Tag Archives: Via Francigena

Day 14 – Bolsena to Montefiascone – dreaded but actually delightful

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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?

 

 

 

Day 12 – Radicofani to Acquapendente – Down, Right Cheating

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Sunday 25 May 2025 – I’ve just learned that today is Towel Day. I hope you all know where your towel is. Today, mine was in my backpack against the need to dry my feet in case of an unsuccessful Ford (Prefect?) crossing. Admittedly, that likelihood was faint, as there were no fords on today’s walk, but still; I knew where my towel was.

Another thing I learned is how to pronounce Radicofani. I had been putting the emphasis on the “fan” bit of the word, but this is wrong. It should, rather, rhyme with “cacophony”. I hope this nugget comes in useful for some of you at your swish dinner parties.

And so to today’s walk, which was dull, but had points of interest and produced many photographs. The dull bit was the actual walking, which was largely downhill, on dirt roads and in pitiless sunshine. The temperature was not high – still around 20°C – but it was hot in the direct sunlight; and we spent some two-and-a-half hours walking downhill, on the gravelly, dusty strade bianche (the “white roads” of Tuscany) under those conditions. I am normally as in favour of downhill walking as I am sullenly against uphill work, but 150 minutes of quite steep descent is quite hard work.

Before we started our downhill walking, though, we were given a good breakfast and taken, along with another couple of British pellegrinos, to the centre of Radicofani. Time was getting on by that stage, so we didn’t spend a lot of time in the town, but did look around a bit before starting to walk towards our destination for the day, Acquapendente. (I should point out that Acqua was not at all Pendente during the day – the forecast was for sunshine, with no rain.)

We looked first into the cathedral, the church of St. Peter.

The altar piece is, unusually, ceramic (terracotta with polychrome glazes) and by Andrea Della Robbia, a 15th-century Florentine sculptor.

A side chapel held what was possibly another piece from the Della Robbia workshop.

Across the street is the church of St. Agata with yet another such piece.

Neither, sadly, provided us with a Timbro, a stamp for our credenziali passport.

The lady who drove us into the town pointed out a square we should visit, the Piazzatta del Teatro, as a very Tuscan square. It is, indeed, very pretty.

It’s also, probably, the last typically Tuscan thing we’ll see, since Radicofani is the last town in Tuscany if you’re heading south on the Via Francigena.

The tower that makes Radicofani so easily identifiable from distance is a fortress and is up a bloody steep hill from the town, so I hope you’ll forgive us for not toiling up there. I suppose I could have tried getting a drone shot at it, but frankly we wanted to get on with the walking (this being before it was borne in on us how tedious it would be).

The fortress has a personality associated with it, the local equivalent of Robin Hood, Ghino di Tacco. In 1297, he took possession of the Fortress, dominating the territory with his deeds and raids, but always taking care to leave his victims enough to live on. To some he was a “punisher of injustice and powerful men”, for others simply a “daring bandit.” In Radicofani, there is a square with his name

with, at the far end, an artwork portraying him in action, which can be seen with the tower in the background.

So we departed Radicofani

and headed down on the endlessly downhill dirt road

which at least gave us a decent view back up to the fortress and tower.

Because we were still at altitude, we got fabulous views to combat the tedium of tramping downhill. The favourite local volcano, Mount Amiati, was clearly visible

and you could just make out steam rising from a local thermal pool driven by the volcanic forces at work;

there are, apparently, five thermal baths around the area, courtesy of the local volcanoes; Radicofani sits atop the other.

A word here about water. A fellow walker (and much more adventurous hiker), Ian Burley, who is currently scrambling up and down dangerous slopes in Spain, asked about the availability of water along this route. His current wanderings have taken him to the wilds of the Spanish wilderness where he is undertaking the sort of hard-core hiking which Jane and I will never do; he has to take litres of water with him every day. We, however, have never had any problem with keeping hydrated. We take maybe three litres between us each day and have yet to finish half of what we’ve taken; possibly a reflection of the relative coolness of the weather at the moment. The Via Francigena is well supplied with sources of potable water, which are well signposted.

The Radicofani tower dominates the landscape for a long time as one descends along the Via

but one can sense the landscape changing,

and becoming less suitable for arable farming and better suited to sheep.

We came to another of those unusual junctions where the correct way is down, not up.

and grimly carried on down.

About half way down the descent there was a rather nice pilgrims’ rest point

better suited, I suppose, to those going up than to those descending. There’s even a selfie point.

so a solo traveller can set up his or her phone to take the selfie using the frame.

A corn bunting watched us carry on down

and we passed a heap of sheep.

Quite why they were bundled together like this at the top end of a field we don’t know. The geology showed that some significant land movements had happened over the aeons

which is why the land is unsuitable for crop farming, I guess.

Eventually, we reached the bottom of the descent, at Ponte a Rigo. The S-cape app said that we could take lunch there, and we were hoping that a bar that had escaped the notice of Google Maps would materialise; but no.

Just a church.  A sign shortly before had had the icons of a fork and a cup, which had raised our hopes, but presumably they were referring to the picnic spot there.

It was occupied when we arrived, but the people, a Swiss couple of bicigrinos, were just departing and we had an affable chat with them, and wished them luck on their onward journey – up into Radicofani! Bloody lunatics.

The tedious descent in the pitiless sunshine morphed into a slightly less tedious walk in the pitiless sunshine along a farm track beside the road, past a few rural features of note: an enormous multi-arch irrigation boom;

some aestivating snails;

and a field full of flowers that we didn’t recognise.

(I realise that the category “flowers that Steve doesn’t recognise” extends to almost all of the botanical universe; but Jane didn’t recognise them either, and that’s unusual). At first, Jane thought it was just a field overtaken by weeds. but it was clear there was systematic planting at work

so Jane consulted the internet to discover what this flower was,

and read that it was buckwheat – just before a sign showing that the internet isn’t all fake news.

The crop belonged, we think, to the farm we next encountered, which had an encouraging sign that maybe there was a punta ristoro we could rest at.

Don’t ask me why that aeroplane is there

And there was;

there, beside that dirty great truck.

I suppose we could have availed ourselves of it, but it wasn’t that attractive a prospect and we weren’t that desperate. So we moved on. We passed a possible resting point with some kind of reference to Pope Boniface on it,

an Agriturismo establishment at a place called Torricella

and the border marking the end of Tuscany.

Shortly thereafter, we came to Centeno, another place which the S-cape app inaccurately had told us that there was the possibility of a rest stop. Google Maps was of the opinion that there was a trattoria there, but it would be closed, because it was (a) Sunday and (b) after 2pm. And so it was.

From Centeno, for the next 5km or so, walking the Via simply means walking along a main road, which is unpleasant and potentially dangerous. Our arrangements involved phoning a pre-arranged number to be driven along that 5km stretch and dropped at Ponte Gregoriana so that we could complete the walk to Acquapendente. Since this involved an uphill pull, I was thinking “bollocks to that; let’s just get a lift to the town”. Fortunately, Jane was of the same opinion as me. Sitting in the shade by the trattoria and the town defibrillator, Jane made contact with Senora Morena del Segato and she said she would be along in 10 or 15 minutes. During those minutes, a couple of ladies came by looking dispirited. They were, like us, Brits walking the Via, and had set their hearts on that trattoria being open, and were really despondent that it wasn’t; plus one of them wasn’t feeling too well.  It transpired that they were also headed to Acquapendente and so we invited them to join our lift; fortunately Morena was open to the idea and she whisked us off to the centre of the town. This means we’ve sort of cheated, in that we didn’t walk that final 4km or so up into Acquapendente. But you know what? I don’t care; deal with it.

Having cheated our way into central Acquapendente, our next game was to get into our accommodation, which was a B&B called “Il Teatro”.  Jane found us the theatre OK

but getting into it was another thing. Fortunately, Jane had the contact details for the owners and they WhatsApped us directions so we could get in. Just inside the door, reassuringly, were our suitcases.  All we then had to do was to manhandle them up three storeys to our room. Once Jane had sorted things out with the owners, it all worked rather well – a decent room with breakfast materials provided in the little kitchen (including Twining’s finest Earl Grey!) so we could construct something for ourselves in the morning.

It was nearing 3pm by this stage, and we both wanted some lunch; so, for once, eating took priority over hygiene and we set out in search of a restaurant in our walking gear. A central restaurant, Albergo Toscana, was still prepared to serve us lunch, so we took our seats near the bar whilst, in the neighbouring room, a raucous gathering of Italians was also embarking on their lunch.

We were a bit surprised, halfway through our lunch, when Morena turned up at the restaurant. She explained to us that the group were celebrating someone’s 80th birthday. I may be rude about Italians and their predilection for noisy conversation; but I have to hand it to them for the singing. When Brits sing “Happy Birthday” they inevitably start in the wrong key and miss the high notes; but the Italian crew were bang on in their rendition.

We had an agreeable meal – no gin available, but the beer was good – and then, to settle lunch down, we went for a walk. Obviously.  Acquapendente isn’t a tourist town like San Gimignano; it’s largely just this place where people live and work; but there were one or two things worth exploring.

For a start, this is the first Italian town we’ve walked through where there is a decent amount of street art.

There’s a fine town hall

and some attractive corners.

The church of St. Antony and St Catherine

is obviously Confessional Central for the town; there were no fewer than four confessional booths in the church! It has some nice trompe l’oeuil work around its paintings, so it’s difficult to work out what is and isn’t marble, for instance (spoiler alert: none of it is)

and there is an intriguing dark-faced figure on one wall, which we think is a black madonna and child in the tradition of Madonna of Loreto.

There is a cathedral

with some very dramatic artwork on display (though we’re not, frankly, sure what each artwork represents).

Some, like this one, have been made from flower petals – very impressive work.

The final thing we went in search of was the Barbarossa Tower, a clock tower. This is (sigh!) above the town, so we toiled up streets and steps to find it.

At least, after doing all that climbing, we got a decent view over the town.

And so a day of tedious walking has, in fact, been rather interesting; our “cheating” meant we got a decent chance to wander around and appreciate Acquapendente.

We have a couple more walks to do before we get another rest day. I think my underwear supply will hold out until then. Tomorrow, we head to Bolsena, some 23km away. On paper, it doesn’t look too arduous a trek, but I’ve been wrong about that before now; but at least we are promised a rest stop about halfway along. Stay tuned to see how the day unfolded, won’t you?

Day 11 – Castiglione d’Orcia (almost) to Radicofani – Ford Focus

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Saturday 24 May 2025 – We knew that the day was likely to be a longish and toughish one, as the overall distance was going to be over 20km, but not as tough as it might be – despite the total lack of coffee stops. We were also aware that there were three fords to cross, a couple of which could be problemmatical after heavy rain. However, the weather has been dry, and so we hoped these wouldn’t present a problem; but there’s always the tinge of doubt in the back of the mind.

The “official” stage end should be Radicofani, which is at the end of a climb which the S-cape app describes as “challenging”. We, however, will stop short at an Agriturismo; tomorrow morning they will give us a lift into Radicofani, I’m glad to say.  All the above means that the elevation profile we had to deal with went as far as the chap in this pic.

This left us with a walk of about 21km and a climb towards the end of over 300m.

We bade goodbye to our room, which (as Jane discovered yesterday) has a great view of the Rocca fortress,

and headed down to breakfast, which was served in the restaurant linked to the B&B, the same place we’d had lunch yesterday, and was served from 8am – a bit later than we’d like, but never mind. It was a slightly rudimentary breakfast, and so we were on our way before 8.30. We passed the Pieve, of Santi Stefano and Degna, which was open, so we looked in.

Stained glass, presumably of the church’s two eponymous saints

Inside was the friendliest church cat

which was happy to meet both of us, and sat, possibly mournfully, watching us as we departed.

To get back to the offical Via Francigena, which doesn’t pass through Castiglione, we headed (steeply) back down the way we had (steeply) come up into Castiglione the day before. We made things slightly tougher than necessary by missing a turn and having to pant back up to it, but eventually joined the Via and got under way. In the extreme distance, we could see the tower of Radicofani’s fortess, which itself is quite a lot higher than the town.

Looking back, we had a great view of Castiglione in the morning sunshine.

The scenery was great, as one would expect on a sunny morning and viewed from altitude

and in the distance we could see Radicofani – just about.

For a long while we were on a dirt road, and this led us to another slip in navigation. The Via departed from the dirt road, but the signposting was very poor – practically invisible from the direction we were walking. Luckily, Jane noticed that we’d once again passed our turning, and we hastened back to get on the right track. It led past scenery of which one could say, in one’s Chandler Bing voice, “could it be any more Tuscan?”

At around halfway through the walk, we came to the first ford

which, as expected but still somehow to our relief, was not at all difficult to cross. Shortly after, there’s an abandoned hospital, Le Briccole (where St. Francis of Assisi is rumoured to have stayed at one point) and the chapel of San Pellegrino,

which we’d hoped might provide somewhere to sit in the shade for a bite to eat. Sadly not, but we benefited shortly after from the beneficence of Gruppo Trekking Senese, the Siena Trekking Group, who placed a picnic table along the track.

This provided a welcome rest stop, where we shared a banana and actually ate one of the Mule Bars which I’d carefully bought to fuel us for our Camino Francés a couple of years back, but which, until now, had remained uneaten. Thus fortified, we walked on, past a second

and a third ford.

Since there has been no rain of any pith or moment recently, these were easy to cross, but one could see that the third one could be quite dangerous if a flood were running through it.

The track became grassy

to the point where once again we sometimes found ourselves wading through waist-high grass. I was pleased to get a photo of an Old World Swallowtail butterfly

and we were generally well-serenaded by the wildlife as we walked along. Sometimes it was the frogs, but we also heard larks, blackbirds, blackcaps, swallows (or swifts) and, delightfully, nightingales. Over the kilometres, we’ve had a great selection of birdsong, including golden orioles and bee eaters, but I’m particularly pleased that we’ve heard nightingales in so many places along our walk.

The fortress tower of Radicofani was often visible in the distance, and sometimes the road even seemed to be leading us that way.

We passed a couple of places where sheep were being farmed; almost all the farming we’d seen so far was arable, so sheep were rare.

Our track led beside a river, the Torrente Formone.

Its name seemed a bit optimistic, but one could also see that it could be quite a sight in the rainy season. I was beginning to flag quite seriously at this point, and it seemed that Gruppo Trekking Senese had my number, as we passed another of their excellently-positioned picnic tables

(a crap view of the main road, but a very welcome rest point).

It seemed to me, in my weary state, that our destination was receding as we walked. Our destination was some 4km short of Radicofani, and seemed that we always had 4km more to go.

We forded the Formone (again being grateful that there hadn’t been heavy rain)

and started the long pull up to our accommodation, an Agriturismo establishment called La Selvella. Wearily, I took a photo of what I hoped might be it

but it wasn’t; it was much further on and much higher. Of course.

That establishment, though was very much agri but not turismo. We passed it, watched by (I assume) the farm cat

and later on (and yes, higher up) saw the sheep that they were farming.

Some of them had been saddle-sheared, leaving a patch of fleece on their backs; we’re not sure why. Anyway, it was their lunchtime and so they all ran off to collect their food when it was brought up.

Courtesy of the ICCE, we got an update on our journey;

only 147km to go, now!  I felt it was shame that the ones we were covering at that particular time were so emphatically uphill. The temperature wasn’t hot – maybe only 20°C – but we were in the direct sun all the time, and I was finding it hard going. I had to stop and take photos of the scenery now and then to give myself a bit of a rest.

Eventually, though, we got to our accommodation, whose gates were

closed, of course. Jane got on the blower to one of the numbers listed and they opened the gates and let us in.

We were checked in by the very friendly Max, who showed us (and, to our relief, carried our bags) to our room, which is all very nice – large, seemingly comfortable and equipped with the things that make our lives good: extra pillows for the bed, a bidet for Jane’s feet and a kettle for some of Twining’s finest Earl Grey. Dinner was not until 8pm, and so there was nothing for it but to relax (I indulged in the first bath I’ve had since 2002) after our fairly heavy day.

Tomorrow, as I say, we get a lift into Radicofani, for which I’m exceedingly grateful – the last 4km into the town are even harder than the last pull we had up to La Selvella. Then we head for Aquapendente, but things are a bit complicated, as one section of the trail runs along a major road and we have to phone someone to be driven along it, as it’s too dangerous to walk. So we probably only have about 20km to walk and most of them are downhill (but we can’t see any coffee stops). Who knows how this will work out? Not us – but we will report back to let you know.