and Terry for dinner! (Remember them?) We last saw each other in Chateauvillain, so had a lot to catch up on — that was two countries ago. They are doing well and in good spirits, happy to be heading downhill from the pass. They also met the American hospice-mates before their double stage to the pass — it is crazy how everyone becomes interconnected on this journey.

We ended up sitting at a restaurant that only carried local products, with a strange duo of our waiter (who insisted on only speaking English) and an older gentleman responsible for bringing out the food (who only spoke Italian, and was constantly berated by the waiter). We had some delicious local salami and prosciutto, and all of us had a polenta with beef slow-cooked in red wine: hearty and delicious, just what pilgrims need. Over dinner Ken suggested a song for breaking in my new shoes: Quality Shoe by Mark Knopfler. I’ve just listened to it and it makes a great walking song, as promised — check it out! He’s got a unique voice and that great jangly guitar. And it certainly reflects my shopping experience today!

As I said, it was great catching up with them. We also discussed how lucky it was to run into each other in France — it’s our expectation that Italy will have more pilgrims and more opportunities to socialize, but the connections made in those lonely French stages feel meaningful in a completely different way because they were so uncommon. Many pilgrims start the Via at the pass, or in Lausanne, because France is seen as empty and challenging. But I think it is so worth it, if you have the time, to walk the French section. I’ve talked a lot about the connections I’ve made there so won’t go into it again, but also having that more lonely experience makes the rest of the walk much more powerful in comparison.

We also talked about plans ahead, including the famous rice fields. It’s not uncommon for pilgrims to skip these stages as they are notoriously long, hot, boring, and mosquito-ridden. Some call them the Italian equivalent of Spain’s Maseta. I shared my belief which is that — like the French section — you have to have sections of the pilgrimage that are more difficult, or boring, or otherwise not picture-perfect. That balance is what makes the experience interesting. If you want perfect all the time, go interrailing, or do a weeklong hiking trip somewhere. Some of the art of this journey is finding the interest in places that might on the surface be considered uninteresting, and beauty in the boring. Ken summed it up perfectly: there is a spectrum from “tourist” to “purist” that every pilgrim is managing — and day to day, your level changes. I really like this framework as it is a balance I have thought about a lot.

We said our goodbyes and wished each other luck, as I think it’s unlikely we will cross paths again between here and Rome (but who knows!) I wandered back to the apartment through the dark, quiet streets of Aosta, once again pondering what it means to be back in Italy, hand what it means to have walked here. Well, I’ll have plenty of time to consider that further — I have 6 more weeks (ish) to go.