so there i was walking through the Village of Silent Cats again but this time there were no cats to be seen anywhere. 3 villagers were wandering around looking at me very suspiciously but there were no cats to be seen at all. despite knowing it was all a little weird and crazy i did feel a little uneasy. maybe it was the mist, the quiet, the feeling of being somewhere that you don't know and can't get a handle on. whatever it was i could see why 1,000 myths and fairytales had grown in this region: the feeling of the land, of the mountains and the mist created mystery and illusion.
but now 2 hours behind schedule i tried to go a little faster as i still needed to be in Sarzana by 2pm but it was tough going with steep ascents and steeper descents. it didn't rain again but that didn't matter as the humidity was so high i was dripping with sweat. the trees were packed together tightly and the edge of the path ran next to steep slopes falling away sharply onto rocks and streams of mud. it took a long time before i got to the next village desperate for a coffee and a rest but the cafe was chusio (closed) and i was late. i managed a banana and some yoghurt hunkered down in a doorway before heading off on the last 10km into the town. best of all i was semi-on time. just as i hit the outskirst of Sarzana i ran into Jules again and 10 minutes later the city centre - where almost immediately Sasha turned up on his bike. at this point it was a quick goodbye to Jules and big hello to Sasha. it must have been about 3 years since i'd seen him but he looked exactly the same - blue t-shirt, blue eyes and a big smile. after 2 weeks cycling from Rome to Florence he seemed in pretty good shape and had had some great adventures. we had a quick beer, did some shopping in the monthly French Market and headed off to to the farmhouse he'd booked. Sasha having his finger on the pulse of modern techonology had brought an ipad with him that had a Google Map & GPS system attached. he regaled me with the tales of all the times he'd used it bicycling around Italy and quickly established our position in relation to where to we needed to go: 'its just around the corner'. 8 corners later my feet were killing me but the farmhouse appeared and it was lovely: villaesque with a restaurant (being used for a wedding that weekend), swimming pool and separate accomodation. we booked in, settled down, caught up, ate, drank and then collapsed into our beds. the next morning the sense of relief i had not having to get up and start walking at 7am was amazing. it also helped that i'd persuaded the lady at reception to wash all my clothes in the washing machine so they were properly clean! i can't tell you how nice that felt (and smelt!). Sasha used his GPS to find the swimming pool and off we went and proceeded to spend a drunken day just lying down, chatting, eating, ipadding, exchanging travel stories and chatting with the odd drunken wedding guest. i should mention that the night before we were a little bit pissed and desperate for coffee so had nipped over to the pre-wedding meal that was going on and persuaded one of the waiters to make us a cappucino. the same waiter was on duty when we were lounging by the swimming pool and as it turned out that just last year he had walked the Camino de Santiago and then took off his shirt to show me the tattoo on his back (of a shell - the symbol of the CdS). Sasha was using the GPS to navigate from the swimming pool to the toilet and back whilst one of the very drunken wedding guests was telling me about his trip to Mykonos and all the lovely girls there. Yes, how very believable that he was straight and yet coming over to talk to 2 gay men but he did give us both a lemoncello before staggering back to the wedding. Sasha and i pigged out on french cheese, olives, some delicious bread and grapes whilst loving the view over the pool to the mountains: the clouds were sweeping up and over in all sorts of shapes and sizes and looked like they wee going to hit in a big storm but somehow seemed to veer off leaving us with a perfect day doing nothing except chill and relax which we did with expertise. very sadly the evening drew on all too quickly and, leaving Sasha using the GPS to go from the bedroom to the toilet, i hit the sack. the next morning it was a slightly sad farewell as the weekend had been great and now we were going on our separate ways and soon back to our separate countries and who knows when we would see each other again. this i find one of the more difficult things in life as i get older: the friends and family i have that live in the UK or elsewhere i never get to see so much of and i really feel it. i guess its the price you pay for living so far away. but anyway, Sasha used the GPS to take us down an overgrown path where we had to bend double and got soaked in dew from the overhanging reeds before finally reaching the main road. this was goodbye and i went one way as Sasha went the otherusing the GPS as a guide. i heard a crash but looking back seemed impolite.
this day was the start of my 4th week on the VF and it seemed at the start like it was going to be great but i was too confident and still needed to learnt the lessons i should have learnt many times before: the first of these being get rid of your expectations. the journey for the day was a long one of about 35km but it was all along the mediterranean sea. great - or so i thought. the first stage was amazing: after about 40 minutes along some fairly busy roads i hit the sea and walked onto beach littered with red and white deckchairs all laid out in a grid with the clear bright early sun freshening the morning and there behind were the Marble Mountains: backlit by the sun and an incredible view. it was definitely a Wow! moment. i had a coffee and croissant and then started walking along the beach and at first it was fine as i walked along the sand at the edge of the sea but eventually had to head slightly inland where there were promonades and minor roads. this whole area (apparantly made famous by Shelley in the days when it was an empty penninsula) had beach restaurants on one side and hotels on the other and i was inbetween. the distances were huge and as the day went on the scenery just became repetitive and boring. and never-ending. it got to 2pm and then 3pm and 4pm and i still was going: hot, tired and really not in a good mood. the small town of Piestrasanta eventually appeared and i arrived in the main square and found good accomodation pretty quickly. the town is famous for being adopted by local artists due to being so near all the marble and it really was a lovely town: full of little artist studios, statues everywhere and some lovely little cafes and restaurants. rather annoyingly my camera had broken (whilst i was taking a photo of a most amazing mushroom - i think i must be turning into a Mushroom Hunter!) so i lucked out and found the one little shop in town that could sell me another. the next day i was up early and off to the famous walled city of Lucca. this was another long day too and i was a bit worried as my leg had been playing up. blisters were no longer a problem: i still get them but my feet have become so hardened (or maybe now my tolerance of pain has increased) they no longer bother me. the new problem was that my left leg had become inflammed from just above the ankle to about mid-shin with a dull, aching pain. it was clearly inflammed from all the walking or from something biting me. whatever it was it hurt and with a long day ahead i was really quite anxious about how it would be. sometimes the Camino is strange and days can be the mirror opposite of each other. the previous day walking by the sea i had really looked forward to but it had disappointed me. this day, which i really was NOT looking forward to, turned out to be fantastic. there were a lot of mountains but i was walking through Tuscany and the scenery was just incredible. considering its late-September the air is clear, you can see for miles and miles and the smell of pine just suffuses everything. as soon as the classic confiers started appearing i had a grin on my face as wide as can be and it lasted the whole day. my leg actually was ok as well: it did start aching when i hit the outskirts of Lucca but on the whole there were no major worries. Lucca itself has a reputation of being one of the most beautiful cities in all of Italy due to having its old Medieaval walls still extant, as well as all the bell towers and shops and little narrow alleyways. it also had tourists, tourists and more tourists
but now 2 hours behind schedule i tried to go a little faster as i still needed to be in Sarzana by 2pm but it was tough going with steep ascents and steeper descents. it didn't rain again but that didn't matter as the humidity was so high i was dripping with sweat. the trees were packed together tightly and the edge of the path ran next to steep slopes falling away sharply onto rocks and streams of mud. it took a long time before i got to the next village desperate for a coffee and a rest but the cafe was chusio (closed) and i was late. i managed a banana and some yoghurt hunkered down in a doorway before heading off on the last 10km into the town. best of all i was semi-on time. just as i hit the outskirst of Sarzana i ran into Jules again and 10 minutes later the city centre - where almost immediately Sasha turned up on his bike. at this point it was a quick goodbye to Jules and big hello to Sasha. it must have been about 3 years since i'd seen him but he looked exactly the same - blue t-shirt, blue eyes and a big smile. after 2 weeks cycling from Rome to Florence he seemed in pretty good shape and had had some great adventures. we had a quick beer, did some shopping in the monthly French Market and headed off to to the farmhouse he'd booked. Sasha having his finger on the pulse of modern techonology had brought an ipad with him that had a Google Map & GPS system attached. he regaled me with the tales of all the times he'd used it bicycling around Italy and quickly established our position in relation to where to we needed to go: 'its just around the corner'. 8 corners later my feet were killing me but the farmhouse appeared and it was lovely: villaesque with a restaurant (being used for a wedding that weekend), swimming pool and separate accomodation. we booked in, settled down, caught up, ate, drank and then collapsed into our beds. the next morning the sense of relief i had not having to get up and start walking at 7am was amazing. it also helped that i'd persuaded the lady at reception to wash all my clothes in the washing machine so they were properly clean! i can't tell you how nice that felt (and smelt!). Sasha used his GPS to find the swimming pool and off we went and proceeded to spend a drunken day just lying down, chatting, eating, ipadding, exchanging travel stories and chatting with the odd drunken wedding guest. i should mention that the night before we were a little bit pissed and desperate for coffee so had nipped over to the pre-wedding meal that was going on and persuaded one of the waiters to make us a cappucino. the same waiter was on duty when we were lounging by the swimming pool and as it turned out that just last year he had walked the Camino de Santiago and then took off his shirt to show me the tattoo on his back (of a shell - the symbol of the CdS). Sasha was using the GPS to navigate from the swimming pool to the toilet and back whilst one of the very drunken wedding guests was telling me about his trip to Mykonos and all the lovely girls there. Yes, how very believable that he was straight and yet coming over to talk to 2 gay men but he did give us both a lemoncello before staggering back to the wedding. Sasha and i pigged out on french cheese, olives, some delicious bread and grapes whilst loving the view over the pool to the mountains: the clouds were sweeping up and over in all sorts of shapes and sizes and looked like they wee going to hit in a big storm but somehow seemed to veer off leaving us with a perfect day doing nothing except chill and relax which we did with expertise. very sadly the evening drew on all too quickly and, leaving Sasha using the GPS to go from the bedroom to the toilet, i hit the sack. the next morning it was a slightly sad farewell as the weekend had been great and now we were going on our separate ways and soon back to our separate countries and who knows when we would see each other again. this i find one of the more difficult things in life as i get older: the friends and family i have that live in the UK or elsewhere i never get to see so much of and i really feel it. i guess its the price you pay for living so far away. but anyway, Sasha used the GPS to take us down an overgrown path where we had to bend double and got soaked in dew from the overhanging reeds before finally reaching the main road. this was goodbye and i went one way as Sasha went the otherusing the GPS as a guide. i heard a crash but looking back seemed impolite.
this day was the start of my 4th week on the VF and it seemed at the start like it was going to be great but i was too confident and still needed to learnt the lessons i should have learnt many times before: the first of these being get rid of your expectations. the journey for the day was a long one of about 35km but it was all along the mediterranean sea. great - or so i thought. the first stage was amazing: after about 40 minutes along some fairly busy roads i hit the sea and walked onto beach littered with red and white deckchairs all laid out in a grid with the clear bright early sun freshening the morning and there behind were the Marble Mountains: backlit by the sun and an incredible view. it was definitely a Wow! moment. i had a coffee and croissant and then started walking along the beach and at first it was fine as i walked along the sand at the edge of the sea but eventually had to head slightly inland where there were promonades and minor roads. this whole area (apparantly made famous by Shelley in the days when it was an empty penninsula) had beach restaurants on one side and hotels on the other and i was inbetween. the distances were huge and as the day went on the scenery just became repetitive and boring. and never-ending. it got to 2pm and then 3pm and 4pm and i still was going: hot, tired and really not in a good mood. the small town of Piestrasanta eventually appeared and i arrived in the main square and found good accomodation pretty quickly. the town is famous for being adopted by local artists due to being so near all the marble and it really was a lovely town: full of little artist studios, statues everywhere and some lovely little cafes and restaurants. rather annoyingly my camera had broken (whilst i was taking a photo of a most amazing mushroom - i think i must be turning into a Mushroom Hunter!) so i lucked out and found the one little shop in town that could sell me another. the next day i was up early and off to the famous walled city of Lucca. this was another long day too and i was a bit worried as my leg had been playing up. blisters were no longer a problem: i still get them but my feet have become so hardened (or maybe now my tolerance of pain has increased) they no longer bother me. the new problem was that my left leg had become inflammed from just above the ankle to about mid-shin with a dull, aching pain. it was clearly inflammed from all the walking or from something biting me. whatever it was it hurt and with a long day ahead i was really quite anxious about how it would be. sometimes the Camino is strange and days can be the mirror opposite of each other. the previous day walking by the sea i had really looked forward to but it had disappointed me. this day, which i really was NOT looking forward to, turned out to be fantastic. there were a lot of mountains but i was walking through Tuscany and the scenery was just incredible. considering its late-September the air is clear, you can see for miles and miles and the smell of pine just suffuses everything. as soon as the classic confiers started appearing i had a grin on my face as wide as can be and it lasted the whole day. my leg actually was ok as well: it did start aching when i hit the outskirts of Lucca but on the whole there were no major worries. Lucca itself has a reputation of being one of the most beautiful cities in all of Italy due to having its old Medieaval walls still extant, as well as all the bell towers and shops and little narrow alleyways. it also had tourists, tourists and more tourists
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