Today's Discovery
It’s our discovery. Not known even to our friends, in whose house we’re staying. We found a 13th C pilgrim’s route to the top of Montefalcone. And it starts right in our back yard!
It happened like this.
Even though we’re up in the rural hills, there aren’t any country roads up here that don’t also serve as thruways for drivers who think they’re Mario Andretti. So, I wasn’t too keen on going for walks here. Yet, when coming back home from a drive one day, we noticed a foot path going into the fields at the rear of the house.
We started exploring it, figuring that, if we were trespassing anyone’s land, they’d let us know nicely. It was a really nice country road, a bit rocky and progressively steeper. But we had the nice fields all around us and a view toward the perched city of Montefalcone Appennino steep atop up on the tufa cliff above us.
We noticed a cordoned off path as we got right up to the cliff face. So we turned away and followed the ridge to the highway. Then walked down it to the house.
Our neighbor sitting out beside his door, as he always does, saw us return. He asked if we knew about the medieval path that goes right up the rocks to Montefalcone. No, but we’d seen a narrow path up there and described it.
That’s where we headed the next time we set out. When we again faced the limestone abutments of the cliff, we walked off to one side to the much narrower path among the trees.
It was cordoned off, but our neighbor had told us to disregard this. So, gulping a bit at our “don’t trespass” trespassing, I let my walking sticks take me to the other side of the cord.
We started single-file upon the narrow stone path leading up the rocks, atop which stood the town of Montefalcone itself. The path was very steep in places, but good footing throughout. Here were the laid rocks that pilgrims had placed centuries before. And what a fine little path it was! Steady and steep, but sure, to the top. I thought of women and men in the 13th C laying the stones we were walking on. How many feet and how many stories have passed this way? Maybe a Boccaccio was among them, lightening loads or poking pretention with his ribald tales.
Views of the valley below rewarded you at different places along the path and at its switchbacks. There was even a sign pointing out that this was indeed the “sentiero mediovale.” We were subsequently told that this narrow and winding path had also once been used by those living atop the cliff to get their water from the river below. Ugh! What a haul that would have been.
Not too far along this path, we took a right at a turning point (as we’d been told), and a few meters on beheld a tall and narrow shrine built right against the cliff face. As we passed, a nice little shrine beckoned. A simple, small white relief plaque of Maria holding flowers hung above our heads. Below her, a simply wooden sign entreated, Fermati Pellegrini…Stop Pilgrims, as you pass, and salute/greet Maria. Which we willingly did as we continued onward, thankful for those who had made the path and laid the stones so many centuries ago.
This was the path locally known since medieval times. The path continued upward along switchbacks The rocks were well worn into the soil and well placed for foot traffic. I was more and more appreciative as I climbed. Steep in places, but not too steep even for me, reliant on my walking sticks, to manage.
After some suitable huffing and puffing, we reached the very top. At this location stands the Church of St. Michele Archangelo, and you’re in Montefalcone. The first time took us more than an hour to get to the top. But we’ve been back several times since and, once you know the path and have been trekking for a bit, it won’t take more than 45 minutes going slowly but steadily up. But it always feels like you’ve accomplished a great deal.
Obviously, the way to come back down is to reverse your steps. But the first time we went, the dark clouds made me fearful of rain and a too slippery step down the steep stone path. So, we decided to walk along the highway. I figured I was more likely to fall from a slippery rock (imaging another disaster for my spine) than be hit by a car.
Mistake. It took us hours to reach home, having taken the wrong road down. The black clouds loomed closer, the thunder began clapping, and I even saw a falcon take flight from a nearby tree. It was getting colder by the moment, but at least no rain… just the constant threat of it. We were lost. Then we were lost and tired. Then we were still lost but numb. We blindly reckoned we’d have to get somewhere we recognized as long as we kept going down.
A nice thing happened. As we walked this unfamiliar territory, a woman was picking cherries high atop a ladder resting on a tree above the road. This was nasty weather, so I suppose she wanted to get them all in before the rains. I waved as I saw her and she called out, asking if we wanted her to drop us come cherries from the tree. Now, cherry happs to be a word in Italian that I’ve known for years. I like its sound: ciliegie (chili-ay-gee-ay). Sure thing. And I thankfully caught two bunches, which we munched along our way. Do you know how especially good juicy cherries can taste when you’re close to despair? We still didn’t know where we were. But how far could it be?
Too numb and cold and tired to be mad at our folly, we finally hit a stretch of road that allowed us another view up at Montefalcone. But this view was from the opposite side of where we’d started! So on we trudged, no words spoken.
When we finally got home (and later retraced our route...by car!), we’d walked more than 10k, a remarkable distance for me in my less than full-bodied state. I imagine that any penance that might have been due had been made.
Today's Painting
What a total surprise, starting on the dirt and gravel path right behind our house that led though fields and a scattering of houses, to have made this adventure.
At home again, we ate a peach. It’s another of the delicious fruits in season now. This variety, called Pesche Saturnine, is doughnut-shaped but without the hole. It’s a mild yellow-white color inside, sweet and juicy. “Saturn” for colored rings around planet, I assume. It's good.
It’s our discovery. Not known even to our friends, in whose house we’re staying. We found a 13th C pilgrim’s route to the top of Montefalcone. And it starts right in our back yard!
It happened like this.
Even though we’re up in the rural hills, there aren’t any country roads up here that don’t also serve as thruways for drivers who think they’re Mario Andretti. So, I wasn’t too keen on going for walks here. Yet, when coming back home from a drive one day, we noticed a foot path going into the fields at the rear of the house.
We started exploring it, figuring that, if we were trespassing anyone’s land, they’d let us know nicely. It was a really nice country road, a bit rocky and progressively steeper. But we had the nice fields all around us and a view toward the perched city of Montefalcone Appennino steep atop up on the tufa cliff above us.
We noticed a cordoned off path as we got right up to the cliff face. So we turned away and followed the ridge to the highway. Then walked down it to the house.
Our neighbor sitting out beside his door, as he always does, saw us return. He asked if we knew about the medieval path that goes right up the rocks to Montefalcone. No, but we’d seen a narrow path up there and described it.
That’s where we headed the next time we set out. When we again faced the limestone abutments of the cliff, we walked off to one side to the much narrower path among the trees.
It was cordoned off, but our neighbor had told us to disregard this. So, gulping a bit at our “don’t trespass” trespassing, I let my walking sticks take me to the other side of the cord.
We started single-file upon the narrow stone path leading up the rocks, atop which stood the town of Montefalcone itself. The path was very steep in places, but good footing throughout. Here were the laid rocks that pilgrims had placed centuries before. And what a fine little path it was! Steady and steep, but sure, to the top. I thought of women and men in the 13th C laying the stones we were walking on. How many feet and how many stories have passed this way? Maybe a Boccaccio was among them, lightening loads or poking pretention with his ribald tales.
Views of the valley below rewarded you at different places along the path and at its switchbacks. There was even a sign pointing out that this was indeed the “sentiero mediovale.” We were subsequently told that this narrow and winding path had also once been used by those living atop the cliff to get their water from the river below. Ugh! What a haul that would have been.
Not too far along this path, we took a right at a turning point (as we’d been told), and a few meters on beheld a tall and narrow shrine built right against the cliff face. As we passed, a nice little shrine beckoned. A simple, small white relief plaque of Maria holding flowers hung above our heads. Below her, a simply wooden sign entreated, Fermati Pellegrini…Stop Pilgrims, as you pass, and salute/greet Maria. Which we willingly did as we continued onward, thankful for those who had made the path and laid the stones so many centuries ago.
This was the path locally known since medieval times. The path continued upward along switchbacks The rocks were well worn into the soil and well placed for foot traffic. I was more and more appreciative as I climbed. Steep in places, but not too steep even for me, reliant on my walking sticks, to manage.
After some suitable huffing and puffing, we reached the very top. At this location stands the Church of St. Michele Archangelo, and you’re in Montefalcone. The first time took us more than an hour to get to the top. But we’ve been back several times since and, once you know the path and have been trekking for a bit, it won’t take more than 45 minutes going slowly but steadily up. But it always feels like you’ve accomplished a great deal.
Medieval revellers during holiday in Montefalcone Appennino |
Mistake. It took us hours to reach home, having taken the wrong road down. The black clouds loomed closer, the thunder began clapping, and I even saw a falcon take flight from a nearby tree. It was getting colder by the moment, but at least no rain… just the constant threat of it. We were lost. Then we were lost and tired. Then we were still lost but numb. We blindly reckoned we’d have to get somewhere we recognized as long as we kept going down.
A nice thing happened. As we walked this unfamiliar territory, a woman was picking cherries high atop a ladder resting on a tree above the road. This was nasty weather, so I suppose she wanted to get them all in before the rains. I waved as I saw her and she called out, asking if we wanted her to drop us come cherries from the tree. Now, cherry happs to be a word in Italian that I’ve known for years. I like its sound: ciliegie (chili-ay-gee-ay). Sure thing. And I thankfully caught two bunches, which we munched along our way. Do you know how especially good juicy cherries can taste when you’re close to despair? We still didn’t know where we were. But how far could it be?
Too numb and cold and tired to be mad at our folly, we finally hit a stretch of road that allowed us another view up at Montefalcone. But this view was from the opposite side of where we’d started! So on we trudged, no words spoken.
When we finally got home (and later retraced our route...by car!), we’d walked more than 10k, a remarkable distance for me in my less than full-bodied state. I imagine that any penance that might have been due had been made.
Today's Painting
Cameo, charcoal painting by Janet Strayer |
At home again, we ate a peach. It’s another of the delicious fruits in season now. This variety, called Pesche Saturnine, is doughnut-shaped but without the hole. It’s a mild yellow-white color inside, sweet and juicy. “Saturn” for colored rings around planet, I assume. It's good.