Julie’s painful knee is beginning to present us with a problem. Simply pressing on and ignoring it is not a viable option. It has become clear that some good rest is what is needed. After exploring various options we decided that the best thing would be for her to have a break from walking for the next few days by taking trains and buses to each day’s destination while Tom continues on foot on his own. With the planned rest day in Sutri, that would give a total of three days rest, leaving just three days to get to Rome. Public transport links along our remaining route are good so if it isn’t sufficiently recovered that option remains. As our good friend Christina pointed out, pilgrims of old wouldn’t have shunned a ride in an ox cart in such circumstances, if it was on offer.
From our lodgings it was a short walk up the hill for both of us to the duomo. On the way we passed cherry trees in full bloom in the Piazza del Gesu. “Bella” said the lady cleaning the cafe tables after Tom pointed at them. “Bellissima” he replied.
Further up the hill we passed a series of large Inca like stone blocks set in the base of a wall. From an adjacent notice we gathered that they are the remains of the wall of the original town built on the hilltop by the Etruscans in pre-Roman times.
We’ve seen that many beautiful cathedrals on this walk that it’s easy to get be rather blasé about them. What is special about this one however is the Siena-like campanile built of white marble and black serpentinite.
Inside, the dumo is remarkably plain. The scars of May 1944 when it was badly damaged are clear to see, with chunks of stone missing from the colonnades and the fractured mosaic floor.
Tom felt a slightly emotional as we parted at the door of the duomo: Julie to go and find her train and he to set off on foot to Vetralla. Silly really, but we’ve walked all this way together and now he was to be on his own, if only for the day.
Descending from the duomo down the north side of the hill was initially quite steep demonstrating just why the Etruscans had chosen this place for their fortified settlement.
The current Via Francigena route from Viterbo to Vetralla is temporarily closed for maintenance and so our app proposed an alternative further to the east. I was initially a bit concerned that route finding might not be so easy but in the event it was well signposted suggesting that it has been an alternative for some time. Once across the busy ring road and past some rather shabby post-industrial buildings the road entered a curious narrow gorge cut vertically into the volcanic rock at times as much as ten or fifteen metres deep. This wound its way from left to right for several kilometres. Marks on the walls clearly indicated that it had been cut using implements, rather than by any natural process. I wondered by whom and why? Was this a relic of the last war? Perhaps it had been cut to provide some sort of safe transport or escape route? I later learned that I was correct about its purpose, but hopelessly out on the time of its construction. This was an Etruscan road dating from around 500BC! It was cut into the volcanic rock in order that armies moving along it couldn’t be seen and presumably the winding profile served a similar defensive purpose.
After several kilometres the road emerged from the cutting into rolling farmland. At one point a field of oilseed rape in full bloom came into view.
The road became a gravel track as fields of grass gave way to olive groves. I stopped for a rest and some water, sitting on a convenient bank. Soon I heard voices and Elizabeth the Italian living in Lausanne who we’d first met in Acquapendente appeared. She was with a friend, Giuseppe, who lives in Viterbo and was walking with her for the morning. I asked him about the cutting earlier on and it was he who explained that it was built by the Etruscans. We chatted a bit before they went on their way. I decided to wait a bit so as not to walk on top of them. Not long after, as I approached a crossing under the SS2 motorway Guiseppe appeared again walking back towards Viterbo. He explained that he had to return to his wife. I may have misunderstood, but it sounded like she is not well. Interestingly he was clutching a bunch of wild asparagus he’d picked along the way. He reiterated his advice for Julie about buses along our route to Rome in case she needs them. What a kind and thoughtful man!
Being on my own I was able to walk at my own pace without the frequent stops necessary to rest Julie’s knee. This was some recompense for walking alone, and I felt a certain spring in my step. Spring, of course was all around me. A little while later I came across sweet peas in full bloom intertwined with other wild vegetation. Were they really wild, or just feral?
On the east side of the motorway was a large horticultural enterprise growing cauliflowers and cabbages under irrigation. It was interesting to see that having been recently cut, the cauliflower plants were being turned back in using a large implement looking like a cross between a disc and a plough. Presumably the fertile volcanic soils here are ideal for this sort of farming.
Shortly after, the joy of spring was pushed aside by the sight of fly-tipping on an almost industrial scale. Such a beautiful country, but such a wonderful landscape spoilt by this! A short while later I came upon Elizabeth taking a rest. We talked about the rubbish and the litter issue along the way. She talked about an attitude in Italy which has not changed with the rest of the world: an attitude which just doesn’t appreciate or cherish the environment around them. She put it down to education. Having said all of that, I think we have almost as big a problem in the UK.
For some time the route followed alongside the motorway with its ever present noise. Eventually we ducked down underneath it into a landscape of olive groves. I stopped in one, sitting on a rock and called Martin, secretary of the WFA about the sudden recent death of my successor as chairman. Somewhat ironically he was sitting in the car park of Salisbury Hospital for which we are raising funds. It was good to talk. He’s a thoroughly good egg.
An hour later I found another spot to stop for an orange amongst olive trees and a wonderful display of dandelions in flower. By this stage I was about 2/3rds of the way to Vetralla so I called Julie who was on her way from the station into town.
More up and down through olive groves, though none too extreme, brought me eventually to the outskirts of Vertralla. At La Panchina del Pellergrino Barbara I stopped to stamp my credential. Interesting, the reference to Barbara, who is, of course the patron saint of miners, a soul-mate, you might say.
As I was stamping my credential, the English couple from Rye arrived and we spent the next half hour chatting. I was somewhat flattered when he said we’d inspired them to think about doing a long distance walk like this. I hope they do. We’ve got so much out of it.
Vetralla was a short distance off and Julie was already ensconced in our overnight lodgings when I arrived. We enjoyed a cup of tea in the afternoon sunshine in the garden before a good hot shower and the usual necessities.