After yesterday’s fiasco, we are regrouping. This is suppose to be a vacation and I’m looking at it as a training camp for my upcoming CDT hike. George does not want to hike the CDT, and he most certainly doesn’t have any plans of prepping for it. Truth be told, he didn’t prepare for this Camino so let’s get real! I just need to cool my jets and give him some grace. Today we took our first bus!

Google Maps is quite the inclusive app. Whether you want to walk, drive, take a train or a bus, it has an option for you. I plugged in bus to Siena and it had the time table, when and where it would pick you up and what’s the closest drop off to our next hotel. About thirty minutes later, we were at our destination. That would’ve taken all day, so now we have a Plan B.

Getting to our lodging was fairly painless until we entered the building. There was nothing mentioned on Hotels.com about climbing up the bell tower to get to our room. Five flights and 70 steps later, I arrived. As I checked in, the owner operator asked if I was solo? George was nowhere to be found. But in the stairwell, he was slowly but surely making his way. He’s my Sherpa, slemping his big ol’ backpack and not having a heart attack before getting to our room. Wow, there were a lot of stairs!

Siena is another cultural phenomenon of arts, deli’s, churches, and has the annual horse races in the Piazza del Campo. It has something for everyone. And that includes one of the best people watching in Italy. Everyone comes to the Piazza, rain or shine.

George and I were here some twenty years ago, and reminisced of our trip. Back in the day, Rick Steves was the guy to follow. A friend of mine Janice turned me on to his videos and books. I scoured through them and studied them like the Bible. One of his many recommendations was to come to the Piazza and go to the painted blue door in the NW corner of the plaza. Sure enough I did just that, and asked for a room. It overlooked the square, and was the best $50 we spent in Italy! The blue door is no longer there. They must’ve painted over it but the room is still overlooking the best view in Siena. Good times!

We spent the day walking and running between a few rain drops that fell from heaven above. When it started raining, we would find a church and sneak in. Churches here are like Starbucks at home. Every corner has one.

We made our way to the Duoma Di Siena, the biggest church in this region. It is massive and reminded me much of Santiago de Compostela. Since we were in town so early, we had the opportunity to be tourists. We bought our passes and were awe struck by the sheer beauty of this sacred place. The columns emerald green and white, and made of marble. The ceiling was hand painted with gold stars separately placed to showcase the stars above. As the Tour Guide revealed, it is, as if, you can reach the heavens and see God’s glory! It truly is spectacular. You absolutely understand how important Christianity was and still is, to this day. There is nothing so close to the grandiose truth, this Duomo has impacted the Siena region for centuries!

After our leisure day of milling around Siena, I began contemplating our next day or two. The next 3-4 stages are horrendous. So I’m installing a new and improved program. Cut off about 6-8km a day, find a town before the last exhausting climb and enjoy the sights, sounds and tastes of Italy. Hopefully this way I can keep my hubby from revolting and securing my hiking partnership for the next of this month. It’s a win-win for both of us. There’s still some climbing with 13-15 miles a day, but we won’t be killing ourselves and we will still make it to Rome with plenty of time to eat, drink and be merry.

The verdict is still out but I’ll be sure to update with the new and improved strategy. The fact is that this is a vacation of sorts. It’s suppose to be fun and giving us time away from house projects and everyday activities that seem to blur together. These are memories in the making, and not horror stories about “I made it out alive.” Well, the jury is still out but praying this is a better case scenario. Stay tuned for the never-ending saga of the Baraga’s on Holiday. Until you hear from me again, Arrivederci.

Another kick butt day on the VF. After our day off, you’d think we’d be all geared up and rearing to go. After all this is a vacation, is it not?We started out with a bang. Followed the route through town, which we had scoped out the day prior. We were fueled from breakfast, caffeine running through our veins, and the weather was unseasonably cool which makes for the ideal walking temperature.

As soon as we were out of town, we met up with a couple of Aussies- Marian and Glen. They were cutting this stage in half due to the extra miles and a wee bit more climbing than they prefer. Hmm, that’s not a terribly bad idea, but too late for that. Team Baraga has already booked for the night, so they marched on.

The road walk quickly turned to rocky gravel and off to the vineyards we went. This stage has been billed as one of the most scenic. We were not disappointed. Before long we were walking through someone’s prestige yard with newly carved steps and manicured pathways. It was clear that they wanted to route the pilgrims away from their backyard!

We dropped down into a gulley with a creek, then climbed back up to the vineyards, rinse and repeat. We did this all morning, ups and downs with no real reason to our madness. George’s knees weren’t happy, I was a bit over it but yet, we were following the signs, being good pilgrims, and so, we complied.

After a few hours of this, we made it to our first town, Camaggiori. Say that fast three times! It was unexpected with an incredible small but mighty meat market including fresh fruits and vegetables. They ran out of bread, but I was able to commandeer some apples, kiwi, avocado along with roasted vegetables that were swimming in olive oil and garlic. They were so dang good! I did learn something though. In these higher end places, you don’t touch the produce! The nice lady picks everything out for you. That was a first, but quite thoughtful and she even asked if I planned to eat the Sicilian Avocado today or wanted to let it ripen? I’m eating it right now and right here.

After devouring our lunch, we headed out towards another unexpected destination called Colle Di Val d’Elsa. I guess I should be more in tuned with where we are going, but half the fun are the surprises along the way. I think this little village must be one of the oldest places we have ever visited. It dates back to 4BC, and was remembered by Dante’s “Divine Comedy.” It truly is a marvel that these places are still standing and people are making a life here. 15% of the worlds lead crystal glasses are made here. Who would’ve known?

After meandering through the walls and rustic rumble of this ancient city, we descended to Elsa River. A bit of navigating occurred but we did finally arrive in what appeared my like the Amazon! Birds were screeching, hikers were abound and we would end up crossing the river no less than five times! For over two hours, we were walking in a completely different element than we have in the past week. And not a drop of rain from the forecasted guess of rain all day.

Close to 2pm, we arrived in the town of Scarna. We stopped at a church and met two incredibly gracious men who incited invited in for water and storytelling. No wonder it takes us all day to make it from point A to point B. We swapped stories of Camino’s, refueled and continued onward.

With still another 6-8 miles to go, RoadWalker George took out his map and found us the most direct route to Monteriggioni. Sure, it was on a narrow two lanes road with no shoulder, but it was a certain path to our room or a quick death. After many more ups and downs, we arrived in Strove, about two miles short of our final destination, Monteriggioni. I made the logical choice to stop, get a beer and regroup. It was closing in on 5pm, and we had two options. Crawl to our room or get a ride. Francesco was coming to work at the Bar and after apologizing that he could not give us a ride, came out as I finished my final swig of beer and said he’d love to provide us a coach to our room. Praise the Lord! We jumped in his car, before he could change his mind and in less than five minutes, I was checked in and jumped into the unheated pool! That’s a wrap. Another glorious and exhausting day of the Via Francigena. I betcha wish you were here!

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!