Porcini Passes

i was late crossing the River Po due to getting stuck in the middle of unknown fields so had to try and make up some lost time - which isn't easy when you have feet that feel as if they're cased in cement. about 3-4hrs after crossing the Po i emerged into the centre of Piacenza which is a beautiful city but one that i had to get to by navigating an industrial estate and then an endless road that just went on & on & on forever. for those that live in Sydney just think the Parramatta Road. except it was even longer. & more boring. the usual accomodation issue then had to be dealt with as it was about 5pm and Saturday night. all the Italians were out and about dressed in their finest and there was me, slumped on the steps on the cathedral: dirty, smelly and so tired i couldn't raise my head. i'm surprised they didn't start throwing coins in my direction thinking i was a tramp. however the luck of the Camino smiled on me once again and in the tourist information office 2 lovely italian ladies got me a room for 30 euros that was just perfect: just round the corner it was clean and pleasant and just delightful. there was more unexpected luck as Piacenza was having a 2-day European food festival so i limped off as fast as could (not fast) and had a great time sampling olives, bread, cheese and anything else i could get my mitts on. my energy didn't last long though as i was so, so tired and collapsed into bed and slept like the dead. sadly the dead don't often wake at the sound of church bells which is what i had to do at 7am and this next day was not a pleasant day as it ended up turning out. the VF trail just followed a very busy main road to the next town and yet again it was just me and lots of traffic which really just sucks all the joy out of the day. i think i've said before that sometimes the Camino delivers some odd surprises and so it was that i ran into the only 2 Belgium people that i know in the whole world, both at the same time. there was Freddie the Priest and Jules who i'd met on the pass over from Switzerland to Italy both about to cross the road into a cafe. it was so strange as a minute either way and we'd have missed each other. we had a quick catch up and it was very nice to see them: Freddie was catching the train to Sienna as he was late for Assisi and Jules said he would be following me down the bloody traffic-filled highway. 6 hours later i ended up really pissed off arriving at my destination (i forget the name of the place - it was a pretty small village) as it was dead to the world. sunday is a quiet day in most places but in italy its almost as if the whole population has run off to France for the day. i tried 2 hotels (closed) and the local church (no reply) and then found somewhere not listed in any guidebook called the 'Emerald Hotel'. God know why my Gaydar wasn't working at this point coz it bloody well should have been. the picture in my room of the fluffy cat with a string of pearls looking earnestly down the yellow brick road should have been a bigger warning but in all honestly if there has been a banner over the front entrance saying 'Big Gay Hotel' i probably would have missed it. it was only the next day when i was checking out that i found it was 2 big old queens running it. however the night i arrived there was (yet another) food festival going on here too but with more of an Asian feel as they had food from India, Papua New Guinea, Malaysia and Israel. stuck in a small village with about 6 streets it did seem odd to me but i dived in and ordered some humous and felafel (which was dire but i tried to smile and say it was nice) and then listened to the goddam-awful rock band set up in the Church Square. i could have clicked my little red heels at this point i can tell you. Sunday over, Monday dawned and there was i back on the bloody road again heading towards Fidenza. this was a bit better as i managed to find some rural paths and got back into walking through the little villages and forests that i came here to experience. even so there was a still a lot of roads. Fidenza (when i got there) actually turned out to be a small town but one really well laid out (one street) with everything branching off it. kinda makes things simple and simplicity i value in these troubled days when all i want is someone to point and tell me either a direction in which to walk, a place to eat or where to find a bed to sleep in. the local tourist information place was closed when i got there at 2pm but i rang the bell anyway (i've gone past the point of caring if i wake someone up from their siesta - after all its not as if i ever get one) and gave the woman such a woleful look that she got the maps out and told me where a hotel was and (best of all) sold me a guide with ALL the pathways of the VF mapped out by satellite from here to Lucca!!! i could have bloody kissed her but i was so smelly i think she was glad i kept my distance. the hotel was nearby (the Irish Bar and Pizzeria - who woulda thought?). the night was a good one - i had great pizza and caught up on lots of sleep before heading off in the early morning with my new map leading the way. it was the most gorgeous day. the sun was shining (not too hot) and the air was clean and clear. i headed out of the villages, right into the deep, deep countryside and towards the mountains in this region and then for the whole day i just walked & walked & walked. the views were some of the best i'd seen since the valleys of Aosta right at the start of the VF and even though i was still in some pain it wasn't half as bad as it'd been before. it felt like i was really at the heart of the Camino and powering along through vibrant green fields and the autumn gathering of crops. the freshly churned earth glimmered in the morning light and here you could really see the end of the summer. i passed fields of sunflowers with bent yellow heads bent turned to dark amber and rows and rows of ripe tomatoes, little nuggets of red in green. as the day went on the up higher i went: up and up and up. there were no clouds and the sky was the bluest blue with a blazing hot sun beating down. the VF pathways took me in and out of little villages no bigger than 5 houses with dogs barking in fury as i passed by, my sticks clacking on the road. sometimes i passed under canopies of trees with branches leaning in so i walked through shadows and sunshine at the same time. it truely was an incredible day just seeing and feeling the beauty of this country - its just such a transcendant feeling when you're standing at the top of a mountain looking down on a clear afternoon into green valleys with tiny, tiny villages dotted around and nothing, absoutely nothing, disturbing the quiet of the day. that night i ended up in a place called Fornovo di Taro where a rude Priest showed me into a dirty room with 2 bunkbeds and then threw the key at me and left me to sort myself out. as it turned out i was sharing with Dave from Coventry (travelling the world & had already walked the VF to Rome and now was walking back), Danilo the Italian (just doing a weeks' walk to Aulla) and Emilo (an 83-year old Swiss guy who seemed not to be able to stop talking). Emilio did know an awful lot of stuff but my god by the end of the evening i was waving a white flag of surrender. he just didn't stop. the rest of us couldn't get a world in edgeways - we'd gone for a pizza and had eaten ours whilst he hadn't even had one slice of his!!! i must say though that for an 83yr old to do the VF is pretty amazing. Danilo was also quite knowledgable - he works for a bank but his ambition (such a great one) is to manage a forest and he knew all about Porcini mushrooms as they're a speciality of this region and people hunt them in the forests (which i must say i think is a very good idea as they are bloody delicious). it turned into an early but disturbed night as Emilo got up at 3am and then spent half an hour trying to get back into his sleeping bag & there was the obligatory snoring - which you always get with lots of guys in a room together (or with my friend Jane who i know has taken a few tiles off a few roofs in her time!). the church bells ringing right above our heads didn't help either so when i got up ('waking up' not being the correct phrase since i seemed to be awake half the night anyway) i quickly packed and shot out the door. this day was as bright and brilliant as the day before and as i knew i had quite a distance to cover - 32km - i decided to push on at a quicker pace and yet again it was the same stupendous mountain views as the day before. except for the fact that i missed a VF sign (which meant i walked around the side of a mountain that i didn't need to and lost 2 hrs) it was a great day but i'd been through 2 tough days of travel up and down mountain slopes: i'd go up one side, down the other, up another one, down again, up a third, and down. you get the picture. lets just say it never seemed to end and when the freshness of the morning turns into the weariness of the late afternoon you end up literally begging for your destination to appear. as i'd taken the wrong path, by 3pm i was fit to drop & i looked at my map and realised that i still had another 2hrs to go. its at these moments that you either discover the stubborness, the stupidly or the sheer desperation of being able to keep going & at 5pm i got to Berceto - which happened to be at the bottom of quite a steep hill. God knows what the local villagers thought seeing a foreigner run down a sharp slope with sticks waving above his head screaming and unable to stop. 2 old grannies stopped gossiping and gave me a very strange look. however with no serious injury the local hotel was very easy to find and had a great restaurant - fantastic pasta funghi - and i filled up and slept for a solid 10hrs. this morning (for this morning it was) i had NO PAIN for the first time in 2 weeks. i was feeling knackered though - in 18 days trekking i've only had one rest day and am starting to feel like i need another as now i find myself actually waking up tired. once i get going its ok but its not easy. my own body does surprise me sometimes, just with the stamina i seem to have developed. some of the slopes i've had to climb in the past few days just keep going up at angles ranging from 45 to 60 to 80 degrees. part of it is that you just HAVE to keep going - you have no choice - but there are othertimes when you could just cry with desperation. just when you think its over, its not, it gets harder, and harder. and then harder again. but still you do it, still you keep going. this morning it was very, very misty. not since Mortala about 10 days ago have i seen mist like this (or rain) and even though its mid-September the weather has been really lovely. the mist did seem to suggest rain (which apparently will come tomorrow) but off i headed up the mountain again. it was a very different day - all on road, but on very quiet mountain roads that wound around and around and with visibility that waxed and wained. there were times when i couldn't see 5 metres in front of me, and yet other times when i could see over to the mountains alongside and see huge torrents of cloud and mist just swell and fall, diving into shadow with the sun behind. the smell of pine filled the air and the valleys and mountains appeared and disappeared as mist rolled backwards and forwards like surf over sand. it was another long day to reach Pontremoli - a strange medieaval town unlike any other i've seen so far. you can imagine that in some parts its exactly the same now as 500 years ago and has about 4 stone bridges and a castle - and its raining. tomorrow its yet another another long day and but then a shorter one of about 20km as i get to meet up with Sasha in Saranza on a Saturday night. i think i'd better get my clothes washed. or burnt.