My new best friend -- Biscotta. She runs the Agriturismo.
Today was my favorite day -- at least scenery-wise, and the views were spectacular.
My guidebook warned that this was a hard day, and I think they underestimated it. There didn't seem to be any flat spots until the very end. It was like walking into a vee, the second you weren't going steep uphill then you were going steep downhill. And the ups were really steep. But so beautiful that it was worth every step. I sounded like a steam engine going up -- a creaky old one.
I had to cross this little fast-flowing stream, but I made it without falling in.
The trail was varied today, from country roads to narrow, overgrown paths.
The sign, " Santuario di S. Vittoria" points out one of the highlights of today's hike. Unfortunately, it was closed, and I couldn't even go on the grounds. Supposedly, inside the church is a small well that has healing properties. It is probably a good thing it was closed. I wouldn't have known which part of my body needed the most water, and I might have just jumped in.
The 4th Century Chiesa di San Vittore contains the bones of the martyr Vittore. According to Dolomiti.it, "Some experts thinks that Vittore was a Roman legionary from Cilices, and had been martyred in Syria, or in Egypt, by order of a captain called Sebastian, during the persecution by Marcus Aurelius Antoninus, at the end of the II century A.D. On the other hand, according to the tradition, Corona was the young wife of one of Vittore's companions. She would have encouraged the martyr to resist the pains of martyrdom. After she declared herself a Christian, she was condemned to martyrdom too and was quartered after she was hanged to two palm trees bent down and then loosened." Jeez and we worry about the silliest things when it comes to religion. Thank heavens every day for the right to worship as we see fit without fear of being drawn and quartered.
The steep trail looked like it went to the sky and felt even longer as I struggled to make it to the top.
At just about the halfway point, in Poggio Moiano -- A BAR! Whoohoo! I had a nice little break while I sat outside, and people watched.
Poggio Moiano was built on a steep uphill, or I should say steep up-mountain. There was no "hill" in sight. A beautiful old town
He has his tongue sticking out with total catitude.
These winding steps went almost straight down.
When I got to the top of this mountain, there was a cooling breeze. It wasn't hot today, but I was soaking wet from exertion. It smelled so fresh and felt so good that I wanted to savor it -- put the experience in a bottle and take it home to share. There is nothing I like more than to hear the wind rustling through the trees.
I made a wrong turn here that cost me a couple of miles and upped my total to 16.2. Had my head in the clouds and missed a marker.
But, I would have missed this if I had seen the marker. Five big dogs with enormous teeth were working this large herd of sheep who balked at walking past scary me. The lead dog immediately came to the front to see what the hold-up was. I don't want any part of getting in the way of a working dog.
You can see them dodging where I was standing. The dogs eyed me suspiciously, but I turned my back to them and snuggled up to the fence as close as I could, and the herd of probably one hundred plus sheep finally passed me. There was no shepherd in sight. Those working dogs are impressive.
I think this is Ponticcelli in the distance.
I called this the "divorce house." There is a large crack running down the middle, "her half," and then to the left is another large crack, the middle section, the kid's house, and at the far left is a corner section that would be his half. Just kidding, guys.
I took photo after photo of mountain views in every direction. If I printed all the beautiful pictures for today, you would be asleep long before I finished.
As I was coming into Ponticelli, population 515, I saw this billboard advertising patio homes. There would be some advantages to having a new residence instead of a thousand-year-old one. Our house is just over a hundred years old and it can be a money pit. Imagine a thousand.
My destination! I had a friendly chat with an Asian-Italian girl, (Italian by birth.) She spoke English and translated for the bartender, who was nice enough to call my Agriturismo for transport. Tomorrow, he will bring me back here to this exact spot to continue my pilgrimage.
I am in love with the olive oil here and have arranged to buy some from the rather taciturn farmer who owns/runs the Agriturismo. This is ham on toast with his olive oil and it is a taste of heaven.
My primi course was homemade thick spaghetti noodles with tomato sauce, pecorino romano, and pork cheek. For my family, think fried hog jowl in one-inch pieces. For most all the rest of y'all think crisp thick-sliced bacon. It was exquisite. I ate every bite. It was accompanied by the chicory greens with enough chili pepper to give it a little heat. Chicory is really growing on me but it takes a chef or at least a good home cook to transform greens into something remarkable. And these were all that. I declined a primi course because I didn't want to have to hide it in a baggie. Italians take their food seriously and he would have assumed I didn't like it when in truth I was just stuffed.
So being full as a tick, I bid you good night until tomorrow. See you on the trail!
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