Tag Archives: Countryside

Day 6 – Monteriggioni to Siena – Long but not too hard

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Saturday 17 May 2025 – We were up not with the lark but with the blackbird, which started singing shortly before our alarm was due to go off at 05:30. We took a prompt breakfast in order to get out quickly, since the official distance of 20km made this one of the longer days since we started out from Altopascio. (I’ve noted before that I feel this route has been tougher than the Camino Francés that we did 18 months ago. Actually, on the Camino, we typically covered longer distances then; but the Via (so far) has been much more hilly, which has made the days tougher.)

The hotel is definitely posh. You can tell because it actually offered hot food at breakfast, so I was able to construct a passable imitation of a bacon butty to go with my cup of Twining’s finest Earl Grey.

Then it was time to head off across the fields to rejoin the Via. The lowering mass of Monteriggioni squats atop a hill; once we got to the foot of the hill we started up really quite a steep path.

At its steepest, just before the gate into the fortress,

I measured the slope as 14.5°

which a short conversation with ChatGPT established is actually slightly steeper than 1 in 4. Bloody steep, in short. Although we had only covered around 4km by the time we passed through the gate, we felt we’d earned a coffee stop. While Jane and Caroline relaxed, I popped over the road and whizzed the drone up for a quick photo of the whole place.

You can see how tiny it is.

After our coffee, we bade farewell to Monteriggioni

and moved on

working our way steadily towards our goal – Siena, the end of this section of the Via. The S-cape app described today’s walk as short, easy and unencumbered by any “road houses”, i.e. coffee stops. It was wrong on two of the three counts: our total distance for the day was 24.5km (only Day 1 was longer) and there were actually a couple of rest stops along the way, one of which was delightful (see later).

As before, the going was varied – some tarmac, some dirt road and some tracks.

There were stretches where balletic leaps across muddy patches were required, or where the going underfoot was pretty rocky.

Muddiness and rocks were, however, no barrier for some of the lunatic fringe who came past us.

The Powers That Be clearly wanted to make sure that we stayed on track;

there are no fewer than five waymarks in this picture.

We passed a reference to the Camino de Santiago

a helpful household’s support for passing pilgrims

Just a tap through the wall, and a notice that the water is OK for drinking

and some nice roadside shrines.

For much of the route, the countryside, while pleasant and rural, was otherwise unremarkable

though there were patches where poppies had taken over; at one point they almost seemed to form a river.

We took a rest in order to eat our hotel-provided sandwiches on a convenient bench overlooking a monument

which, its info board told us, was erected after the area, which had originally been a swamp, had been drained; the monument was a tribute to man’s ability to shape nature. The swamp might have been cleared, but the mosquitoes hadn’t noticed.

One falls to meditating on the long stretches of road when not much else is happening. I saw this sign

which had flashing lights and warned that there were pedestrians in the road, and wondered how the hell did they know we were there?

We passed another sign, this one telling us that there was a “punta ristoro” in a couple of kilometres, which, given the S-cape info, was unexpected. Between us and it were a couple of castles:

Castello della Chiocciola, the origins of which are possibly from the 14th century, but which certainly was mentioned in despatches in 1555 when it played a part in the battle which ended in the fall of Siena; and Castello di Villa, a medieval building which was apparently historically important for pilgrims on the Via Francigena. This takes its name from (or possibly gives it to) the local area, which has a few houses which look to have been recently spiffed up, a sort of village green to give you an idea of its personality

and – eventually – the “punto ristoro”, which describes itself as a punto sosta – a place of sustenance.

“Extension” round the back

It’s a delightful place, offering all kinds of goodies – various foods including cakes, pastries, eggs and fruit – coffee or tea, and a place to sit and rest. No money is demanded; the place runs off donations, and has a very genial atmosphere.  There are many nice touches

and a lovely vegetable garden round the back.

Informal as it seemed, it did appear that the place also operated as a B&B; all slightly eccentric and utterly charming. Of course we took a break there.

Slightly further along, there was an Agriturismo place, Casalino 18, offering lunch-time wine-tasting, sandwiches and juices – another rest stop that had escaped the notice of S-cape.

Shortly after that, we apparently reached SIena!

Ah. No. Bugger. Still a few kilometres to go. We ploughed on. At least we only had a few kilometres to go; other destinations were much further away.

The pleasantly unvarying rural scenery gave way to a vista worth a photo

and… had we really reached Siena?

Sadly, not quite – still a couple of kilometres to go. That lovely view was basically the hill we then had to climb to get to the city proper.  But we did get there, walking through increasingly urban surroundings until we reached a very obvious entry point to the historic city.

This is the gate through which pilgrims traditionally enter the city. We were a bit tired and frazzled by this stage, so couldn’t quite be arsed to do this; but we did go through another walled archway

which, eagle-eyed readers will notice, sports the Medici coat of arms, and into the old city proper.

and eventually, after what seemed like an eternity, to our hotel,

the very elegant and slightly eccentric Hotel Chiusarelli. It’s a nice place, and we were courteously welcomed, but the way they’ve set the rooms out is odd, to say the least. Our room was no. 24, which was on the top floor (up 50 steps!). Caroline’s, no.35, was along a corridor and down some stairs. Our bags had arrived and (praise be!) been put in our rooms, and Lorenzo and Barbara on reception made sure that we could find our way through their mini labyrinth to our rooms.

Although the walk hadn’t been as arduous as those on some of the other days, we were still in need of a rest, and so it was a couple of hours later that we ventured out for a look at Siena – my first, as I’ve never been here before. We had hoped to get into the cathedral, the Duomo, but, sadly, had left it too late. By telling us that its closing time was 7pm, Google had traduced us – it closed at 5.30, so we had to make do with seeing it in its magnificant, city-dominating, setting

before taking a look at the baptistry

and the facade.

Opposite the Duomo is the church of Santa Maria della Scala, which has a breathtaking interior, with a stunning fresco behind the altar.

We also visited the main square of the city, the Campo di Siena

before heading back to the hotel for an evening meal in their restaurant. The food was excellent, but we discovered another eccentricity, in that they don’t serve spirits, so a G&T with the meal was not an option. However, it was a lovely meal and a chance for final conversation with Caroline before we bade her farewell; she has to travel home tomorrow, and even a friendship as deep as ours doesn’t extend to getting up at sparrow fart simply to say goodbye at 6.30am. (Stop Press: we have learned that she made it home in good order.)

We now have two whole days at leisure in Siena before we head off on the next segment of the Via. Our time includes a guided tour and we hope to get inside the Duomo, so, with good luck and a following tide I should be able to bring you more information about and photos of this splendid city. Stay tuned!

 

 

 

 

 

Camino Finisterre Day 9: Muxía to Quintáns – Normal service resumed

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Friday `10 May 2024 – So, the burning question was: would I feel I could cope with a 10km walk?

Actually, I did.

Our hotel room was very warm, so we didn’t have a particularly comfortable night. Despite that, however, the auguries were good that I was recovering from my digestive meltdown: I was hungry! Breakfast was at 8am, also the time we like to make our bags available for collection, and so we headed down for a leisurely, and in my case, quite sizeable breakfast.

The lack of a way to cool the room was the only significant detraction from my view that this has been the best hotel so far, particularly for being well-organised. The breakfast room was no exception, nicely laid out in a way that allowed for a decent buffet whilst still feeling spacious for those at the tables.

A couple of noteworthy points: firstly, there is a rather shocking picture on the far wall.

It depicts the Sanctuary of the Virgin of the Boat, the one at the headland that we saw yesterday, in the 2013 lightning-strike fire that destroyed it.  It’s been rebuilt remarkably well, as we saw yesterday.

Secondly, the background music took a trend that we’d previously noted to an extreme.  The trend is to play cover versions of well-known pop songs, usually in a totally inappropriate style, often sung in English by someone who clearly doesn’t understand the words. We’ve heard a bossa nova version of Depeche Mode’s Personal Jesus, for example. But the hotel absolutely took the biscuit today by playing a smooth, salon-jazz version of Pink Floyd’s Time. It was so incongruous that it took me ages to work out why I vaguely recognised the words but couldn’t place the piece.

For walking, the forecast was great – sunny and about 19°C – so I decided to undertake the walk and we thought that we could have a lesisurely departure, since the distance was short, there was little point in arriving early and we wouldn’t have to worry about overheating.  So I used the time before our departure to sort out my walking poles, since the profile of the day’s walk was somewhat up-and-down.

It’s not too extreme – the ascents are only 100m or so – but the slope is 1 in 10, I was recovering and out of practice at hills; so sticks were the order of the day, for me at least.  I checked mine over to make sure that the little plastic pots, the “ferrules”, that cover the spikes at the bottom of the poles, were still in place.  I’d once carelessly lost one on some ascent or other, and Jane (who, of course, had organised some spares) was grudging in her willingness to hand out replacements.  So I took care today to ensure that I wouldn’t upset the Ferrule Godmother. [One?? Hah! Several!! – Ed]

And so we set off.  It was almost immediately clear that the extra layers we’d donned were going to be unnecessary; there was a cool breeze, but hot sunshine as we bade goodbye to Muxía

and started the first climb.

It led past the Capela de San Roque de Moraime

which didn’t look interesting enough to detain us, and on, through some interesting-looking pines

and past a Fonte which looked like it was also once a lavadoiro,

into a village, Moraime, where we’d notionally planned to have our first coffee stop.  Sadly, La Taberna was Spanish Open, so we didn’t get our coffee. But we did get a chance to look around the monastery there,

which is from the 12th Century and which is a very fine place to pop into. It has an impressive entrance portico

and a splendid interior.

A very significant item of interest there is the frieze which runs all the way along the north wall and which is in remarkably good nick.  Here is a stitch of three photos covering it; it’s not perfect but I hope it gives you an idea.

and here is the official explanation – it represents the seven deadly sins,

from left to right: pride, greed, anger, lust (my personal favourite, ever since Raquel Welch), gluttony, envy and sloth, with death awaiting them on the right.

Our next port of call was Os Muiños, which thinks enough of itself to have erected a Town Name

and which is appealing enough

but, most importantly, had a café which was Open Open, and which served us coffee, juice and beer, all of which were very welcome.

We carried on, along a path with some nice views

which led into woodland, through which we could have seen a beach if it weren’t for the trees in the way.

At about the point where we could see clear across the bay to Camariñas,

and I was busy taking photos of a nice flower arrangement,

we noticed a line of something in the water.

It seemed to stretch a long way,

almost across to where we could just make out the Muxía lighthouse, and we wondered if it was some kind of fish farming frame.  Nothing shows on the satellite picture of Google Earth, but on the other hand the town from which it stretches, Merexo, is home to Stolt Sea Farm, an industrial-scale purveyor of turbot.  Maybe the two are connected?

The countryside around there is very attractive, particularly on a sunny day

and, as we passed the scene above, we wondered if we could catch sight of the bonkersly-large horreo de San Martin that we’d seen on our day trip last Autumn. In the distance, we could see something that might be it.

There.

Yes, that thing.

It’s clearly a big horreo, but we couldn’t see it clearly enough to count the legs. Spoiler alert: it wasn’t the one we were looking for, but read on anyway.

The village of San Martiño is home to a substantial church, the Iglesia de San Martiño de Ozón.

As with many of the churches we’ve seen, it has a cemetery around it, and I went to have a look whilst Jane panted quietly in the shade for a bit.

It’s an impressive sight, with quite a contrast between the older memorial markers,

which are decoratively weathered, and the more modern ones

which are identical, but look less interesting because they haven’t weathered at all.

The rest of San Martiño has some very attractive little corners

and the utterly huge 16th-century horreo de San Martiño de Ozon. I posted a photo or two of it last Autumn, but it’s impressive enough to be worth showing again.

It is one of the largest in Galicia, running to 27m in length and having no fewer than 22 pairs of legs. Its large size is because it belonged to the clergy, which imposed a tithe of the crops of the farmers of the parish -10% of the total harvest – and thus they needed a large place to store it all. Apparently, it now “stores” volunteers working in the community. It’s a great photographic subject.

We were by this stage quite close to our destination, the village of Quintáns. The final surprise the walk had for us was this snack vending machine, seemingly in the middle of nowhere.

I think it’s linked to a nearby albergue. Anyway, this brought us to our pension for the night,

the Plaza, which, despite our arriving at about 2pm, wasn’t going to offer food until 8pm.  Still, it has a bar, and where there’s a bar there’s gin and maybe some crisps or something. The view from our room is rather nice

and we’re hoping for a comfortable night before heading on tomorrow. The forecast is for cooler, cloudier weather, but no rain; hopefully an ideal day for covering the 13 or so kilometres to Dumbria, our next port of call.

 

Camino Finisterre, Day 8: Lires to Muxía – Mainly Jane Again In Spain

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Thursday 9 May 2024 – I was feeling better than yesterday, but discretion, valour, you know?  So once again we formulated a plan whereby Jane would do the hard yards on foot while I would do the easy kilometres in a taxi.  The weather prospects for the day

seemed similar to yesterday’s, which made a prompt start desirable (for her, at any rate), and so she departed at about 8.30am, leaving me to skulk first in my room and then in the hotel bar, which, for some reason, features a counterintuitively massive meat fridge.

I skulked until it was time to catch a taxi (and, it must be said, see what fallout there might be from eating moderately for breakfast, something of a novelty for the last days. Spoiler alert: no fallout; phew!). As yesterday, I have nothing to add about the journey, so here’s Jane….

It was much cooler and lightly overcast when I started out, leaving Lires and heading off on woodland and farmland paths of varyingly good going…

There were some striking sights along the way

and much evidence of spring planting and preparation.

I walked for a while behind this interesting variation on a horse-drawn carriage…

I wondered if the farmer was taking her to be shod, as she didn’t appear to have shoes and he was positioning the tractor very carefully as he drove so that she could walk where possible on the grassy verge, and avoid areas of broken road surface. [Not shoddy treatment, then – Ed (temporary)]

The way was unremarkable in many ways, although there were some great photo opportunities…

until the steepish bit up to the high point of the walk on Monte Lourido.

What goes up must come down, and the views opened up all around as the way descended (with what appeared to be a forest fire in the distance).

There were abrupt changes in the quality of the surface –

not so much of a problem for me on foot, but a bit of a sharp intake of breath for these Italian bicigrinos!

At a spring on the outskirts of Muxía this chap was doing his keep fit exercises, before filling his water bottle and passing me on his way back into town.

The descent into the town skirts the beautiful Praia de Lourido, with the less then beautiful (IMHO) Costa da Morte Parador on the slopes above.

The town is not particularly noteworthy, although there are some interesting murals

and the harbour area is quite picturesque.

I reached our hotel before Steve wafted in, so was able to check in and await his arrival.

Ah – here he is now!

The taxi ride passed without incident, except the one which happened before it started.  At 1235, I asked the nice lady behind reception at the hotel to request a taxi to take me to Muxía, and she told me it would be there in 20 minutes.  Accordingly, at 1255, I was sitting outside the hotel, ready to depart, and a taxi rolled up.  He looked grumpy when I approached and said, in my best Englishman-abroad-attempt-at-communicating-with-the-locals, “Muxía?”  I was disconcerted when he simply replied “no” and walked off into the hotel.  I thought at first he was going to, as it were, pick me up inside the hotel, but actually he’d just rocked up for a coffee. I sat back down, somewhat disconsolately, wondering if there’d been a cock-up, when another taxi turned up, and it turned out to be mine. The journey proceeded at Spanish taxi pace, i.e. slightly faster than is (a) legal or (b) comfortable.

Once we were both safely ensconced at the Hotel a de loló, we could relax for a while before going out for lunch.  For a change, there was no worry about finding a meal, as María, on the front desk, had pointed us at a restaurant, A Marina, whose kitchen was open all day.  The room was one of those excellent, well-organised hotel rooms which are not expansive, but which are beautifully designed to have all that’s reasonably needed, all reasonably within reach.  That included a kettle! We were thus able to treat ourselves to a Nice Cup Of Tea. When we were in Finisterre, Jane had spotted some local Earl Grey,

so, in order to conserve our precious stocks of Twining’s finest, we tested out this “precious black tea” and found it to be satisfactorily restorative, giving us the energy to go to lunch. Then we went for a walk. Obviously. (It’s so nice to be able to type that, as today is the first day I’ve felt capable of walking with any degree of pleasure, dignity or pace since Monday.)

Lunch was also an opportunity to reintroduce my digestive system to proper food (OK, and gin), in an experiment which – so far, writing some hours later – seems to have been a success, or at least not a noisome failure.  Before we embarked on the walk, we picked up our Compostelae Muxiannae, our certificates for completing what, in our case, is Phase II of III.  And I suppose it’s somewhat cheating for me to claim a Compostela, since I didn’t actually walk the whole way.  So sue me.

Our objective for the walk was to go to the “0 km” post which marks the Muxía end of the Camino, by the sanctuary dedicated to the virgin.  As with Finisterre, we visited last Autumn, but by bus.  The site is quite impressive, as you’ll have noticed from the video I shot last year.

Last year we had approached the site from the coach park, which, obvs, is designed to show the whole area to its best advantage, and I was very taken with the charisma of the place, and left with the impression that it was somehow on a remote promontory.  This year, though, we just walked 10 minutes up the road from the town, and discovered that it isn’t.

You just walk up the road and there you are.  It’s still a lovely site, though.

On the way there we passed the Igrexa de Santa María de Muxía, which is the site of a yearly pilgrimage every September,

and, rather less spiritually, drying rails for conger eels,

which are arranged in a square, rather than the conger line I’d expect.

We spent a few minutes at the site reacquainting ourselves with its Camino-related aspects, but particularly, of course, the “0 km” marker, to show we’d completed this stage.

There are other decent views across the site, too,

including the “sail rock”, which was part of the stone boat supposedly sailed there by the virgin Mary to reassure St. James that his work was successfully completed.  The Camino is full of symbolics like this.

We walked back into town round the other side of the headland, past dry stone walling which we at first thought might have been the remains of ancient habitations

but, it soon turned out, were simply allotments.

One final conger eel rack

and we were back at the hotel, getting ourselves outside more of Sir Winston’s finest.

The morrow?  Too soon to be certain, but the omens are favourable; tonight will be the acid test, possibly in a literal manner, as to whether my digestion really was ready for that meal.  If it turns out that it was, I think I might be ready to rejoin Jane on the road as we walk the 10km or so to Quintáns. If she’ll have me, that is. It’s a short walk and, one hopes, not too arduous. The current forecast for the weather is (whisper it) good, with cooler temperatures but no rain. So, stay tuned and see how the day unfolds, OK?