This Sucks, and I Knowingly Signed Up For It?

Beautiful morning sunrise.

Via Francigena #16 of 20

San Miniato to Gambassi Terme

We’re on a long single-lane stretch with double-lane drivers and serious assholes. I have felt safer on highways than on this back country road. But the vistas are beautiful.

The road blessedly turns off onto a gravel path, which turns into insane flies, which turns into no food. A jet passes high overhead. It looks real good right now.

A small town we had anticipated having services turned out to be not. If it weren’t for the constant “potable water” in fountains along the way we’d be in trouble. We’d already traveled 12kms and had another 10 before a bar was available, and it’s again in the low 90’s

I started thinking I’m ready for a day off, but we just had two in a row. The Rest & All You Can Train Day #3, summarized below, was right after my birthday and involved seven trains in over 11 hours to get us from Aosta to Lucca.

Just in case we needed the following “lesson,” which I can assure you we did not, we got a reminder that even though every other train has a conductor who calls “all aboard” or blows a whistle, door bells jingle, a voice comes over a speaker, or somehow passengers sitting at the station are given a heads up the train is leaving, this is a different day and a different station, and on the train from Alessandria to Genova, they don’t.

As we were stuffing change into a machine for some munchies mere inches from the train, the doors suddenly closed and off it went. We were about 2 euros late.

Struggles are just that. Struggles. But where you have an issue is if your attitude goes. Then you have a problem

With the train, the nice ladies in the ticket office worked about half an hour to get us to Lucca. All it cost us was two hours. Struggle yes, problem no.

The tandem rashes from the day before that are now accompanied by mosquito bites? Put on prophylactic, long technical pants; it’s the best way to not look at something that goes away on its own. No problem.

But now, after frying in the Italian sun despite my portable shade called an umbrella, and having no food in the foreseeable future, I have a problem. My sense of humor has left me for some other host:

THIS SUCKS AND I KNOWINGLY SIGNED UP FOR IT?

I can find no mental model, no strategy for comfort, other than knowing that time does indeed pass. 3 hours slowly becomes 2 hours, becomes 1 hour, until slowly but surely, we eventually arrive at a convenience store.

It is a mere 2km from our final destination. That means we trekked 22km without services.

I walked over to the beverage case, and there I see my sense of humor inside, hanging out looking all cool and refreshing. I grab her, sit at a table and start drinking.

See below for photos with commentary.

©Theresa Elliott, All Rights Reserved

Like we needed a visual confirmation, I have never seen a first aid kit on a Camino route before. Didn’t bode well for this stretch and the band-aids aren’t nearly big enough.

Vast landscapes of endless beauty. But who the hell really cares when you are much further down the rung of Maslow’s hierarchy of needs?

Looks really cool, unless this bike is a harbinger of the ghost town you were hoping to get food, or even calories, at.

Endless beauty only takes you so far . . .

. . . doesn’t replace a Danish . . .

. . . or an orange juice . . .

. . . or even frickin’ focaccia!

Bark on a pine tree. Looks like a Rocky Road Bar.

Our B&B for the night, building on the far right.

Delicious food. Chicken Liver Pate Bruschetta, Tomato Bruschetta, Capreise Tomato salad with Buffalo Mozzarella that was durn close to Burata, omg. Negroni.

Fruity, cheesy salad.