Eva on the Via Francigena (and beyond)

Song of the Day: Back on the Chain Gang — Pretenders

“I found a picture of you / those were the happiest days of my life”

A great song, and one I used to listen to a lot towards the end of my time in Boston. And felt appropriate as I marched onward across Italy, rejuvenated after a proper rest day.

I woke up naturally at 5:15, incredibly, but didn’t manage to drag myself from under the covers until 5:30 or so. I began packing, having left a lot to do last night in my exhaustion. Normally I wake up with an idea of when I want to leave but no real time pressure, but today I had a train to catch. So, finally packed just after 6, I had a banana for breakfast and headed into the darkness in search of the station.

It was completely dark still outside, and I called my dad to catch up as I walked. Just after 6:30 I made it to the train station and bought my ticket. My train was already in the station, though it wouldn’t leave for 10 minutes, so I made my way to the platform and eventually snagged a seat. As we pulled out of Piacenza and rumbled along the Po plain, I was suddenly overcome with sadness. The experiences reminded me of my daily commute (well, for the days I went into the office) in Rome, and for some reason this experience made me remember that this chapter of my life is coming to a close. I didn’t have too much time to dwell on this, though, as my train pulled into Fidenza.

I disembarked in Fidenza, the sun now starting to rise, and made my way through the charming old town to the Fidenza Cathedral. I stood outside for awhile, staring at the various friezes on the facade, looking for the famous frieze of pilgrims headed to Rome. Just as I found it (actually on the south tower) a man came out of the Cathedral and asked if I wanted a stamp. Never one to turn that down, I agreed and followed him inside, where he had me wait in the crypt, which was lined with stations of the cross. After a few minutes he reemerged, stamped my passport and headed me a few prayer cards, and invited me to spend as much time in the Cathedral as I wanted before leaving.

I thanked him, did a quick lap of the Cathedral, and made my way toward the path as I had a long day ahead of me. Despite its failures these last few times, I was once again using Maps.Me to save a few miles. After chatting with my brother for a bit on the phone, I walked on the sidewalk on a main road out of town and turned onto what looked like a small country road. Unfortunately this wasn’t quite the case during morning rush hour, and I was passed near-constantly by cars. Looking ahead, I realized I was coming up to a busy roundabout also packed with cars. Luckily the roundabout meant they weren’t going very fast, and I crossed easily to continue on another road, this one slightly less busy.

Off to my right, I could just begin to see the outlines of the Apennine Mountains on the skyline — we’re back, baby! Putting the plains behind me (soon). I was very excited for the return of the mountains, though a bit nervous about how my blistered heel will hold up. But that’s a problem for another day. In the meantime, I was treated for most of the morning to beautiful views of rolling farmland and mountains in the distance.

I turned off the asphalt onto a gravel road past farms, which had recently manured their fields. Two different unleashed dogs ran after me, urging me to stay away from their farms. Luckily these ones were all bark and no bite. I also saw something moving on the trail ahead of me and squinted to see what it was — another dog? Then it turned and came out from the tall grass and I realized it was a turkey! It was hanging out roadside with a few companions, all of whom quickly skedaddled back to their home as I passed.

Back on roads for awhile, and then another gravel track that was marked as a private road. Feigning ignorance I continued on. This worked out okay until I passed a group of houses, where a man with a large potbelly and only his shortest shorts came out to investigate. I greeted him nervously — he had the vibe of someone who, in the US, might come after you with a shotgun for trespassing — but this seemed to satisfy him and I continued on the path over grassy hills. I had noted that I might need to ford a stream if the path didn’t have a bridge. The good news was that the stream was no more — completely dry — but, the path had also disappeared. I hacked my way up the opposite bank and eventually rejoined the path, blisters complaining and ankles scraped.

Another two hours on quiet roads brought me into Medesano, the first town I had seen all day. It was baking hot already at this point — just before noon — and I had depleted all of my water. I stumbled into an open bar, where a bunch of locals stopped me to ask about my trip and to recommend local foods to try in the next stages. Grateful but exhausted, I finally excused myself to sit down, drink a ginger beer in one gulp, and down half of a 1.5L bottle of water in a matter of seconds. I sat for awhile, staring mindlessly at my phone and trying to rehydrate, and eventually ordering a slide of focaccia / pizza for lunch. In retrospect, I should have used this opportunity to change socks, but I was inside and didn’t want to be rude. Plus, I only had 6 miles or so left — how bad could it be?

By the time I left Medesano the temperature was comfortably over 80 degrees, and I was melting. Even my umbrella couldn’t provide the respite I needed. The path was a straight shot here, following a bike line parallel to a busy road. I saw ahead on my map that there was a “Punta Sosta” (rest point) for the Via Francigena — surely this would have a fountain where I could cool off! Unfortunately upon arriving I discovered that no, this was just a picnic table. Frustrated, I continued on.

Further on the bike path I passed a local man out for a walk. He stopped me and asked if I knew the path, which I responded “I think…” Very helpfully, he instructed me on the location of the next and only fountain for the next hour and a half, and suggested I follow the road out of the next town. The signposted route involved crossing a stream, which he said was high now and I would have difficulty getting through. Note taken! I followed his advice and, after what seemed like an eternity, arrived at the water fountain where I wet my hat and bandana, and ended up splashing my head and most of my upper body as well. Thus relieved — somewhat — I continued on, through an underpass and then into some scrubby not-quite-forest, a reprieve from the asphalt.

Suddenly, I heard a noise, and realized there were two people sitting among the trees! They stood up and introduced themselves as two Dutch pilgrims who had started walking not too long ago, in Pavia. We walked together for a bit, but my pace was faster, so I figured I would see them at the hostel. After a bit of walking in blissful shade, the last stretch followed a sun-baked gravel road next to an industrial plant.

I called my mom and then Nathan to take my mind off the heat, and soon was up a hill and walking over the extremely long bridge to Fornovo di Taro. This bridge spanned the Taro river — I assume at one point this river was wide enough to warrant such a bridge, which took 15 minutes to walk across, but today it barely looked like more than a creek. I wonder if it is always this low this time of year — I was surprised by the level after the very active Ticino and Po rivers. Either way, the view of the riverbed was beautiful, with some trees just starting to change colors (oh, right, it’s fall…). I snapped a few photos before continuing on and into the small historical center of Fornovo di Taro.

I made it to the Parish, but as I stood at the gate looking for a sign of the hostel, a woman shouted out to me in English, “What do you want?” I responded in Italian that I was a pilgrim looking for the hostel. “It’s not open till 3,” she shouted, “you should go take a walk.” I sighed — it was only 2:30. “Thank you,” I responded, “but I just walked like 20 miles to get here — I think I’ll sit instead.” She directed me around the corner to the church’s garden, where I took off my shoes and socks, assessed the damage, and restocked on water at the fountain there.

Promptly at 3 I was let in by the lovely Paola, who handed me the keys to an upstairs apartment. At the moment it was just me, but I figured the Dutch women would arrive eventually — in the meantime, I dropped my things, took a cold shower (there was no hot water — but of all days for that, this was a good one), and did my washing. As I was getting my things organized, with a burst of noise the Dutch women walked in, asserting that they didn’t want to share a dorm so were going to take the other room. However, after they went to speak with Paola, they were evidently informed that only one room was available — so it goes. Our other roommate is an Australian woman named Liz who started in Bourg St. Pierre — she actually started at the pass, walked down to BSP, and then walked back up the next day — impressive! We chatted for a bit before I was asked to move my things out of the dorm room by the Dutch women (in their defense, they do definitely smell of sweat), and I decided it was a good time to sightsee.

There isn’t much in Fornovo, but I did a quick lap of the centro storico and settled down at a bar for a snack, since my lunch had been small. I was joined by all three of my bunk mates — over a glass of wine they shared their experiences walking the Camino di Santiago. We ended up eating at the bar as well. The Dutch women ordered carbonara, which was almost tempting even though I am really holding off until Rome (or at least Lazio). I was vindicated as soon as the plates arrived — I could tell by the smell that the choice of meat was all wrong. I ended up with gnocchi alla Sorrentina which were fine but not mind-blowing.

We headed back to the hostel and ended up having an early night — lights out by 8:45! I was grateful for it after a long day, with an early wake up scheduled for tomorrow.

Final mileage: 18.90mi
Walking time: 7h 9m
Elevation gain: 182 ft

Accommodation: Fornovo di Taro’s parish hostel. Relatively bare-bones but generally fine, the main issue is the lack of hot water!