Day 17, April 29 Montefiscione – Viterbo
19 k
I had a leisurely start this morning, enjoying my coffee with Ray. I finished packing in the hallway as the nuns showed up with buckets and mops, tired of waiting for me to leave. This was a beautiful, if rather boozy stay.
Today’s walk is short and flat, even if it does start out with a set of massive stairs heading out of Montefiascone. Despite my late start it’s just me and some cats roaming the streets this morning.
Walking into Viterbo was culture shock. You could feel the approaching modernity, but when I saw the big box stores, the Italian equivalent of our Walmart/Costco neighbourhoods it was positively jarring. Suddenly I started to see garbage on the ground – the first I’ve seen in this country.
All of a sudden I saw something all too familiar – McDonald’s trash. There’s a McDonald’s here? All of a sudden I started to salivate. I’m not kidding. The idea of “two all beef patties, special sauce, lettuce, cheese, pickles onions on a sesame seed bun” in Italy was visceral. A few blocks later something even more exciting came into view – Burger King! If there’s anything better than a Big Mac it’s a Whopper. Nothing could have stopped me from lunching here.
A few blocks later my culture shock abated as I walked into the old town of Viterbo where I am staying at the San Bernadino Monastery. You would never know there was a Jysk just outside these walls.
The monastery did not have a record of my reservation. Once I showed them our correspondence there ensued a lot of gesturing among the nuns and myself and eventually I was shown to a really beautiful private room with three beds, all for me. It’s in the very centre of old town. A quick shower and laundry and I’m out to explore. Their WiFi isn’t working and I really, really wish I knew more Italian. I’m sure I could have fixed it. Sometimes no WiFi is a gift though.
I’m getting closer to Rome, and thus to the popes. Seven popes have been coronated in the Cathedral here.
Dinner is scheduled for 8:30 PM but as I’m enjoying a glass of wine at the bar just outside of the chapel I here beautiful singing. The door is ajar so I wander in to listen. I don’t really know how to pray. Maybe my meditation is prayer – I really have no religious education to know the difference, but tonight the nuns are singing and I feel compelled to kneel and linger and meditate in this beautiful atmosphere.
Dinner is served late and cold. The nuns were too busy singing and praying to concentrate in the kitchen. I share my meal with a quiet British couple from Essex. Perhaps they’ve also had a spiritual experience tonight.
Day 18, April 30 Viterbo to (almost) Vitrella
13.8 k
I leave Viterbo through the Arch of the Popes. Everything is papal now.
I follow a very narrow street surrounded by high cliffs and shared with cars traveling in both directions. There’s a shrine in the cliff on this road and all I can imagine is that it must be for all the pilgrims run over by cars in this spot.
The walk was too short today but I am staying in heaven! I have booked a bed at Agricasale Oasi del Viandante, a family run ostello and farm just 3 k from Vitrella.
There’s a big garden, ducks, chickens, fowl, guinea pigs, wine, beer and dinner served at 8 PM. There’s a rain shower head in the washroom the size of a dinner plate. My shared room has bunks with privacy curtains and so far no one else to share with. Eventually one fellow shows up and takes a bed so far away from me I may as well be in a private room.
Three octogenarian Norwegians show up for a while to share a glass of wine with. They all wish they’d booked a bed here but eventually they need to keep walking.
Dinner is in the kitchen; many pizzas cooked in the big oven right beside me. There are six of us, the hosts, three people who all live in Rome and me. All of the food and the endless wine is all produced on this farm. Everyone speaks just enough English. One of the best stays of the walk.
Day 19, May 1 Vitrella to Sutra
27.8 k
My hosts left their kitchen open for me. I impressed them by making my own coffee in the funky upside down percolator these Italians use to make espresso. They left out some home made almond cake to see me on my way. By 7:15 am I was on the trail.
The trail today, while long is relatively flat and after 19 days of hiking I feel pretty strong. Sutra, though has proven to be a problem. May 1 here is Festa dei Lavoratori, a holiday akin to our Labour Day in Canada. The only place I could find to book in Sutra is actually a little ways out of town Rifugio del Pellegrino. It is owned by a Canadian of all things and he offers to pick me up in town and give me a ride.
I lingered in town with friends before summoning that ride. It’s a beautiful day with a holiday atmosphere and I find my Norwegian friends, Bernard and Gina all enjoying aperol spritzer’s in the sunshine. This is one time I really wish I’d found a booking in town.
This did turn out to be the very worst stay of my trip. The place was not a hostel, just a house the owner filled with beds. One of the cardinal rules of calling yourself a rifugio is that everyone staying there is a pilgrim. That matters because we are all arriving on foot, tired and looking just for rest. There was a kitchen in which nothing worked, not even running water, a bathroom whose door would not close and I shared my room with, wait for it – musicians! Unlike everywhere else I stayed the owner put a price tag on everything. There was wine, for a fee, snacks – pay here. Nothing about this place felt like a rifugio, not even the price of almost 50 euro.
I shared a joint with the musicians, who eventually went out and let me fall asleep. I drank the wine and ate the snacks without leaving a nickle – the owner did not deserve it. I left so early in the morning he never got a chance to charge me. He actually called me the next day to ask if I’d forgotten to pay. I said “No, I didn’t forget anything.” I almost hope he reads this.
Day 20, May 2 Sutri to Monterosi
17.8 k
I’m out of here before the crack of dawn, walking the 3 k along suburban roads to get to Sutri before any musicians or hosts realize I’m gone. Sutri itself made it easy for me to leave the bad taste of the night behind me.
Sutri is home to an amazing Archeological Park. Admission is 10 euro, only 8 for pilgrims. I spent all morning exploring the amphitheater, ancient church and surrounding park. In Rome there would be 100,000 people here, but just a couple of days walk away and there are just a few of us, mostly carrying backpacks and looking just like me. Before heading off to Monterosi I walked back into Sutri for my morning coffee and light snack.
Of course the walk to Monterosi felt longer than the 15k it was. I had a full day of exploring before I even started. I’ve booked a single room at Il Giardinetto di Dilyana. As if the Gods are aware of my previous night, I am rewarded with elegance. I’d booked a single room but they had double-booked. Instead I got the suite. I have a full kitchen, separate bedroom and a gorgeous sun-soaked terrace.
Immediately I headed out to the grocery store and to explore this cute little town. There’s a church here where I lit candles for some friends not as lucky as me experiencing health problems back home. I found wine and dinner at the grocery store and went home, where I did not budge for the rest of the night.
For days now Ray has been suggesting that I have made an error in my dates. I brushed him off – what does he know? There’s an eight hour time difference between us that’s confusing him.
I may or may not have a bed in a hostel booked in Campagnano di Roma for tomorrow night. I say maybe because the only way I could book this place was with a phone call. I practiced my Italian request, and all possible responses for an entire day before calling but still am not sure I was confirmed. When I called back to confirm I got a “si, si” click. They hung up on me. It is still the long weekend so I’m pretty concerned about arriving to no where to sleep.
Tonight, with reality facing me I realize, Ray has been right all along. I am a day behind schedule. I have a booking in Rome I don’t want to change. I have a very insecure booking in Campagnano di Roma. I have 40 k to La Storta. I sent my booking in La Storta a question, “is my room available for tomorrow instead? How late can I arrive?” The answer was “yes, and 9 PM.” I’d better get a good nights sleep.
Day 21, May 3 Monterosi to La Storta
39.7 k
Here’s a lesson for that last guy with the price tags on the yogurt containers. My room here in Monterosi includes breakfast but I told them I wanted to leave very early. They delivered an absolutely wonderful packed lunch for me, and asked if I needed anything else. I was up at 6 and on the trail by 6:30 AM.
I called Ray from the road and he said “It sounds like you’re marching,” and yes I was. With 40 k ahead I was in go mode. That comment slowed me down. What a shame it would be to spend this beautiful part of the trail marching. I decided instead to stop and smell all the roses, I will never pass this way again.
Today’s walk is just absolutely stunning, through one park after another. There are waterfalls here, people picnicking with their families there, horses tied to the trees. There was a festival and street market in Campagnano di Roma. I explored the ancient church then bought something unrecognizable from the street market.
Things turned a bit after this. Each village I walked through was closed, I guess for the holiday. If there happened to be an open cafe, it was full of drunk men. Where I usually would find counters full of foccacia there were empty shelves. Signs of the end of a hearty, party long weekend. I ran out of water. I was hungry. I was tired. And I hit a detour that said it would add an additional 1.8 k that felt more like 10.
And then I found the dog. A dog with a long leash, blocking my path. Is he vicious? For the first time I used my emergency whistle to scare him away, but the poor guy just looked at me with sorrow in his eyes. I realized he was lost. Cautiously I approached – maybe he has a telephone number on his collar, like we do in Canada. No such luck. How I could I make that call anyway? And then there were two of us, trudging listlessly forward. Eventually we reached a country road, and then a car. I waved it down, hoping for an English speaker but better than that, it was this dogs owner frantically searching for him. After a robust reunion, the woman offered me a ride. I still can’t believe I declined.
I am staying tonight in Casa Nostra Signora, a religious guesthouse with very small but private rooms complete with private bathroom. It is exactly what I need. I picked up a take out burger and fries, the end of an eventful, long but really quite wonderful day.
There are rumours that the last walk to Rome is not good, that maybe I should take a bus but Bernard has gone ahead and sent me a message. “It is good, walk it”. Gina is here tonight, with family. She is going to take a bus.
Rome tomorrow and yes, I will walk.
