First morning we woke up to rain, glorious liquid sunshine! I’ll take it. I love weather, ever-changing seasons and spicing up our walk with something fresh, like mud! Nothing better than squishy mud underfoot! And slippery slick muck, that you really should use hiking sticks for. We are ready so bring it on.

No big rush out the door this morning as it’s our shortest day of this entire trek. No other day on the horizon that has less than 10 miles. The stages, as they call them, are dictated by the location of towns that serve pilgrims. There are smaller villages sprinkled into a days hike but most do not have hotels, albergues or hostels. So we are limited to the stages that Sigeric journeyed over a thousand years ago.

History of VF

Sigeric’s Journey: In 990 AD, Sigeric the Serious, Archbishop of Canterbury, traveled to Rome to receive his pallium from Pope John XV. He documented his 80 overnight stops on his return journey, providing the most authoritative source for the historical itinerary. To this day, his path has been traveled by thousands of pilgrims. Back in the day, the VF was only one of three pilgrimages after Santiago and Jerusalem.

Nature of the Paths: It was not a single, paved road, but a network of paths used by monks, knights, and tradesmen. Pilgrims walked for months from England, Switzerland, France and Spain to reach Rome, often in groups for added protection. They sought penance and brought, along with faith, stories and trade to the towns along the way.

So now you know a bit of history regarding this path that George and I are traveling. Back to our great adventure. With umbrellas up and rain jackets on, we headed out. Back down the trail we climbed up yesterday. Oh the pointless ups and downs. We made a right turn and proceeded south towards Rome.

I was wondering if the pilgrims would be out in force, with the change of weather. But sure as the sun rises and sets, we were met with other rain slicked pelegrinos! It’s always best when we can all commiserate in these hardships together. Pilgrims are indeed, a hardy bunch.

We had a short road walk before we went out into the mud infested trail. The dirt is a mixture of clay and goo. If you’ve ever been to Calistoga Hot Springs and you soaked in the mud baths, that’s what I’m talking about. Stick to your shoes, goopy messy gunk! The saving grace was within the mud were patches of lumpy clumps of grass that make adhering to the ground easier. Yep, it was fun stuff.

We climbed, which in mud, is much better than heading downhill. At least upward, you can dictate your pace but downhill, it’s not so easy. We came across a group of 20 or so locals, like a Sierra Club of hikers out on their morning stroll. Yep, in Italy the weather doesn’t change the hiking plans. And there was not a soul under the age of 60! No umbrellas, just rain soaked jackets and water logged shoes. These Italians are Stallions!!!

Both George and I were a bit slower this morning. The biggest factor is we are not eating enough. We woke up this morning, no coffee, no tea, no croissants. Well, we did have fresh strawberries with Nutella but not enough to sustain us for a five hour hike. Being Sunday, nothing was open so we ventured out like teenagers. Nothing but brawn yet no brains!

Our one and only mission was to get to San Gimignano and relax. Take a zero and regroup. And that’s what we did. We had a mixture of muddy trails and road walking. It wasn’t terrible and best part of it, was we were in town before 2pm. Happy Mother’s Day to me!

I booked us a hotel for two night, smack dab in the middle of the piazza, Leon Blanco. And to my surprise was the number one most famous Gelato in the world, right out our window! How much does God love me? So much!

We offloaded all our wet gear, took showers to warm our drenched bodies and off we went in search of food. Biggest issue is that now it’s siesta time 2:30-6:00pm, and we were smack in the middle of it. Fortunately, there was one restaurant that serves food all day long. Bless their hearts. We sat down with white linen table clothes. All fine dining as it should be for Mama’s and Pilgrims! I had Zuppi di Verdana with Risotto Fruita di Mare. George had soup with his lasagna and we both were happy pelegrinos. Now for Gelato.

When we first arrived, the piazza was filled with people and there was a line at least a hundred people deep. I had no idea what they were up to until George told me they are waiting for gelato. That must be some yummy cream and sugar! After our meal, we headed over and indulged. Mint and Coconut were my choices, and oh boy, it was finger linkin good. I can’t tell you if it’s the World’s Most Famous Gelato but someone somewhere has already decided that, so who am I do disagree? It’s the darn best tasting gelato to me!

Back to our room we waddled and rested for the night. Zero Day – Tomorrow will be a day of relaxation, touristy events and immersing ourselves with all things Italian. Just what the doctor ordered!

It’s just keeps getting tougher. Well, my early morning shortcut didn’t help matters much, but the intention was good. Our mornings have been fairly relaxed. Alarm goes off at 6:30am and by the time we pack up and head out, it’s closer to 8am. Oh well, we are on vacation, right? I would say George thinks he is back in Boot Camp. In fact he said today that Basic Training was easier than this Camino! Wow, I think I missed my calling.

We stopped at the local deli, made up a couple of sandwiches, fruit and cookies for the road. The word on the trail was there was no water, no bars, no resupply’s. We were literally on our own, self-supported with no help in sight.

I had mapped us a route using Mapy. It’s the European equivalent to our Google Maps. I plugged in our final destination, shared with the app that we were walking, and it came up with the most direct link. Most direct was the issue.

All was good as we walked out of town. We hooked up with the Danish Mom and Son from yesterday. When the Via Francigena said to go left, we bided them farewell as Mapy told us to merge right. We were headed down a rather steep paved road and were passed by 30-40 motorcycles. They were the Vespa types, nothing too crazy, and some of chaps were dressed in costumes, like aliens, Superman and just super fun attire.

As we made it to the bottom of the grade, we turned left onto a gravel road. Within five minutes, I knew this was a bad idea. We walked into private property and this sweet Italian Woman came out trying to explain to me in her native tongue, that we needed to head south, up the hill. Then we would be back on the trail. George had this priceless look on his face that told me he was having no part of that. And we headed straight up, by way of a grassy slippery slope and a vineyard. Needless to say, my shortcut didn’t pan out.

After an hour of George pouting and me eating crow, we finally connected back on the route and met the many pilgrims who had left an hour afterwards. Well at the very least, we were back and accounted for, and no more not-so shortcuts! We had many hills to climb, hence the reason they call this place the Tuscan Hillside! But at the least, it was on gravel roads with obvious paths, rather than mountain goat trails.

By the time lunch came, we were at the one and the only Cathedral of the day, Santi Pietro. It must’ve had 75-100 steps to get to it, and very reluctantly, we climbed. Oh, but was it worth the sweat and tears. The Germans who we have been walking with, are a Christian group of Lutherans and Methodist. They plan a pilgrimage every two years, spreading their love and faith. There is a total of 22 of them, and as I walked in they started singing. This church came alive with harmonious melody. It was such a blessing to be in this chapel with my fellow pilgrims lifting their voices to heaven above. Oh how the Lord was glorified and I was amazed by their beautiful voices. The rest of the day was lackluster after that.

We carried on towards the rolling hills of Tuscany. Everywhere you looked was green. Green fields, green trees, green moss on rooftops, green, green, green. We continued climbing up and down ridge lines which supplied 360 degree views as far as the eye could see.

It was blazing hot so George and I pulled out our umbrellas to shade us from the blaring sun. George was running out of water and knew for sure, he was going to have heat stroke. As we came to a road crossing, lo and behold, there was a water spigot. It’s a good thing because my big burly husband was just about to loose his shit. I think I can honestly write that.

We filled up, poured cold water over our hot sweaty selves and were able to punch out the last six miles. It was touch go for a bit, but as the town appeared, I made the command decision to get my butt in gear. I left George and the remaining pilgrims in the dust, and headed into town for the mandatory checkin before closing. The last four miles were straight up, and I was like a horse going back to the barn. Even our new friends from South Carolina called me a horse. Hmm, I think that’s a nice way of saying, I was on a mission.

I made it in time to get the code for our Apartment, stopped at the grocery store for libations and dinner supplies, and by the time I was done shopping, George had arrived. I was quite shocked as I thought he might’ve found himself a taxi! But he did it again and made it through another day. I’m thinking this Via Francigena is a bit more than he envisioned, and I’m gonna have to agree. It certainly is a great training regiment for the CDT!

First things first, George is a rockstar! Today was a tough day and I too, was getting my butt kicked. Woke up to blue skies, song birds singing and the temperature was perfect. Slight breeze and all started out fabulous. Before I get to the final ascent, let’s just say the last couple of hours were mighty tough.

I think we both have adjusted to the time change. Last night George fell asleep while we were sitting in the lobby. He was wiped. When he started snoring, I made him go to the room. Yes there were people socializing and he was cutting some ZZZ’s. No protest and off he went.

This morning we started with a great breakfast and I even packed my leftovers for the trail. We had to find our way back to the Camino and by 9am, we were back with our bubble. There’s a group of 15-20 who are within our space all day.

Funny we have not met a single American, but People from England, Ireland, Australia, Denmark, lots of Germans and a handful of Italians. They are all about the same age as George and I, mid 20’s and 30’s! Yeah right. Honestly, they appear to be retired for the most part close to 60’s and 70’s. There are a handful of kids around 20 something possibly hiking with their parents.

The trail was ideal today. After the catchup miles to get back on track, we mostly were traveling on dirt, rocky cobblestone or old roads with some grassy areas, which George was not too keen to. Some grumbling about his knee hurting. I was tickled pink since this is my cup of tea. More dirt splattered with a little, not a lot, of mud, makes me happy and glee.

The scenery was spectacular with rural villages and small towns along the way. Each town we stopped in had a typical bar with one woman working behind the counter. She was the barista, the sandwich maker, the orange juice squeezer and pilgrim stamper! When a local stopped by for a caffe, they always went first and the pilgrims waited. Seems only fair in small town Tuscany.

The first 10-12 miles went smoothly. We stopped a few times, refilled our water bottles and stopped at the pharmacy for salt tablets. We are depleted from sweating so much, that George thought some powdery substance had jumped on his shirt. Nope, it was just excess salt that stained his smartwool tee. We grabbed some more electrolytes and off we went. The gang caught up in no time flat, and it appeared we were all headed to the same spot, San Miniato. it’s a fortified city on top of the hill and was used to keep the hoodlums out! Like me and George!

We all stopped in Poine a Cappiano for lunch. And when I say all of us, it was every pilgrim that we’ve met on trail. After inundated the one woman barista, we sat outside and talked of the upcoming section. Still another 8 plus miles and a climb up the big mountain.

The gang left together and followed the canal for what seemed like eternity. It was a grassy knoll in the midst of farmlands and hunting grounds. We heard what sounded like duck shot next to the trail but no one was concerned. Finally we arrived to one of the final stops Fucchio, a town that sits up on a hill with nice shops and lots of churches.

George and I grabbed some water, refilled our bottles and carried on. For close to an hour or more, we saw no one. I began to believe that they all bailed and took a bus to our final destination. With 3 miles to go, and a hill to climb, I suggested getting our music out and tuning out the rest of the world. This was our saving grace and gave us mindless pain.

As we came to our final mile or so, the gang showed up. Nope, they didn’t take the bus and were ready for the final push. I took the most direct path which sent us straight up the mountain. George shared with me that this is where people have heart attacks, and never make it. Really? Well there were many markers along the way which I thought were just that, markers. But now that he said that, they could be tombstones! Hopefully not.

We climbed and climbed and climbed and when we thought we were at the top, we had to climb some more. It wasn’t until 6pm before we finally made it to our apartment. Thank goodness, because if George didn’t have a heart attack, I sure was close. We opened the door and as usually, I was in the shower first. How am I going to make it on the CDT without a shower for a week? This is all making me rethink my next hiatus!

Once showered and cleaned, we made our way to the one horse town. I’m not sure how many people live here but for a Friday night, it was 80% pilgrims with a few locals sprinkled in. After gelato, we had dinner. Meatballs and spaghetti and Caprese Salad. That was it. We both were tired so back to the room we went, and hitting the bed early tonight. Well maybe 10pm is about as early as it gets. Tomorrow is gonna be a long waterless stretch so we need to regroup for that.

After a two year hiatus, the Baraga’s have finally committed to another Camino. This year we are in George’s homeland of Italy where he is quite the star. With a name like Italo, aka Giorgio, he fits in with all the locals. His native language Italian has come back quite well. Roll your R’s and speak a with your hands. Everyone loves him!

Our first leg was fairly flat, with an assortment of pavement, asphalt and cobblestones. There was a rare 100’ section of dirt which I incorporated only because I needed my feet to hit something that had a slight bit of give. Even if it was for a moment or two.

To my surprise we are not the only Pelegrino’s on the trail. Today I counted no less than 20 others with some variety of packs on their backs. Well, minus the one gal from Australia, who had nothing at all donned on her back. Evidently her hubby was the personal Sherpa. Oh what true love!

The weatherman was wrong again as there was not a single drop of rain on the horizon. The sun was out in full force and my sweat glands were operating perfectly. How can this be? They, whoever they are, predicted an 80% chance of rain today. No complaints here.

Andrew, who moved from England after completing the entire route of the Via Francigena told us, it rains here all the time. Hence the reason everything is so incredibly green. He must be right because there are many canals and boggy areas that are filled to the brim with mucky water. But for now, we are basking in the sunshine and sweating like pigs!

Via Francigena is a lesser known Camino and with that comes less bars, cafes and restaurants. We absolutely need to search them out or look for other pilgrims that are congregating around like lounge lizards. That was my first clue when we came upon a Bar today. Not like the American Bars with cowboys and beer flowing, but with espresso machines, croissants and pastries. Some have alcoholic drinks intermingled but it’s not the norm. After all, we are still in need a walking some miles, and who can drink a beer and walk another half a day? Well, come to think of it, that would be me.

By mid-afternoon, we arrived in Altopascio, a quaint town with mini cars and lots of horns blaring. I’m not sure what happened to the cars in Italy? They are shorter than American cars, much smaller but with mighty and active horns. It seems everyone likes to beep, honk and just drive like crazy people! One of the most logical reasons for these mini cars is that parking spots are prime real estate. You couldn’t maneuver an SUV or Rivian around here. Tiny spaces call for itty bitty vehicles.

Once in town, I was on the hunt for potato chips. My body was craving salt and nothing else would do. I found a Bar, grabbed some chips and water for me and my man. He too was done! Once we inhaled the chips, we moved to gelato. And after that, I was ready for pizza! All food groups were covered: salt, sugar, fat and beer. Well of course, who can have pizza without beer?

With two plus miles to go, we were fueled up, put on our big fat packs and finished up our jaunt to some obscure B&B in the outskirts of town. Definitely need to check the map before I book next time because when you make it to the final stage of the day, no one should have to walk another 2 km. That is just all sorts of wrong!

The place was actually quite nice, super clean with beautifully kept grounds. As soon as we got in the room, I was stripped down and in the shower! George didn’t even have a chance to beat me. So day one is in the books. I didn’t kill my husband but he definitely is rethinking this easy peasy trail. Before we left this morning, he saw a sign overhead for the Torture Museum. It was quite the appropriate signage for an untrained man who hiked his first 16 mile day in over two years! Welcome to the Camino Baby!