CicloVia Francigena – Part 1
The meanderings of two unusual souls on their way to Rome on the back of steel donkeys…
Part 1: Across the big plains
It all started on the plains of Vercelli, with a very late departure and a long day fighting against headwinds on gravel paths. River banks, rice fields, dismissed water mills, small pockets of woods, a few crossings in the mud. We arrive at the quite random village of Tromello when the bells of the local church are sounding 7pm. Desperation is rising on my companion’s face (as usual...) when faced with the lack of response while ringing at the door of the parish house to ask for hospitality. When we were finally resigned to push on to the next town, the door opened and a team of saviors appeared. They were probably just being busy giving a beating to all those church bells for a good 15 minutes!
On the morning of day 2 we roll into Pavia, follow on a breathtaking path along the banks of the Ticino river, then through flat off-road paths in the deep “pianura padana” agricultural landscape. Some industrial interludes follow, like our desert-style picture standing on the dunes of a cement factory right along the path. A part from meeting an over-accessorized German couple on e-bikes turning round in circles due to a glitch in their GPS, no trace of pilgrims on the way. We also keep getting lost due to poor marking of the path, but our most spectacular detour is a mere 500m distraction, only worth reporting due to an attack of cow’s fleas from a puddle we have to cross… twice. Fearing the reoccurrence of such a pilgrim’s punishment, the sight of my companion starts to miraculously sharpen (Eagle Eye Seyi). So do his fingers, quickly interrogating his smartphone keyboard in search of GPS tracks at every turn.
Despite my initial plan to push on to Piacenza, the hard reality of the Francigena (and -I’d dare to say- the poor performance of my companion) force us to ask asylum to the abbey of Orio Litta, some 30km north of our target. The sunset view from the glass windows of the refurbished premises of the abbey is fantastic. The mayor of the city itself welcomes us, and we met our first mass of pilgrims, all in bed by 9pm (just beside the kitchen where we are having a furtive dinner) and out of it at 6am. Only Michele, a young pilgrim and life vagabond from Torino, leaves later than us, making us feel less undisciplined.
The following morning is essentially rolling on river banks, facing some heavy snowstorms…of poplar fluff, and trying to in vain to arrange a coffee meeting with the Warmshowers contact who had offered to host us the previous night and was extremely keen on meeting us. We rush in to Piacenza, only to discover he is living six kilometers out of town. The decision to disappoint him and stop in the city centre required some heavy texting and an emergency meeting with my peculiar travel mate, always thirsty for coffee breaks. The ugliness of the road getting us out of Piacenza is matched only by the risk of being run over by reckless local drivers, so we decide to afford an ample stop in the football pitch of the first village we encounter. The classic penalty challenge between ex-football team-mates ensues. As the smartest readers may already have guessed, I managed once again to defeat my opponent, in a match that (for once!) was thrilling, due to the leveling effect of kicking a plastic bottle. Not even with such homefield advantage could he fill the technical abyss that sets us apart…
Our evening destination is the city of Fidenza. Some complications in finding the hostel (mismatch between actual location and our maps) and getting into it (requirement to collect the keys at the townhall before 7pm and subsequent rush) were only the prelude to our first serious problem: our status of paperless pilgrims. We are warmly welcomed at the town hall, where a new employee carefully fills in the finest details of our trip. The registration process is lengthy but goes smoothly, as she’s getting ready to hand us the hostel keys. It’s at this point that my inexperienced companion intervenes, forcing me to ask where we can buy Pilgrim’s Credentials. Confused about the request, the woman calls up some colleagues. They take their time to show up but engage in very friendly conversation with us. Then they explain to the woman that the Credential is the booklet where pilgrim’s collect stamps. It’s at the moment of discovering we did not have Credentials that their tone froze and they resolutely declared that we could not access the public hostel. I paled out and so did my travel mate – who can grasp body language much better than Italian. After some vain excuses and an attempt of showing them our home-made fake credential (so far we had been collecting stamps on a piece of paper), we adopted the strategy of silence… staring at them in desperation. After a long moment of intense gazing, the local bureaucrats finally melted and we reached an agreement: we could stay for one night, but under the condition that we get Credentials from the tourist office the day after. We were graced! It was a double victory for my shrewd companion: a hot bed for the night and the chance of a lazy morning, as we had to wait till their opening time at 9am! As it soon became apparent, a late start was the last thing we needed the following day…
The night in Fidenza continued with a scam dinner in a posh restaurant recommended by us by a bald guy we met in the street (Signor Comeci). When you order a dish of pasta and a pretentious waiter replies “Ok, we’ll start with that”, you can already guess that the size of the portion will be far smaller than the size of the square dish that contains it. We settled and left, ignoring the fake astonishment of the waiter. Back to the hostel kitchen for a hearty helping of rice kindly offered to us by Freia, a young German girl travelling backwards (south to north).
