i loved Siena. its full of statues of Romus and Remus everywhere being suckled by the she-wolf as allegedly the town was founded by Senius, the son of Remus and the Piazza Campo has to be one of the most stunning city centres i think i've ever seen. they have a bi-annual horse race inside it, thats how big it is. Strangely the afternoon i arrived i could hear singing in the streets and when i went to investigate i found that it was the celebration for the town that had won in August and there was a big feast going on that night. i got a cheap room and spent a couple of hours wandering around but didn't see any of the celebration as i had my own feast of pizza and gelato and hit the sack early. i think i now have restless legs as Sunday was meant to be my rest day (my last rest day before Rome) but i couldn't sit still and ended walking around the whole city. its really stunningly beautiful - architecture, dress, food. its got it all. Monday dawned rather too quickly for my liking and i headed out of the city rather mournful as a few more days there would have done me nicely. still, i only had 25km to do this first day back on the road. the weather was a bit overcast but as i walked i had some really great views back over Siena, perched on top of a mountain. this whole area is volcanic and sometimes you do wonder where the volcanoes are. i mean most are dormant but there are loads of thermal springs in the area and the rolling mountains and hills clearly show the impact of considerable geological change over a long period of time: there's just an awful lot of mountains and hills. i'd rained quite a lot over the wknd and as autumn is now in full swing a lot of the crops have been harvested. i'd already passed a considerable number of tractors ploughing away in weeks past, as well as lorries full of tomatoes, trucks full of grapes and bales of hay everywhere. the landscape here right now is a mixture of bright green and dense brown fields, predominantly brown due to all the harvesting. so what with the rain and the lack of vegetation i ended up walking through fields of mud. it wasn't the kind of mud that just slips off. this mud seemed to stick like glue and every step i took i accumlated more. in the end i felt like i was walking on stilts and as if my feet were covered in clay (which i guess they were). it didn't help when the skies opened, the rain started and i was stuck in the middle of not just a ploughed field but a series of ploughed hills. with the accumulated mud on my feet i was slipping and sliding everywhere as i had no traction. thank god for my trekking poles - they saved me diving head first into some very sticky mudpools. i then found i had to navigate down a particularly slippy slope (it was like trying to iceskate through a mud pit) only to find i had gone the wrong way and then had to grapple my way back up again. the benefit of the rain was that the day was a relaxed one (despite oodles of mud) and i passed through field of dead sunflowers, heads bent like sad little soldiers. i kept thinking how glorious they would have looked in summer but it didn't take away from how mournful they looked right at that moment. that night i stayed in a one-street village called Ponte d'Arbia where i was the only person staying in the pilgrim accomodation - a huge, dusty, derilict residence with echoing halls and lots of closed doors with broken furniture inside. what with that and the wind and rain outside it gave me the fear and i had to lock the door and leave the lights on in the hallway. yep, i'm a wuss but really it was a bit spooky and i didn't like it at all. the next morning was one of the most amazing i've had on my journey so far. i'd gotten up early and as i left the sun had just come up and there was a very light mist covering everything. i passed by flat fields full of thistles covered in cobwebs and as it was so early the morning dew lit the cobwebs up like silver. each blade of grass also had its own little drop of dew so the fields looked like they were made of green-white glass, sparkling away. 
it was a magical effect helped by the clouds of heavy rolling mist that suddenly appeared as if from nowhere: one minute i was walking in the intense bright sun of the early morning and the next i couldn't see 5 yards ahead. the mountains surrounding me kind of appeared and disappeared as the mist and cloud rolled in and over and then off somewhere else. the moon was still high in the sky and the day seemed mystical somehow. it looked cold, yet was warm and hot. the sun blazed and yet there were clouds everywhere. some fields were the brightest green you've ever seen; others just churned dark earth and then when i turned a corner it was almost a desert-mountain landscape with light dry hills & just one Tuscan farmhouse perched on top with maybe a single conifer standing tall and straight. it was an unusual, mesmerising day and i must admit to being quite entranced by the volcanic landscape. 
the day did, however, end with quite a steep ascent to a town called San Quirico d'Orcia. by the time i arrived i was fit to drop and then couldn't find a room so in desperation went to the church. the priest there, Giovanni, was the nicest guy you've ever met in your life and the accomodation was better than a hotel. 2 other pilgrims were there (Marissa and John. he was 77, she 73. there's a lot of pensioners doing this trip so i'm never, ever complaining of pain again!) and i had a lovely hot shower and a beer. Giovanni was so friendly he even invited me to supper with Massimo, an italian grape-picker, and Raphael (a brazilian student). my god they could eat - i was fit to drop by course 6 and then Giovanni had the bright idea of going to a thermal spring in the middle of the countryside at 11pm ! luckily some priestly business distracted him (a knock on the door from a local) and i was able to get to bed without much difficultly. the night presented more of a problem as Marissa and John got up quite a few times (we were in a shared dorm with bunkbeds) and proceeded to bump and crash into the doors, the wall, the toilet, the bunkbed ladders and the washing line. by the time the morning arrived i half expected to find them both strewn across the floor unconscious. i left after saying a big thank you to Giovanni - i think one of the nicest priests i've ever met & the town itself was pretty lovely too. the thing about mountain towns is that firstly you have to climb up to get to them and secondly that you have to climb down again. the third problem can also sometimes be that after doing that you have to do it again as your next destination is also a mountain town. however thats the negative side. the positive side is that i saw one of the most awe-inspiring things i think i've ever witnessed. i walked down the hill from San Quirico and the sun was up and shining with a lazy early-morning lemony light but because were so high up we were above most of the surrounding valleys that were filled with a white-blue-amber mist. it was as if the valleys were lakes and the mountain tops were islands and i stood on the crescent of the path as it curved around the mountain and just stood there watching the light gently play on the mist and the mist gently play in the valleys. it touched the very core of me so unexpectedly that i found it hard to focus on what i was seeing and then when i eventally began walking again i walked down and into the mist and the only way i can describe the essence of what i was feeling was that it was like walking down and across into another world. the whole scene is imprinted upon me - i can see it as i write - and i hope, i hope it stays with me for the whole of my life. its not something i ever want to forget. the rest of the day was, naturally, very different. once the mist had cleared i was back on a quiet but major road in the middle of a hot day for long, long stretches with no towns and just big chunky fields of brown earth on either side. it was never ending and finished with an 10km ascent of about 700 meters that took me 3 hours to climb before i hit Radicofani (sounds rude to me!) about 3pm absolutely knackered. after my good luck with the church yesterday i tried the same again today and met Morena, the local granny who looks after the pilgrim accomodation. she must have been in her 70's and she could hardly climb the stairs (nor could i), and she was huffling and puffing (me too) and then she had to sit on a chair for 10 mins once we got up top (as did i). obviously she realised i was a kindred spirit in all but age. We laughed, we cried, we hugged and danced the night away. ok slight exageration: she staggered down the stairs and i went for a shower. the accommodation was absolutely superb - i could hardly believe it. until i turned the corner and found Marissa and John snoring away - in bed.
it was a magical effect helped by the clouds of heavy rolling mist that suddenly appeared as if from nowhere: one minute i was walking in the intense bright sun of the early morning and the next i couldn't see 5 yards ahead. the mountains surrounding me kind of appeared and disappeared as the mist and cloud rolled in and over and then off somewhere else. the moon was still high in the sky and the day seemed mystical somehow. it looked cold, yet was warm and hot. the sun blazed and yet there were clouds everywhere. some fields were the brightest green you've ever seen; others just churned dark earth and then when i turned a corner it was almost a desert-mountain landscape with light dry hills & just one Tuscan farmhouse perched on top with maybe a single conifer standing tall and straight. it was an unusual, mesmerising day and i must admit to being quite entranced by the volcanic landscape. 
the day did, however, end with quite a steep ascent to a town called San Quirico d'Orcia. by the time i arrived i was fit to drop and then couldn't find a room so in desperation went to the church. the priest there, Giovanni, was the nicest guy you've ever met in your life and the accomodation was better than a hotel. 2 other pilgrims were there (Marissa and John. he was 77, she 73. there's a lot of pensioners doing this trip so i'm never, ever complaining of pain again!) and i had a lovely hot shower and a beer. Giovanni was so friendly he even invited me to supper with Massimo, an italian grape-picker, and Raphael (a brazilian student). my god they could eat - i was fit to drop by course 6 and then Giovanni had the bright idea of going to a thermal spring in the middle of the countryside at 11pm ! luckily some priestly business distracted him (a knock on the door from a local) and i was able to get to bed without much difficultly. the night presented more of a problem as Marissa and John got up quite a few times (we were in a shared dorm with bunkbeds) and proceeded to bump and crash into the doors, the wall, the toilet, the bunkbed ladders and the washing line. by the time the morning arrived i half expected to find them both strewn across the floor unconscious. i left after saying a big thank you to Giovanni - i think one of the nicest priests i've ever met & the town itself was pretty lovely too. the thing about mountain towns is that firstly you have to climb up to get to them and secondly that you have to climb down again. the third problem can also sometimes be that after doing that you have to do it again as your next destination is also a mountain town. however thats the negative side. the positive side is that i saw one of the most awe-inspiring things i think i've ever witnessed. i walked down the hill from San Quirico and the sun was up and shining with a lazy early-morning lemony light but because were so high up we were above most of the surrounding valleys that were filled with a white-blue-amber mist. it was as if the valleys were lakes and the mountain tops were islands and i stood on the crescent of the path as it curved around the mountain and just stood there watching the light gently play on the mist and the mist gently play in the valleys. it touched the very core of me so unexpectedly that i found it hard to focus on what i was seeing and then when i eventally began walking again i walked down and into the mist and the only way i can describe the essence of what i was feeling was that it was like walking down and across into another world. the whole scene is imprinted upon me - i can see it as i write - and i hope, i hope it stays with me for the whole of my life. its not something i ever want to forget. the rest of the day was, naturally, very different. once the mist had cleared i was back on a quiet but major road in the middle of a hot day for long, long stretches with no towns and just big chunky fields of brown earth on either side. it was never ending and finished with an 10km ascent of about 700 meters that took me 3 hours to climb before i hit Radicofani (sounds rude to me!) about 3pm absolutely knackered. after my good luck with the church yesterday i tried the same again today and met Morena, the local granny who looks after the pilgrim accomodation. she must have been in her 70's and she could hardly climb the stairs (nor could i), and she was huffling and puffing (me too) and then she had to sit on a chair for 10 mins once we got up top (as did i). obviously she realised i was a kindred spirit in all but age. We laughed, we cried, we hugged and danced the night away. ok slight exageration: she staggered down the stairs and i went for a shower. the accommodation was absolutely superb - i could hardly believe it. until i turned the corner and found Marissa and John snoring away - in bed.
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