(Click here to view the photos for today on Google Photos)
I was woken last night by the sound of water running down a drainpipe somewhere. It seemed to be raining fairly solidly, but when I got up in the morning, it was all clear skies with a nice fresh smell to the world. As Arthur sings in Camelot, “the rain must never fall til after sundown; by nine o’clock the morning mists are gone…”
I moved a bit slowly, aiming for an 8:30am start, given that I was beholden to no one for breakfast or my arrival time. I ate left overs from last night, to which I had added the two left over tomatoes and the rest of the cheese to make a thicker sauce. I forgot to mention that when the host called in for payment last night, she instantly commented on the “profumo” from my cooking! I showered and shaved, which I usually don’t do at the start of the day when on pilgrimage, because I wanted to be decent when I arrived at St Peter’s.
I set off back through the centre of La Storta, grabbing a caffè macchiato at the caffè where I got a stamp yesterday. The next 5.5km is all along the Via Cassia and it is 100% awful. Not only is the often no proper footpath on the side of the highway, but also there is rubbish everywhere and dog shit and such to watch out for. I visited La Storta’s church – but it was a game of “hopper” just to get across the road. And an effort to get up the huge flight of stairs. Not only do Italians put their towns on hills, they put their churches on the highest hill in those towns. The crazy thing is that despite the fact that this route feels like it is in the middle of the city – lined on both sides with shops and apartment buildings – it is really just running on the top of a ridge through otherwise open countryside. The people who live at the top of the apartment blocks must have a tremendous view, especially to north. I gather that the reason the VF becomes the Via Cassia here is more than just historical – there are literally no tracks or roads running parallel to the highway, leaving the main road as the only route. There are also practically no signs for the VF on this part of the journey, which leaves you constantly wondering if you have taken a wrong turn somewhere back. I had almost left La Storta before a sticker appeared on a light pole.
Then, soon after leaving La Storta and after crossing the bridge over the interchange with the “Grande Raccordo Anulare” freeway, an official VF sign appears pointing downhill on the south side of the Via Cassia. There is also a sign pointing to in the same direction saying “Le strade dei parchi” (the street of the parks) and “Insugherata”, which translates roughly as “oak groves”. This road goes down and down and down and down till you get to a creek (Tosso dell’Acqua Traversa) at the bottom of the valley and it turns right. (Nb. it crack me up whenever I see a sign saying “dossi artificiali” – indicating *artificial* humps in the road as opposed the real ones!) At the very bottom, there were men working with a couple of big diggers laying what looked like a drain pipe, and ahead of me, it looked for all the world like the VF route was blocked off with fencing around the construction works. I was horrified that I might have to climb up the hill again and take the main street all the way to Rome, but one of the workmen indicated that alternative access to the VF had been opened up through a nearby yard.
Now, at this point, and for the next 4km, the VF becomes something completely different from the first part of the day. The few signs and a picnic table are all dilapidated and broken. Everywhere is weeds. The VF itself becomes what looks to be a goat track – and perhaps it actually is. On both sides of the track is a jungle of blackberry briars and stinging nettles. Don’t try this route without good trousers. Thanks to the rain, the track was not dusty, but in some places there were puddles, and it strikes me that after any amount of rain it could become quite muddy. Above the thorns and thistles, I could still see (sometimes) the apartment buildings along the highway on the ridge above. I thought that the jungle was extensive, but at one point there was a break in the blackberry bushes, and I walked out onto a long paddock, in which there were hay bales recently made. It seems the jungle was more of a hedgerow. I thought about walking in the paddock rather than on the goat track, but the sun had come out and it was incredibly sultry – much cooler among the stinging nettles and overhanging scrub. After about 2km of this, the track shifts south again suddenly and opens up into a valley of pastureland. Literally pasture, because there was a flock of sheep with new born lambs being minded by a “cane da pastore Maremmano-Abruzzese”. Up on the slope of the side of the valley was the shepherd himself, just sitting and letting the dog guide the sheep and lambs. I felt like I had fallen back at least 200 years from when I was walking along the highway less than an hour ago! This whole section is known as the Riserva Naturale dell’Insugherata, and the last part of it, where the sheep were, is known as Macchia di Acquatraverso – the mucky bit (i.e. scrubland) around the Acquatraversa creek. I read later that this area was opened up as a park 10 or 12 years ago, but has been virtually neglected due to a dispute of local property owners. The owners demanded that fences be built between their property and the parkland, with the result that there are two or three actual entrances to the area and few people ever come here. Also, among the wildlife that can be found here are – believe it or not this close to Rome – wild boar. After one final turn towards the east, I came across the first sign that I was in Rome itself: a drain cover with the letters S.P.Q.R. on it – Senatus Populusque Romanus, the Senate and the People of Rome.
Then there are the first buildings at the bottom of a steep road to the top of the Monte Mario Alto. I was out of water at this stage, it was very hot, and so I rejoiced to see a minimart at the top in the piazza/parking lot. I bought a couple of bottles of cold powerade, not knowing where I would find my next drink. As a matter of fact, there was a fountain just in the next block at the top of the Via Giovita Ravizza. Here, for about 1km, the VF follows a main street lined with shops and cafes of all sorts (and a church), down toward the main road, the Via Trionfale. It then follows this main road for about 2km (passing the Universita Cattolica del Sacro Cuore), until finally, on the Via della Camilluccia just past the Giovanni Paolo II centre, it turns down and then up into the Riserva Naturale di Monte Mario, on which the buildings of the original Vatican Observatory are perched. It is from this mountain that the most famous point of the whole Via Francigena pilgrimage is located, the point where you come around the corner from briefly entering (and then leaving again) the Via Trionfale, and the entire vista of Rome opens up before you, including the first view of the pilgrimage destination, St Peter’s Basilica. But the push to get this hill is very strenuous, and the track a little treacherous in places. Again, very poorly maintained on this side of the hill. All that changes once you arrive at the view, and you are in a nice park. I caught a glimpse of the dome of St Peter’s just before getting to the famous viewpoint and knelt down and prayed the Gloria in excelsis. Just after this, Cathy rang, and so was able to share with me, via FaceTime video, the moment of the arriving at the scenic lookout. As is the way thought of all expected “great moments” on a pilgrimage, it was overshadowed by reality, as Cathy told me that the elderly lady we care for had come down with covid and was staying at our place till she recovered. Then my colleagues, Derek and Nathan, texted to say they were at St Peter’s waiting for me, and how much longer would I be. AND I thought I had lost my apple earphones and wasted a lot of effort going back the last 250m or so trying to look for them to no avail (I eventually discovered later that evening that I had stowed them in my shirt pocket). So now I was completely flustered, and raced down the steep wide winding path that descended the other side of the mountain as quickly as I could. This path is paved with very large stones that are uncomfortable for the feet. When I got to the bottom, it was then a matter of getting across the busy roads to the Viale Angelico which leads directly south to Vatican City, 2.5km away.
By now the day was well and truly hot, with a blazing sun overhead. I raced along this, covering the distance in about half an hour, but had to divert to go to the spot where I had precooked online for a fee of €5 (or so I thought) a luggage deposit spot in Via Germanico where I could drop my backpack and be free and unencumbered for my visit to St Peter’s. Being rather flustered, I let the two indian boys behind the counter of the small “hole-in-the-wall” stall use the Luggage Hero app on my phone to book my backpack in. I took with me only my hiking stocks (folded up and slung onto) my bumbag full of valuables (which I wear always around my waist facing forward under my tummy where only I could get to it), and my phone and ipad. Thankfully (as it turned out) they took a picture of the backpack as record of my booking…
Then I hightailed it to the border of Vatican City. There were no checks at the border, as there is when a papal event is on in the Piazza, but there was a very long queue to get into St Peter’s – reaching half the circumference of the square. By this stage, Derek and Nathan had stood in line, gone into the basilica, and then joined the line to go up into the Cupola. I stood with all the other tourists in the blazing sun (I was the only one wearing a wide brimmed hat!), and became drenched in perspiration from the heat and humidity. A text come through from my mother, who was just going to bed at home, and so I rang here on FaceTime video and shared the moment of being in St Peter’s Square with her. After we hung up, and I had waited in line almost half an hour, it occurred to me to find out where I had to go to get my testimonium – the certificate of having completed the pilgrimage (more than 100km of it, anyway). When I discovered the directions on the Via Francigena website (in the cloakroom area at the bottom and to the right of the main stairway into the basilica), I also saw a mobile phone number I could ring for information. I rang this number and the nice man on the other end told me, in good english, to skip the main line and go over to a small gazebo on the northern side nearer the entrance where I would get special admission for my testimonium. There were only about a couple of dozen people at this point, instead of a couple of dozen hundred, but nevertheless it didn’t seem to be going anywhere. This appeared to be specially booked groups of visitors, including priests who had come to celebrate mass with their parties. It seemed that every document was being closely scrutinised and I was beginning to think I’d have been quicker in the main line. Impatiently, I made my way to the front and waved my credential about until I attracted the attendant’s attention, and he waved me on through immediately!
There were two other pilgrims – a couple who spoke english – waiting there as well in the cloakroom area. We greeted each other. I had not met them before, but they said they saw me yesterday on the way. They had come all the way from the Pass over the alps, and so had done the length of Italy to Rome. I was thinking to myself at the same time that I should have just used the luggage stowage at the Vatican instead of leaving my backpack with the Dodgy Brothers and Luggage Hero, when the attendant asked to see my credential, then gave me a form to fill in with all my personal details and reason for doing the pilgrimage. He also gave me a blank testimonium to add my own details, added the final Vatican “il timbro” to my credential, and said “Congratulations” and that was that.
From their texts, I knew that Nathan and Derek were still up on the dome, so once I had gone through security and entered St Peter’s, I immediately went downstairs to the Grotto Vaticano to finish my pilgrimage at the tomb of Peter and at the tomb of Pope Benedict XVI (aka Joseph Ratzinger, 50% of the theological duo on whom I am doing my PhD). Despite the fact that, of all recent popes, he has yet to be canonised, beatified, or even have cause opened for him, I have a very strong devotion to this man who I am convinced will one day be a Doctor of the Church and hence also recognised for the true saint that he was. I felt very privileged to be able to visit his grave so soon after his passing and in the middle of working so intimately with his theological writings and his life’s story. I knelt and prayed there for a while, and then went on to visit the tombs of Benedict XV, Pius XI, Blessed John Paul I, and Saint Paul VI. It was very hot and humid down there, so I gave up my plan to wait for the others to join me there, and followed the crowd outside into the fresh air. It was then that I realised that I couldn’t get back into the Basilica this way. Doubling back, when I got to the stairs leading back up to the main body of St Peter’s, I noticed that it was guarded with a sign saying “no exit”! This was a pickle – all the more so because I had no internet signal down there and could not communicate with my friends. I thought I would just have to sit it out and so parked myself on the floor near Benedict XV’s tomb. After a little while, the guard got up and went away. This was my chance. I waited for a break in the descending tourists and dashed back up the stairs. I had to stand aside for one or two coming down the narrow staircase, but they let me pass, and bingo I was back up.
It was still a bit of a wait before my young colleagues descended from the heavens above me, so I took another look around the Basilica. I had been here three times before, so knew what I was looking for. But I made some other discoveries as well. I visited tombs of Saint John XXIII, Venerable Pius XII, and Saint John Paul II. I then went back to the entrance to the Grotto and into St Joseph’s chapel – where, I was surprised to learn, the relics of Sts Simon and Jude are kept in an urn under the altar. So I added these two the the number of apostles whose relics I had visited, including St Peter, St Paul, St John (well, his burial site anyway…), and St Philip. Then I received a text saying my mates were down and looking for me. A bit of hunting about and I found Derek and Nathan at the high altar. Embraces and greetings followed. It was good not to be on my own anymore. Derek had questions about the basilica and some historical and religious points. They had been in St Peter’s yesterday, but didn’t have a guide. So undertook this duty and explained to them about the tomb of St Peter, the Bernini Baldacchino and Chapel of the Chair, and showed them other interesting features such as the Stuart memorial and the memorial for Queen Kristina of Sweden. Derek and I then prayed the rosary together at St John Paul II’s tomb in the chapel of St Sebastian. We were going to do this downstairs at Pope Benedict’s tomb, but it was too hot down there. Finally we did go downstairs, where again I played tour guide and showed them around, explaining especially the history of the 20th Century popes, and pointing out the remains of the columns of Constantine’s St Peter’s which are toward the exit of the Grotto. As we exited into the northern portico, we saw the brand new statue of St Andrew Kim, the Korean martyr, whose shrine my friend Sean is currently visiting on pilgrimage in Korea. This statue was only added just a couple of weeks ago, and adds a universal flavour to the exterior of St Peter’s.
It was now about six o’clock and so I took my friends around the corner to Borgo Pio, the Lygon Street of the Vatican, for dinner. It was good to share food and drink with these colleagues, although I am afraid I rather took on the role of raconteur, with the result that my gigantic pizza was barely quarter eaten by the time Derek and Nathan had finished their meals. It was good fun anyway. We parted about 7:20, as I had to pick up my backpack from the Dodgy Brothers in Via Germanico. I had had a beer and glass of wine and when I went to get out of my seat, I stumbled a bit as my tired legs had sort of seized up while sitting down for so long. My plan was to collect my luggage, and then get to the Ottaviano train station on the Metro, and take that to the Aurelia station, change to the city train route and take that to Trastevere back to my lodgings where I had left my suitcase last week. This is where things went wobbly again. When I got to the Luggage Hero depot, one of the Indians again filled out things on my app for me and then presented me with the bill: €46.75 (=$77)!!! I was flabbergasted and didn’t know what to do, but they were closing shop and said to take it up with the Luggage Hero people online. There was nothing I could do. I threw the bag on my back and headed for Ottaviano. There things didn’t work with the Metro train ticket machine, which didn’t want to accept either my phone or my credit card for some reason. So I headed to the human being behind the counter and he sold me a ticket for cash that was half the price that machine was trying to sell me. Once I was on the station platform waiting for the train, I was able to initiate the refund request on the Luggage Hero app. I was surprised to find that by the time I got to Aurelia Station, I had a reply: I had booked hourly (instead of daily), and was charged according for my five pieces of luggage (total €20.25), €8.25 Service Fee (??) and €13,25 insurance, PLUS a “tip” of €5 = total €46.75!! You will, of course, have spotted the mistake immediately. I was willing to wear the hourly rather than the day rate, but there was no way I had just completed the five day Via Francigena pilgrimage carrying FIVE pieces of luggage! Thankfully, by the time I got off at Trastevere Roma station, the nice person on the other end had revised my bill and the charge on my credit card to €13.35. I completed the climb up to the top of the hill at Vio Lorenzo Valle, let myself in with the keys Sabrina had given me almost a week ago, lugged by backpack and my suitcase up to the top floor, let myself in and collapsed on the bed.
And so ended the first section of my great adventure. Pilgrimages are like this. My B&B was not home, but it represented a return from the point which I departed last week. I’m glad that Derek and Nathan were able to join me this evening, or it would have felt more anti-climactic than it was. I fully understand why pilgrims who reach Santiago and the tomb of St James continue going until they hit the ocean at Finnesterre. Happily, now the next part of my adventure begins. A rest day or two, then the four day seminar at the ACU campus, then two weeks in Munich, a side detour to Pope Benedict’s birthplace and to the Marian shrine at Altötting (joined by my “godson” Martin), and then on to Regensburg for a week, before a night in Freising (where Ratzinger did his doctorate and habilitation), and then home. I will blog about the Altötting pilgrimage, but not the rest of the trip. I can’t afford three hours of every day writing this. But thank you for joining me on the journey. At some stage, I have to also write up the last two legs of the MacKillop-Woods Way (we’ve made it all the way to Port MacDonnell in South Australia and have only the final leg to Penola to go next year). But that’s it for now.
And always remember: “We are but travellers here” [NOT tourists] – St Mary of the Cross MacKillop.
