Tag Archives: History

Putna II – still damp, but not dreary

Thursday 25 September 2025 – Once again, the weather was damp, and colder than yesterday, with temperatures in single figures during a rainy morning. Accordingly, we dedicated the morning to full-time sloth, only emerging into the afternoon when things looked a little less bleak, when we went for a walk. Obviously.

Our objective was another monastery in the vicinity, called Sihăstria Monastery. The attentive among you will have noticed a similarity in name with the hermitage we visited yesterday, Chilia Daniil Sihastrul. All will become clear in good time.

Getting to this monastery involved a walk of some 5km.  Our walk took us past MishuCoffee where we again indulged ourselves in a couple of flat whites before heading out of town on a road that took us past the tradesmen’s entrance to the Putna monastery that we’d marvelled at yesterday.

We passed another selection of the attractive cottages one finds here

as we broadly followed the Putna river upstream. We passed a building that in jest I suggested was the local hydro power station and when we got close,

lo and behold, that’s what it was. The Putna river is not, it must be said, in full spate, but there is evidence, in the form of storm drains, that there are times when it’s a powerful flow.

After about 4km, we came to a building which I was sure was the monastery we sought.

I mean, it looks pretty monastic, dontcha think? Google maps swore blind that we had another kilometre to go and, when we drew closer and looked at the other major building on the site,

it became clear that this was a building site, not a monastery. Quite what they’re building we don’t know – there were no signs on view and Google maps remains tight-lipped on the subject. So we walked on, along the road which was now quite muddy in places from all the lorries and other heavy vehicles rumbling along it. We passed a shrine

and then, in the distance, could see our real objective.

See what I mean about the limited flow of the Putna river?

As well as the central monastery building, there were several others to be seen (including a cafe, which came in handy),

including a very cute little churchlet, reminiscent of the stave churches we saw recently in Norway. Initially, I thought it was a modern construction in traditional style, but it is probably older than that – see below.

It was locked, but I managed to get photo of a bit of the interior.

The main buildings of interest on the site, though, were the monastery, of course,

and a neighbouring stone church,

which, like so many places here, had a guard cat on duty.

The stone church is small, but, as is frequently the case in these parts, has a very ornate interior.

Walls and ceilings are covered in devotional images.

supplemented with carved wooden panels.

Aurochs’ Heads, with sun, rose (lower left) and moon, which appear on the Moldavian coat of arms.

There are also beautiful decorative details on the outer walls, including niches with representations of Romanian saints.

Obviously, our main interest was the monastery itself, and, as with the Putna monastery, front porch and narthex

suggested that the interior would be quite something.

I was quite surprised at how light the monastery was inside – others we’d been in had been really gloomy. But this building had windows and, on researching it, this shows that it’s a modern building. A bit of history and terminology follows….

The main building is called the Sihăstria Monastery. “Sihăstria” means “hermitage”, so it’s the Hermitage Monastery. Yesterday’s hermitage was called  Chilia Daniil Sihastrul, which I said was Daniil Silhastru’s hermitage. Actually, Daniil Sihastrul means “Danny the hermit” so a better translation would have been “The cell of Danny the hermit”. I hope that clears up that bit of terminology.

The reason for the Sihăstria Monastery name is because the building is on the site of what was a hermitage in the mid-15th century, with several cells occupied by hermits who wanted even more silence than a monastic life afforded, and a small wooden church. The site’s popularity led to the building of the stone church in 1758 (with the wooden church being moved to the “apple orchard” – this could well be the one pictured further above). The timing was unfortunate as the site fell into disrepair under Austro-Hungarian rule (1775 onwards); the church was closed and the site was deserted for some 200 years. In the 1990s, the hegumen of the Putna monastery began to restore the area and found the tombstones of the area’s original founding fathers, and so restored, redecorated and reconsecrated the stone church. This attracted more monks and the church became too small. So, in the early 2000s, the monastery building we see today was erected. That’s why it’s so light inside – it was built in the Windows era. Thank you. Thank you for reading my joke.

The stone church is reportedly built of “river stone”, presumably the stone which created the remarkable formations we saw by the river on our walk.

It’s clear that the area is being developed. As well as the not-really-a-monastery building we saw earlier, there was a lot of heavy construction traffic along the road, and evidence of heavy work on the verges.

On the walk back to the hotel, we saw a couple of slices of northern Romanian life: a traditional horse and cart;

and a dock fight,

a combination of a dog and cock fight, as farmyard animals noisily settled a dispute.  We also passed an enigmatic building,

the “Panzer Club”, which looks like it was once a place of ill-repute but which now simply looks disused. We stopped by at the mini-mart in the village petrol station and, having drunk the hotel dry of tonic, bought some so that we could indulge ourselves in G&Ts with dinner.

We’ve had a pleasant time in Putna. We’ve been able to relax a bit but still managed to absorb a lot of the culture and history of the area as well as learning something of its Orthodox religious background. And this despite some less-than-optimal weather. However, the weather is once again on the turn. Although summer has, I fear gone for this year, at least the sun is forecast to make a reappearance tomorrow, which is good, since we have an 18km walk tomorrow, involving a rather abrupt and steep lump in the middle. Today we ambled about 12km, which was at least some practice at getting ourselves back into the hiking mindset. Let’s see if we can complete tomorrow’s walk without whinging, eh?

Intermission,  or maybe Pre-mission

Friday 29 August 2025 – The very final bit of this trip, Phase IIIb, starts soon and may see me absent from the connected world for a few days. Before we disappear off the radar, though, here are a few photos from our final day in Longyearbyen, for we didn’t just lounge about drinking coffee, oh dear me no. We went for a walk. Obviously.

Just down from the hotel is a statue of a miner entitled “Gruvebusen”, which is a local colloquialism for, would you believe, miner.

Given today’s much cloudier conditions, the light was much better suited to a photo of him than either of the previous days.

As one would expect from somewhere with a unique location and history, as well as somewhere Nordic, there are a couple of museums at the northern end of town,  so we walked down towards them, pausing at a viewpoint to, erm, look at the view. There was a cruise ship in which had a familiar outline.

It was reminiscent of the boat we’d visited the Kimberley coast in Australia, which was a cruise on Le Laperouse, a Ponant boat. Sure enough, on more detailed examination, this turned out also to be a Ponant boat, called Le Commandant Charcot. That resonated with our time at the other end of the world, actually;  we had come across the name of Jean Charcot as an explorer in Antarctica, and I hadn’t realised that he fossicked around up here, as well. 

The first of the two museums we visited was the North Pole Expedition Museum.

What I hadn’t realised before going in was the extent to which the race to reach the north pole was done in the air – airships and balloons were the vehicle of choice. People had claimed to have walked across the ice to the pole, for example Robert Peary in 1909, but these claims were disputed, and the first verified successful expedition was not until 1968. Amundsen successfully flew an airship over the pole in 1926 – after his successful expedition to the south pole. He was then involved in a rescue attempt for someone else’s failed expedition, during which he disappeared and neither he nor his remains were ever seen again. Not a lot of people know that.

The exhibition was full of information

but a bit low-key. Round the corner is the Svalbard Museum, which is very much bigger and better laid out, with huge amounts of information about the archipelago – history, geography, culture, politics, everything. A very impressive piece of work,

and giving me probably the only picture I’ll get of an arctic fox.

We walked back up through the town, and stopped off at the Radisson hotel to investigate a Small World story. An ex-colleague with whom I’d kept in contact via Facebook had noticed that we were in Svalbard and told me that her stepdaughter was working there, which is a pretty amazing coincidence. So we were able to meet Ruth, who was running the bar in the world’s most northerly pub.

She had come to Longyearbyen on a 9-month contract, and, like many, was still here two years later, really enjoying her life and also having success as an artist and illustrator (that’s her work on the blackboard, for example). It was a lovely encounter, and all the better for being entirely serendipitous.

All we had to do then was to buy some more tea, just in case Phase IIIb couldn’t provide, and make our way back to the hotel to await pickup to be taken to its start point. We passed the final statue that we would see in Longyearbyen, another nod to its mining history

before the taxi came to take us away.

These are final hasty notes before leaving Longyearbyen, and i don’t know when I’ll be able to update you on the progress of Phase IIIb. But bear with me for any errors in the above and I’ll write again when I can.

Day 14 – Bolsena to Montefiascone – dreaded but actually delightful

Tuesday 27 May 2025 – Having seen the elevation profile of today’s walk, I had been expecting a day of unremitting toil and had prepared myself accordingly, which means starting off with walking sticks in hand, ready to help me up all those hills.  Le Vigne was reasonably well up the first one, and we started off uphill but not too steeply, and bade farewell to Bolsena.

I noticed that there was a ferris wheel by the lakeside – just visible in the upper right of the picture above. Soon, we were on a woodland track

and largely in the shade, which was very pleasant; not that the day was hot per se, but it’s always nicer to be out of direct sunshine. We could look back at Bolsena and see that ferris wheel clearly now,

and the views over the lake in the morning light were lovely.

We passed a variety of different scenes as we went along.

A cluster of beehives

Nearly big enough to be called a ford

A longish section led through woodland on a clearly prepared trail, intended for use by mountain bikes as well as walkers,

until we left the Bolsena commune and entered that of Montefiascone,

which, an info board informed us, was the highest point on the Via Francigena. Despite this stark warning of uphill labour to come, the pleasant woodland trail continued

occasionally giving us lovely views over the surrounding countryside

until we came to a point where we could see the town of Montefiascone itself,

indisputably much higher than we were at the time. The trail turned into a strada bianca, but at least it offered occasional shade

and, somewhat after the halfway point, there being no formal coffee stop on the route, we found an informal shaded resting place to share some fruit.

As we neared the town, we passed several very posh-looking residences

many of which showed no more sign of occupancy than maybe a car being parked outside, and we wondered what the various stories were about these houses. Were they second homes? Farmers’ houses? Holiday lets?

We broke out from the woodland into the open for the final part of the walk, and were rewarded with more views

before the final pull up into the town.  Montefiascone is the Sarría of the Via Francigena – the point that’s 100km from the eventual destination and walking from which will earn you a certificate at the end, in this case in the Vatican at Rome. There’s even a formal mark,

outside a church, the Chiesa del Corpus Domini, which is a very substantial building

with some nice terracotta work on the front

and a lovely calm interior.

A side chapel

Embroidery above the chapel

The only tedious bit of the day came next, a longish pull up some steep streets to reach the town

Montefiascone is apparently world-famous for Est! Est!! Est!!! wine

and further tediously up towards the old city, past a rather unused-looking fairground setup (maybe for future use or from a past feast day?)

and another very chunky piece of religious masonry (more on this tomorrow).

We made it (via a side trip to get milk at a Coop) into the old city,

where the upness continued to sap my sense of humour as we toiled up this street.

Really, this last section was the only tedious and laborious part of what otherwise has probably been the most enjoyable walk of the Via so far.

The 100km USP of the place seems to drive a certain pilgrim-friendliness.

Our hotel was the Urbano V, where we arrived just before 2pm. Our room was available so we were able to take our bags up (in the lift! hurrah!!) before wandering out to find some lunch.  The receptionist thought that perhaps a restaurant called Dante would be open, and so it was. It describes itself as having Cuisina Tipica and we had a decent enough meal. It has a rather informal air about it, and they don’t seem to expect much in the way of passing tourist trade, with little concession made to those who can’t speak Italian; but the service was affable, and the food both good and copious.

After lunch, we needed to go for a walk. Obviously. We headed back to the hotel to make ourselves (relatively) respectable so that we could enter any passing churches, and set out to see the sights.

It’s a funny old place, Montefiascone. It has buckets of historic significance and charm, but it could really do with a good wash and brush up to show itself off well, like Bolsena does.

There are some really scruffy corners, which is sad to see, as it seems to tell of a city that is not inhabited by that many people.

We passed the orthodox parochial church and looked in.

Montefiascone, it is clear, has a great historical significance, having once been a Papal possession in the 12th and 13th centuries. The castle that sits above the town

was often the residence of popes and is named Rocca dei Pappi, and the city was a significant gathering point for pilgrims on the way to Rome. There is a pilgrim’s tower

from which, apparently, you get a 360° view of the surrounding countryside (there is no lift, and I wasn’t in the mood for steps up, which just goes to show what a poor pilgrim I really am). There is an enormous basilica, the cathedral of Santa Margherita, which has one of the largest domes in Europe.

The cathedral was built substantially in the 15th and 16th centuries. In 1670 it suffered a serious fire, with repairs taking a further decade. The interior was elaborately restored in 1893, and is

jaw-dropping.

On the way back from this wandering, we had a delightful Camino-style occasion. Outside the Caffè Centrale, on the piazza near our hotel, was sitting one of the two ladies we’d been able to help on the road to Acquapendente. We got into conversation, which led inevitably to gin and tonic. She is another Jane, who is also walking to Rome with her friend Yvette. Yvette was sadly absent, recovering from a bout of something dreadful, but it was really pleasant to talk to Jane. The occasion developed even further when another couple we’d been talking to at intervals over our journey, Susan and Andy, happened by, which led, equally inevitably, to more gin and tonics. This sort of encounter is relatively commonplace on the Camino de Santiago, when pilgrims in their thousands throng the route; we were delighted that we had encountered similar serendipity on this much less-travelled route.  It won’t happen again, as the others all depart tomorrow whilst we have a rest day; but it’s a pleasing memory to take away with us.

During the preceding wanderings around the city, we saw a few more things to explore further; we have a full day tomorrow to do so, and I will regale you with them in tomorrow’s post. Check in later and see what else the town has to offer, why don’t you?