tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-78025125664659739822024-03-12T19:43:31.580-07:00AbbeywalksHappea Travellershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16870003987361121743noreply@blogger.comBlogger152125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7802512566465973982.post-43402956947643884042018-02-26T09:55:00.001-08:002018-09-09T02:31:28.906-07:0050 Top Travel Tips <div style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "SF Optimized", system-ui, -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 14px; letter-spacing: -0.11999999731779099px; margin-bottom: 6px;">
Travel tips.</div>
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I was recently made aware of the excellent travel guide written by Jane Rogers - 50 travel tips from my past 10 years of experience travelling to more than 100 countries around the world.</div>
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I know that in the main we are all walking but somehow we have to get to the start of the walk and then we have to travel home. Jane shares some valuable tips and these are the ones that I certainly endorse.</div>
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Booking accommodation:</div>
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There are lots of discussion and questions about booking accommodation in advance and everyone has their own preference. Myself, I like to have at least three or four days accommodation booked in advance and I am now too fussy about where I stay. Pilgrim accommodation (I tend to rely on recommendations), Agroturismos, Bed & Breakfast, Airbnb, Couch Surfing, Camping there is so much to choose from but cost is usually the deciding factor.</div>
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Jane recommends making friends along the way and potentially sharing accommodation costs. I have certainly heard one story about a fellow Pilgrim travelling on the Via Francigena who shared an apartment with three other women. Not only did they have use of a kitchen but a washing machine, a fabulous balcony and oodles of space that worked out to be better value than the Pilgrim accommodation in the town.</div>
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Packing:</div>
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I think that unless you are a mule and have four legs then ideally the weight of your rucksack should be no more than 10% of your body weight and that should be everything that you would walk with, including water and any food that you would have too.</div>
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In my most recent walk, after walking 20km with two very good friends, we stopped for an afternoon snack. We still had focaccia breads that we'd bought that morning which I was carrying. After removing them from my rucksack Claire unfolded a feast before us..."Which one would you like, Rosemary and potato, Cheese and ham, or plain", Claire uttered. "Pardon" I replied. It transpired that there was so much to choose from that Claire had bought three varieties......weighing 200g each. So an extra 600g of weight in my pack and that did not include fruit that had been snuck into the side pouches of my bag either. I was ok with it as I can carry it, but it is surprising how the weight of a bag can suddenly increase without thinking about it.</div>
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Language:</div>
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Try to learn a few simple words and customs of the country, it's surprising how differently people can treat you if you use their language. Don't worry if you pronounce a word wrong or say the wrong thing. I just love the fact that in Italy when you walk into a shop you always say Buongiorno / Buonasera (good morning or good afternoon). The give-away being they know you're a tourist if you don't say it.</div>
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Flying:</div>
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I have fallen foul of this a few times recently with my walking poles. They are an important part of my walking equipment so prefer to have them on board as cabin luggage in a small rucksack, but not all airlines allow that. Check the small print about sports equipment in their FAQ's. I didn't when flying recently and had to return to the baggage drop, have my rucksack shrink wrapped because the poles stuck out of my bag. The total extra cost was €40 which I couldn't have avoided as I'd already handed my large rucksack off at baggage drop earlier.</div>
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Money:</div>
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Always have a contingency and that may be a bank card where the charges are reasonable for withdrawing foreign currency, hiding small amounts in your rucksack (but don't forget it's there), money belts or pre-loaded bank cards.</div>
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Getting sick:</div>
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This is not uncommon when travelling and Jane's article provides some comprehensive advice. In 2015, not long after leaving Aosta I came down with severe food poisoning overnight. After managing to get a few hours sleep I decided to continue walking, but after only one mile it was very clear I was not going to make it to my accommodation that night on foot. I found a bus stop and just took the first bus, heading in the right direction, to the nearest town. I bought a heap of medication to aid my recovery including rehydration salts. I managed to get to my accommodation that night but had to take an extra day off to rest because it literally wiped me off my feet. I was fortunate though that my accommodation was able to add an extra night to my stay and they were very sympathetic and supportive when I informed them that I was not well. </div>
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Listen to your body, if it's saying it's had enough, rest. If it's telling you that it's not feeling 100%, think before you continue to the next point and always make sure you have medical insurance. </div>
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Pass on advice to fellow travellers:</div>
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There are many places to do this and it can make the journey much more fun. Abbeye Notre Dame in France on the Via Francigena was recommended to me and it was one of the most memorable places I've stayed in. Sister Lucy is just so fabulous I wanted to take her home......</div>
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Write about your journey:</div>
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This can be as little or as much as you would like. Keep it to yourself or share with others, but it is always good to look back and read about your journey and if you're like me you will be transported back to relive it again. </div>
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I met a young Pilgrim who was a graphic artist and she recorded every day as a picture with a short caption.</div>
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<span style="color: #5d5d5d; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px; letter-spacing: normal;"><a href="http://www.abbeywalks.co.uk/" style="color: #45c8ff; text-decoration: none;">www.abbeywalks.co.uk</a></span><span style="color: #5d5d5d; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: xx-small; letter-spacing: normal;"> </span></div>
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Happea Travellershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16870003987361121743noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7802512566465973982.post-12087897396886061952018-02-26T09:53:00.001-08:002018-02-26T09:53:25.262-08:00Wet weather jacket alternative - the poncho !<div style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "SF Optimized", system-ui, -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 14px; letter-spacing: -0.11999999731779099px; margin-bottom: 6px;">
Last year whilst walking with my lovely walking companion Claire, we got caught in a big downpour of rain. I think the blog post was titled......10km swim. From Montefiascone to Bolsena it just rained and rained and rained. </div>
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As we were leaving Montefiascone there was a sudden increase of water coming out of the sky and bouncing of the pavements as it landed. At a road junction we paused to let a car pass, but as we stopped it stopped and t<span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; font-family: inherit;">he passenger window by us started to lower. I bobbed down to see through the window and the lovely Italian lady driver uttered something to me and promptly leant over to the back seat, picked up her umbrella and offered it to us.</span></div>
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Grazie, grazie we called and Italian / English we mentioned that we were ok and totally dry. Well we were at the point. That is one of many generous gestures I / we have received as we walked through Italy. A lovely place and such wonderful people.</div>
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That day continued to be a mixture of heavy deluges of rain and some light drizzle but before we entered Bolsena the rain stopped. Once in our accommodation it was time to reflect on the day and assess whether either of us were still dry.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS7kvmjywBY1YDTdoVxvY274mYF2yki5S2w3oB4aeAkG-3hkpw7LWkaiDkrfKqxCCFeXEutmIE5C9FpgHx3O3ctSmfGGbVPYj_P84k4UqRC9PKfCkuKQ21ECMhW51xBkwE-khmCaaCKGZV/s1600/28164768_2028703880731768_2835591130556445841_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS7kvmjywBY1YDTdoVxvY274mYF2yki5S2w3oB4aeAkG-3hkpw7LWkaiDkrfKqxCCFeXEutmIE5C9FpgHx3O3ctSmfGGbVPYj_P84k4UqRC9PKfCkuKQ21ECMhW51xBkwE-khmCaaCKGZV/s320/28164768_2028703880731768_2835591130556445841_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Much to our amazement we were predominantly dry, we'd both worn breathable waterproof trousers and with the exception of the odd spot, they had served us well. The jackets however were a different story, Claire was mostly dry but needed to think of an alternative for future walks. Myself, well I was dry but the day had been very humid so although my jacket was breathable there was still an element of moisture that stayed inside my jacket. I was a wee bit damp but on the whole had kept reasonably dry.</div>
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Below are three Poncho designs that we trialed this year. </div>
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Mine on the left. Pros: The poncho was easy to put on, I found putting the poncho on first and then putting my rucksack on under it was the best way to apply it. The Poncho has its own pocket to live in and becomes a pocket for the wearer. It kept me dry despite the intensity of the rain. With it being a big open space humidity was not a problem so no perspiration when wearing it.</div>
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Cons: Sleeves were too short</div>
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Price - it was donated to me</div>
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Of the three ponchos Sue, in the middle had the best design overall and it can be bought from Decathlon and the make is Quechua mountain trekking rain cape £16. It also comes in its own bag so won't take up too much space in a rucksack.</div>
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I think the next time we walk together we will all have a Quechua rain cape in our bag.</div>
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With a poncho in your bag all you need to add is your waterproof trousers to stay totally dry.....</div>
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<span style="color: #5d5d5d; font-family: helvetica; font-size: 12px; letter-spacing: normal;"><a href="http://www.abbeywalks.co.uk/" style="color: #45c8ff; text-decoration: none;">www.abbeywalks.co.uk</a></span><span style="color: #5d5d5d; font-family: helvetica; font-size: xx-small; letter-spacing: normal;"> </span></div>
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Happea Travellershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16870003987361121743noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7802512566465973982.post-51904933945866600452018-02-22T11:16:00.002-08:002018-02-22T11:16:44.797-08:00St Augustine Way - Bussana Vecchia, Italy - Menton, France<div style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "SF Optimized", system-ui, -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 14px; letter-spacing: -0.11999999731779099px; margin-bottom: 6px;">
Day 17. Bussana Vecchia, Italy to Menton, France 32km<br />Total walked: 379km<br />The final walk day.</div>
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Well today is the last days walk for a few months as I need to return home and earn some money to pay for the final leg....walking through France. At the moment I have self funded all the new Pilgrim walks.</div>
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I have spent a lot of time planning, walking this route virtually at home and editing walk notes which has certainly made this journey much more enjoyable. So yet another good reason to return home.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib6fF31_0OFPXuaSJVxgAA6QJDQ6hVg-GZhZOa0jqXZblSZKwvVgqTsXGNzr1hsr3YaM8_71FlIdLy91mqBDNR05Bba1JuosYSnqM9K2SFChvVC9hchyc6OHBKDmjHTY96SKBmNHHl9MkB/s1600/28337368_2027758850826271_5346545835736105172_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1194" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib6fF31_0OFPXuaSJVxgAA6QJDQ6hVg-GZhZOa0jqXZblSZKwvVgqTsXGNzr1hsr3YaM8_71FlIdLy91mqBDNR05Bba1JuosYSnqM9K2SFChvVC9hchyc6OHBKDmjHTY96SKBmNHHl9MkB/s320/28337368_2027758850826271_5346545835736105172_o.jpg" width="238" /></a>I woke early with the room still bathed in darkness and was heading out of the village just as the first crack of daylight was creeping into the sky. There was not a soul around as I wound my way through the narrow streets, not even a bird or cat to disturb the deafening silence.</div>
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The path down from the village is one of the original routes and in parts it had deep gouged channels, steep, slippy stones, overgrown in sections and basically just a nightmare to walk on. At the bottom and safely on the road I really did feel like kissing the tarmac in relief at arriving.</div>
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Ahead of me I had a day of ups and downs again, but this time more like pimples as opposed to mountains, with the maximum altitude to gain.....a dizzying 70m!</div>
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I negotiated my way to the outskirts of Sanremo after a breathtakingly beautiful descent from Poggio. The whole of that journey providing me with enviable views across the sea. At the old railway line once more I followed it into town. Despite the path clearly being marked one side for pedestrians and one side for cyclists, most people using it had other ideas. I bobbed and weaved my way along trying to avoid hot sweaty runners of all shapes and sizes. Cyclists zooming along in their attempts to break through the sound barrier. Dog walkers with their leads stretched across the path, blissfully ignorant of their dog squatting. After several days of relative peace and quiet behind me it looked like today was going to be filled with a cacophony of sound, smell and general irritation.</div>
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In the centre of Sanremo I slowed my pace not only because of the amount of people, but also to get the feeling of what the music festival was about. Along the main street there were several radio stations interviewing people, some were just talking others singing away, I have to say not always in tune, as if they were on X factor. What is it with everyone wanting to be just famous these days? The main Piazza was transformed into a heady mixture of mobile radio studios, stages, food and drink vendors, entertainment stalls. I'm sure everyone was having a good time, but just now it was not for me. I quickened my pace and left it behind me.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG09E5GVfTLd1QedJ6FWseyURml7bM4Ul_mYK5o2GBlql2RkcvdjfNgSmhGR6naGRknk0wDMXy6dz4Z-1uMzecLB8-DmhGRftlo9xBPAYDihqTOsrqJItHI-YFYjbhGala8_xgyQSw0bSV/s1600/28161638_2027759220826234_5036646273237457495_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG09E5GVfTLd1QedJ6FWseyURml7bM4Ul_mYK5o2GBlql2RkcvdjfNgSmhGR6naGRknk0wDMXy6dz4Z-1uMzecLB8-DmhGRftlo9xBPAYDihqTOsrqJItHI-YFYjbhGala8_xgyQSw0bSV/s320/28161638_2027759220826234_5036646273237457495_o.jpg" width="320" /></a>Back on the old railway line again I was soon bobbing and weaving along as swarms of people were heading the opposite way to me and into town. The day continued to be uneventful as I followed the coastline through Ospedaletti, Bordighera and Vallecrosia. Yes there were some fine views, ahead and behind me as I passed round the bays but in the main it was just monotonous unfortunately. On reflection I have to admit that I really can't remember much about that part of the day, just walking on the pavement by the side of a smelly main road, passing almost seamlessly from one town into the next. Lost in my own thoughts and dreams.</div>
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Mid afternoon was totally different and after leaving modern Ventimiglia and ascending into the old town my mood picked up. The town was originally called Albium Intemelium and goes back to the Quaternary period 2.58-0 million years ago. Today the main evidence is from the Roman period with examples from the 2nd century including the Roman Amphitheatre on the outskirts of town.</div>
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My walk notes directed me into the Cathedral of St Micheal and it was not a disappointment. The church was built in the 10th century on top of a pagan temple and then entrusted to the Benedictines. In the 11-12th century it was rebuilt in a Romanesque style. The original 11th century baptistry survives with a huge font in the centre of the room. Its presence make a bold statement about its importance and beauty. After paying my respects and saying thank you for a safe journey, I walked out of the church door.</div>
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The old town is not very big and after walking through the old gateway, Porta Del Fontanin, I was once more travelling uneventfully along the main road for the final 6km to the border and into France.</div>
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It was 4pm now and after walking most of the day without any real pause for a rest, I made my way straight to the hotel to drop my bag off.</div>
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Whilst sat in a bar by the sea, drinking a beer, I completed the final video blog I'd been making for the last two days. In it I reflected on the last three weeks and I introduced my permanent travel companion, Wee Man.</div>
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The Via della Costa is not a well walked path, in part because of the challenging terrain but also as there are some stages that just walk along the main road, through the trappings of modern civilisation including its noise, smell and concrete jungle. Myself I have viewed it as a means to an end.</div>
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These 17 days and 379km have completed stage two of my journey from Rome and the new pilgrim walk, The St Augustine Way - A Gregorian Mission. Sometime this year (2018) I hope to complete the final leg that will take me from Menton on the Via Aurelia footpath to Arles. From there I will create a footpath link through all the places that St Augustine stopped at enroute to Canterbury and the first Augustinian Abbey in England.</div>
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In 2019 the route will be complete for others to follow should they wish and just maybe I'll complete it then as one complete walk!</div>
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I hope you've enjoyed walking the Via della Costa with me, thank you for reading about my adventure.</div>
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<span style="color: #5d5d5d; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;"><a href="http://www.abbeywalks.co.uk/" style="color: #45c8ff; text-decoration: none;">www.abbeywalks.co.uk</a></span><span style="color: #5d5d5d; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: xx-small;"> </span><br />
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Happea Travellershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16870003987361121743noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7802512566465973982.post-57253199255581237882018-02-20T09:49:00.002-08:002018-02-22T11:10:42.446-08:00St Augustine Way - Torrazza to Bussana Vecchia, Italy<div style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "SF Optimized", system-ui, -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 14px; letter-spacing: -0.11999999731779099px; margin-bottom: 6px;">
Day 16. Torrazza to Bussana Vecchia 25km<br />
Total walked: 347km</div>
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After a super evening meal I was intrigued as to what breakfast would be like.....would it be just a brown breakfast of stale bread, shop bought chemically injected fruit tart etc? Non!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRa9jejnPUoG4IGz5aWooM9TGTE2Xb_Dg0KFRe4EvMXLJinlp1g4eOIMStt_gUFYBuhyphenhyphen06uROJ0vpqniDX25o2nVWkfWkIiy3hJnBZMyXKKgiOOwtvu-oyq_H_TD8CYhuQYdb5ZE977pHD/s1600/28060848_2027248617543961_1399390696596764966_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRa9jejnPUoG4IGz5aWooM9TGTE2Xb_Dg0KFRe4EvMXLJinlp1g4eOIMStt_gUFYBuhyphenhyphen06uROJ0vpqniDX25o2nVWkfWkIiy3hJnBZMyXKKgiOOwtvu-oyq_H_TD8CYhuQYdb5ZE977pHD/s320/28060848_2027248617543961_1399390696596764966_o.jpg" width="320" /></a>Breakfast was another gastronomic feast of delights. All the tables were laid for breakfast so I was unsure if there were ever any other guests. My buffet breakfast consisted of, fresh fruit juices, fresh fruit salads, fresh breads, pancakes, a meat and cheese platter. Fresh fruit bowl and copious amounts of scrummmy home made cakes to choose from and as much coffee as I could drink.....Burp!</div>
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I filled my boots and after settling my bill, was invited to help myself of goodies for my walk. I was close to the coast which meant that once again I had a number ascents and descents ahead of me. I was hoping to end the day at Sanremo but there was a music festival on and almost every bed had already been taken. Well I could have paid of €150+ but I am not that rich. I had found an Airbnb apartment in Bussana so that was were I was heading.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWeHxfk7EQxUsa6SplMKjQl_5vLVDULNxUsUrfRRQUvLQmVbNCFM4847WLnSt1TpgtEZD4e98fMMOCFM7SOsOI_AsUqgHhlNSrgOajZOTfMRnkUdDXpdJ4ig72_HrVG-q0mRqzWWGjE9uw/s1600/28071041_2027247424210747_3052361764015127061_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWeHxfk7EQxUsa6SplMKjQl_5vLVDULNxUsUrfRRQUvLQmVbNCFM4847WLnSt1TpgtEZD4e98fMMOCFM7SOsOI_AsUqgHhlNSrgOajZOTfMRnkUdDXpdJ4ig72_HrVG-q0mRqzWWGjE9uw/s320/28071041_2027247424210747_3052361764015127061_o.jpg" width="320" /></a>My first climb took me first past the medieval tower that sits above Torrazza and then after weaving around the hillside to the chapel of Madonna della Grazie (Our Lady of Graces). I paused to top up my water and admired the views back to where I had come from. It was going to be another humid fine day I mused to myself.</div>
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After descending to an old watermill, now a restored family home, I was quickly making my second ascent of the day. Initially it was a bit steep but once I was back on a road it was just a slow steady 4km walk up to the medieval fortress village Lingueglietta. The fortress being built to protect the village but now just a ruin. It turned out to be a sleepy place, with not a soul around as I passed along the narrow street lined with pastel coloured houses. One quick blink and I was heading out of the other side and continuing to climb a further 230m to reach the highest point of the days walk.</div>
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At the top I was met by the familiar ringing sound of bells that animals wear and the call of a shepherd as he moved his flock through the scrubby hill. His dog came over to say hello and received a short, sharp reprimand.......we both ignored the shepherd and got on with getting to know each other. Eventually I shooed him away and I got on with my walk, not knowing which direction had the finest view so constantly look around me.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoumcyHIDhfeur2QgnmBRbC46JM8F45eoYt1-639Hqr3hgPznJNSklQGfJCVUwFs4XjWsKhvc9KJ2thOkIY2PbwJxbYfnQGMhFhwOlUc7X3k1pPwpgUKXMdYuBwZKPCwyZ5xz9NTZh3pWY/s1600/27993813_2027247750877381_7419405637320386597_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoumcyHIDhfeur2QgnmBRbC46JM8F45eoYt1-639Hqr3hgPznJNSklQGfJCVUwFs4XjWsKhvc9KJ2thOkIY2PbwJxbYfnQGMhFhwOlUc7X3k1pPwpgUKXMdYuBwZKPCwyZ5xz9NTZh3pWY/s320/27993813_2027247750877381_7419405637320386597_o.jpg" width="320" /></a>Once more on a road, my progress quickened as I made the long slow descent down to Castello and past the newly built 4 star golf course. From above, for me it looked totally uninviting with the motorway hurtling past one side and the uniformly shaped houses sitting so close to each other they almost blurred into one......mmm definitely not for me and some would say that chasing a small white ball .....is a waste of a good walk!</div>
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In what was once the Roman settlement of Tavia, now Taggia I crossed the medieval 16 arch bridge over the river into the old town and out of the other side into the modern trappings of suburbia. </div>
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As I was going to be in an apartment that night I had decided to cook my own meal this meant carrying food in as I was not aware of any shops in Bussena. At the Trony shopping centre, which sold everything but food, I switched my GPS to locate a food store. Lidl, it replied, 600m, that will do nicely. I changed direction and took the small detour to the supermarket and stocked up with food for the evening. Now I don't know about you, but it's the simple things that I miss when I'm away.....like egg n chips. With supplies bought I returned to my path and the final ascent.</div>
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The route took me past and I quote my notes "past a colony", which turned out to be a large industrial house / factory. I have to admit that on occasions I have been nervous travelling in some places. This is due in the main to the amount of migrants that are now displaced in Italy and in some place in large numbers. Areas like the "colony" are perfect places that are large enough for them to stay without fear of being disturbed. I quickly passed by making as little noise as I could but did not see anyone. </div>
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As I approached the top of the hill and Bussena, Bob Marley was singing his head off. This turned out to come from a garden cabin with its two elderly occupants singing away to the songs too, totally oblivious to me. Obviously stoned!</div>
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I had walked through Bussana virtually from my home office and knew there were two ruined churches and a maze of small narrow streets, like a bowl of spaghetti. In truth it turned out to be so much more and another one of Italy's gems.</div>
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The village had previously suffered from a major earthquake, hence the two ruined churches and all the occupants moved to a village at the bottom of the hill. In the 1960's local artists started to occupy and renovate some of the houses and so the repopulation began. It is now home to some of those same artists and musicians with a wealth of craft shops and studios to buy products from. There is even a resident jazz club.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8P9JyWpNx7bhTqjqu8qrXtSBlMN1HFdLSbyRaPaUz-XueVyQz8m0prL7rDv2-kDatMNhS_r9GAuPdEZWDR2bvSUFW5KvJc2qBAZI8yhAAWBQ-CeT15VYouW38x9piq9fOwFp-TzfsJR76/s1600/28336718_2027247594210730_6748819489262950277_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8P9JyWpNx7bhTqjqu8qrXtSBlMN1HFdLSbyRaPaUz-XueVyQz8m0prL7rDv2-kDatMNhS_r9GAuPdEZWDR2bvSUFW5KvJc2qBAZI8yhAAWBQ-CeT15VYouW38x9piq9fOwFp-TzfsJR76/s320/28336718_2027247594210730_6748819489262950277_o.jpg" width="320" /></a>As I sat at a small cafe there were plenty of tourists mooching around. With my beer drunk and feeling rested I went in search of my room for the night. It turned out to be one of the former settlers, and Englishman and his son who were letting one floor of their house out. </div>
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The room was simple, comfy and with the aid of a portable gas fire, sufficiently warm enough. That night I settled down for my posh egg n oven roasted chips, washed down with a fine red wine.......heaven!</div>
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<span style="color: #5d5d5d; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;"><a href="http://www.abbeywalks.co.uk/" style="color: #45c8ff; text-decoration: none;">www.abbeywalks.co.uk</a></span><span style="color: #5d5d5d; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: xx-small;"> </span><br />
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Happea Travellershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16870003987361121743noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7802512566465973982.post-88921753134851095292018-02-20T09:43:00.002-08:002018-02-20T09:43:51.649-08:00St Augustine Way - Torrazza, Italy<div style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "SF Optimized", system-ui, -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 14px; letter-spacing: -0.11999999731779099px; margin-bottom: 6px;">
Day 15. Evening time</div>
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I'd made enquires about restaurants in Torrazza and was informed, as there were none, my host would provide a meal for €15. When I checked in, I confirmed this and was told in Italian what to do and where to go. Roughly translated into English............I didn't have a clue, but basically I believe I was to go downstairs and outside, down the passageway and then who knows what? All clear!</div>
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So after completing all my chores including writing a blog, at 7.3<span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; font-family: inherit;">0pm I ventured out of my room and hesitated at the top of the stairs. Decision made to continue the bottom door opened and an Italian man called, "Tony"........"Si" I replied. Oh, come on down lad, grab yourself a pint glass and a bottle of wine as you pass and I'll take you to your table. Well I'm sure he said that in Italian.</span></div>
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He proceed to take me into the downstairs room with a beautiful brick vaulted ceiling and down a small spiral staircase into the dining room. This was also resplendent in it's original style but tastefully modernised. After being sat down and provided with a bottle of local wine to help myself, I decided to have a sneaky peak around the lower ground floor. It transpired that the original instructions I had been given were correct as there was a large door in the room leading to the outside. I'm guessing that this was the preferred route for guests to take to avoid the very narrow spiral staircase. In one corner room a small kitchen preparation area and the other a small storage room, but all rooms open plan. I'm guessing that at one time this may have been a cellar or a place that the animals / chickens may have lived.</div>
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I'd informed my host that I was vegetarian and my meal turned out to be one of the tastiest home cooked meals provided in a non restaurant. </div>
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Antipasta (starter) Home made Ligurian vegetable soup with a variety of fresh non white breads.<br />Primo (first plate) A selection of four cheeses and finely sliced roasted root vegetables. Home made tomato Foccacia bread and boiled eggs as side dishes to choose from. With more wine.<br />Secondi (second plate) Home made fruit sponge and a fruit basket to help myself. Oh.....more wine</div>
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I have to admit I ate the lot and retired to my room, waddling and weaving up the stairs as I went.</div>
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If you are in the area, I would not hesitate in recommending Dal Patriarca www.dalpatriarcabb.it</div>
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<span style="color: #5d5d5d; font-family: helvetica; font-size: 12px; letter-spacing: normal;"><a href="http://www.abbeywalks.co.uk/" style="color: #45c8ff; text-decoration: none;">www.abbeywalks.co.uk</a></span><span style="color: #5d5d5d; font-family: helvetica; font-size: xx-small; letter-spacing: normal;"> </span></div>
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Happea Travellershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16870003987361121743noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7802512566465973982.post-71358859366669528882018-02-20T09:41:00.002-08:002018-02-20T09:41:33.129-08:00St Augustine Way - Diano Marina to Torrazza, Italy<div style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "SF Optimized", system-ui, -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 14px; letter-spacing: -0.11999999731779099px; margin-bottom: 6px;">
Day 15. Diano Marina to Torrazza 18km<br />Total walked: 322km</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig9q51cpg9h9X04CyFw7207lc9T-8_bPpEHyStwOeQ9C8EimRcPBDZBzcLeojnzMmjjf_8LxoDYRVJoyf7yFF28DA2IQTgjPdrMgVFJcw3dAc2Vg7Qp6NIOsJza5Mw6alFpdviDOHIoau1/s1600/27993008_2026146050987551_3856502854110482483_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1194" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig9q51cpg9h9X04CyFw7207lc9T-8_bPpEHyStwOeQ9C8EimRcPBDZBzcLeojnzMmjjf_8LxoDYRVJoyf7yFF28DA2IQTgjPdrMgVFJcw3dAc2Vg7Qp6NIOsJza5Mw6alFpdviDOHIoau1/s320/27993008_2026146050987551_3856502854110482483_o.jpg" width="238" /></a>A cooler morning today and a later start due to breakfast only available from 8am. Ahead of me were three reasonable climbs but thankfully nothing that didn't look too strenuous.</div>
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I returned to where I'd left off and aside from the few bits of fruit I was carrying, omitted to buy anything else, this turned out to be a bit of a mistake. I'd also taken to prefer to get water from the drinking fountains rather than use water from the hotel taps.....again another small error on my part. But I guess a lesson learnt is one that is not usually forgotten.</div>
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Soon I was leaving the sprawling but very quiet town streets and heading along cobbled paths, tarmac roads and hillsides littered with olive groves to pass through the three medieval villages of Diano Calderina, Diano Serreta (my water stop) and Diano Gorleri. The latter being where I summited the first hill at 210m, with extensive views across the Gulf of Diano Marina.</div>
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What goes up must come down and I descended into Sacra Famiglia which is a small suburb of the coastal town of Imperia. As I walked along the streets in my own little world and elderly man approached me and uttered something I did not understand but I politely uttered Buongiorno........ He proceeded to repeat what he'd just said and pointed at a large pile of wooden pallets on the floor and then at his three wheeled truck, a Piaggio Ape. </div>
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"Oh, you want hand with those," I replied in English. So with my rucksack still on my back we proceeded to lift 4 large wooden pallets onto the back of his truck...."Grazie, grazie, Buon viaggio (thank you, thank you, good journey)", he replied once the task had been completed. I'm sure I saw the truck springs actively groan</div>
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The Ape's are fascinating and I would love one. They are the commercial workhorse for most Italians. They have motor cycle style handlebars and an enclosed cab that has either one or two seats with a 175cc engine. They are seen everywhere. I will dig out a photo of one that I came across two years ago, owned by a young boy racer of about 16 near Aosta and add it to this blog......</div>
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My good deed completed, I omitted to take the opportunity of buying food from the Pane (bread shop) before I left town. Once across the Impero river which separates modern Imperia and Oneglia which is possibly a pre-roman settlement, I started to climb the second hill of the day.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiotoV1N2HCBJANqqYwCVre9hQYn_Z_hyZ7CfyAIO2Oa0UDwEXA49bHIrza_9_pBKFFVq9tXPzBQxgKX4qADW0BCUpQwrvzINhTl5PDTzCdVn5g0A0Wjva8dZUCe7tkEvEhO9WFk0vbyEj/s1600/27982806_2026145294320960_7640670875496134461_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiotoV1N2HCBJANqqYwCVre9hQYn_Z_hyZ7CfyAIO2Oa0UDwEXA49bHIrza_9_pBKFFVq9tXPzBQxgKX4qADW0BCUpQwrvzINhTl5PDTzCdVn5g0A0Wjva8dZUCe7tkEvEhO9WFk0vbyEj/s320/27982806_2026145294320960_7640670875496134461_o.jpg" width="320" /></a>After a 2km slog on steep uneven steps, more tarmac and an old mule track, I was hot and sticky in the humid air. Finally I reached Bardellini Hill from there I had unobtrusive views of the valley of Imperia Porto Maurizio. I turned right on the road and over the course of about 2.5km my journey was a mixture of very short but steep uphills and then a quick descent, a bit like a rollercoaster but without the car. Eventually I started to descend, all the time continuing to pass between acres and acres of olive groves, occasionally dressed with large colourful nets draped between their trunks to collect the precious fruits before being turned into olive oil. At this time of year there is the occasional buzz of pruning or the crackle and wisps of smoke rising above the orchards as the debris is burnt. A lovely sound and smell.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxV_MCwKCP5bbCXDYQcXc2PzPq1XciVz7ZQnunG2YMJjoDuwXn2PZtFDxunStMSqxypXAp-or2fTY0kDgHMUcphvSlscnwS-75k9VdMxNaNDEdC5ShPde-YyfkMcsp_p-_ROudm0JdViu8/s1600/28061385_2026145680987588_8799115535176429563_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxV_MCwKCP5bbCXDYQcXc2PzPq1XciVz7ZQnunG2YMJjoDuwXn2PZtFDxunStMSqxypXAp-or2fTY0kDgHMUcphvSlscnwS-75k9VdMxNaNDEdC5ShPde-YyfkMcsp_p-_ROudm0JdViu8/s320/28061385_2026145680987588_8799115535176429563_o.jpg" width="320" /></a>At the Sanctuary of Montegrazia I chose to take a bit more of a rest and starting to feel hungry topped up my energy supplies with the aid of a very tasty banana, whilst sat on the doorstep of a closed restaurant. The church (The Grace's Sanctuary) was closed unfortunately which was a shame as parts of it are 14th century and it is known as one of the most beautiful monuments of Liguria. </div>
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I eventually continued on my way through the olive groves on yet another old mule track, occasionally interspersed with steps to arrive at the ancient village of Caramagna. Now much more modern, a holiday hotspot and complete with its own olive oil factory. </div>
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At the edge of the village I had my first dog experience and one I would prefer not to repeat. I was unsure which direction the path was and hesitated by a house fence. No sooner had I stopped when two extremely vicious looking dogs leapt out of nowhere and proceeded to hurl themselves at the fence. Now not wishing to become dog food I quickly started to move and using my GPS tried to identify the correct direction. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZNQYg9sdtoHYI8bhx9Bme2INdhIEmIRLirbTmkgM0yp6KC6KnNONtMIMH72VgGDCJl5lteNYsfANjim79MdkcTqKhoMYDiiV6-nRGLePqtZIJoAqzSpc7gDSnuz9qPQIQbsH8HcQnXKBk/s1600/28336083_2026146164320873_3563505942859902860_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1194" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZNQYg9sdtoHYI8bhx9Bme2INdhIEmIRLirbTmkgM0yp6KC6KnNONtMIMH72VgGDCJl5lteNYsfANjim79MdkcTqKhoMYDiiV6-nRGLePqtZIJoAqzSpc7gDSnuz9qPQIQbsH8HcQnXKBk/s320/28336083_2026146164320873_3563505942859902860_o.jpg" width="238" /></a>I made a turn to get back on the correct path and then looked forward and there in front of me was one of those viscous dogs.....parp! I think I may have uttered from somewhere behind me. I froze and just looked at it for what seemed and age trying to think how do I get out of this.......alive?</div>
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A car suddenly appeared from nowhere, screeched to a halt and a man shot out of the drivers seat towards me shouting scusi, scusi (sorry, sorry). He pushed the dog out of the way and off the path and as it turned, booted it up the bottom. It whimpered away thankfully. Now I don't like to see animals mistreated but I was grateful that he'd come to my rescue.</div>
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With my knees still knocking I continued the final few kilometres in relative peace. Once more on an old pathway to pass the 12th century Oratory of San Martino in Clavi and then across a medieval bridge before my final ascent to Torrazzo.</div>
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I had been hoping to finish the days walk in San Remo but there was obviously something taking place because everywhere was booked up in and around the coastal town. I had managed to find a bed and breakfast though in Torrazzo.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgreUfELSdnL166PuaALmaHC_6wFEyHMPOFPjaqEQsAVaxnsARkx8Wy_977NaiRnxDHqJWjJBCW_ZTJEaBQ3-_Ywo790PlAI0RpSW7NmoZ_Xu1Pyg9AQdFK3wmu5fNZKLsbMJ5qMIC6Kq9p/s1600/27993003_2026147637654059_2310255869518515362_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgreUfELSdnL166PuaALmaHC_6wFEyHMPOFPjaqEQsAVaxnsARkx8Wy_977NaiRnxDHqJWjJBCW_ZTJEaBQ3-_Ywo790PlAI0RpSW7NmoZ_Xu1Pyg9AQdFK3wmu5fNZKLsbMJ5qMIC6Kq9p/s320/27993003_2026147637654059_2310255869518515362_o.jpg" width="320" /></a>I'd arrived earlier than I'd expected to and informed the owners, so I sat in the sun in the Piazza and started writing up my walk notes. I was a bit hungry now so I fished out my last spare energy bar, took my boots off and put my feet up and got on with some work.</div>
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An hour later and starting to get a bit coo,l I called the bed and breakfast to say I'd arrived. Within 5 minutes someone came and I was swept into the house and up the stairs. My room turned out to be in the old tower and what a treat I was in for. Not only was it exquisitely and sensitively decorated, it was warm and cosy, and I had a balcony with a view all the way back from where I had come from....across the hills and the villages to the Ligurian sea. I just sat on the bed and drank it all in, unable to move.</div>
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Happea Travellershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16870003987361121743noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7802512566465973982.post-77873368677263668042018-02-15T11:40:00.002-08:002018-02-15T11:40:26.750-08:00St Augustine Way - Alassio to Diano Marina, Italy<div style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "SF Optimized", system-ui, -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 14px; letter-spacing: -0.11999999731779099px; margin-bottom: 6px;">
Day 14. Alassio to Diano Marina 22km</div>
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<br />Total walked: 304km</div>
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I woke early and after a reasonable breakfast I returned to where I had walked off the path the previous day. It was a cool morning but with only a few large fluffy clouds it looked like it was going to be a fine day.</div>
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Ahead of me were two fairly strenuous climbs before a few kilometres of flat walking to the coast for the evening.</div>
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I meandered through the finally streets of Alassio before ascending 370m over 1.5km past the ruined 17th C church of St Bernard, it was slow going and it was warm despite being the first part of the day. At the top the whole of the Gulf of Alassio on one side, the Andora valley on the other and the Maritime Alps too unfolded all around me....I could have stayed there all day just drinking it in. The Alps looked as though someone had dusted them with icing sugar overnight. As I walked the ridge I could not help looking all around me not knowing where to look next.</div>
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Colla Micheri was the first Ligurian village I came across, blink too long and you'd pass through it. It's a sleepy place with a miss mash of higgledy piggledy narrow streets that you never see the end of. Each one showing something magical of the history, windows, old doorways, blocked in windows, ruined ground floor rooms where the animals once lived. The Via Julius Augustus Roman road 13 AD passes through it and it was where Pope Pius VII passed through whilst returning from his French exile. </div>
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More recently the village became famous thanks to Heyerdal Thor, the famous Norwegian explorer and navigator who died on 18 April 2002. After travelling the world far and wide, he decided to spend his old age there because of the beauty of the location, the position and climate. His tomb is located under the sixteenth-century Saracen tower. With its dominant position over the sea and its circular shape it could have possibly been a windmill in the past. </div>
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I continued out of the village on the cobbled path of the Via Julius Augustus, narrow, steep but beautiful in its own presence. Past a large 13th / 14th century medieval water fountain before being privileged to walk on the 100m 10 arch Roman Bridge into what was once the Roman village of Andora. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwF-TB1-hjcH2sFY0DHzxxiLmGtrTdzgKgXxB5QKz3jEWBOxcfAn18eYxLUpmjNa9mhymeecfzJTSwlCDIlP9OHRrjUshfxjU0F8ZanOCb6sHrfO8tbBrLlwVdSaXCQ3mmpp2KOFc4x0-B/s1600/27993001_2024455194489970_2083995083129707063_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwF-TB1-hjcH2sFY0DHzxxiLmGtrTdzgKgXxB5QKz3jEWBOxcfAn18eYxLUpmjNa9mhymeecfzJTSwlCDIlP9OHRrjUshfxjU0F8ZanOCb6sHrfO8tbBrLlwVdSaXCQ3mmpp2KOFc4x0-B/s320/27993001_2024455194489970_2083995083129707063_o.jpg" width="320" /></a>After digesting the historical mornings walk my second climb of the day took me up 380m through the lush vegetation again resplendent with oaks, holm oaks, the sweet smell of pine trees, thyme and broom. Once again I travelled along wide sections of medieval pavements that depicts the importance of the route between the valley of Andora and the Dianese valley.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgohSTThAbVTW9eI4Sa7i9KNkQDWFiIwecTrQloVBYSiXgyxA8aUrROa3XTf7Enh06a1T5Ni_RhBAUMtdTFruBE2KT5ATzlZ9ZMMVno-HcGtyB95XhtsIsrS8Svetsda1V-QDm4jMbHnsip/s1600/27993785_2024452937823529_9210224866581842927_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgohSTThAbVTW9eI4Sa7i9KNkQDWFiIwecTrQloVBYSiXgyxA8aUrROa3XTf7Enh06a1T5Ni_RhBAUMtdTFruBE2KT5ATzlZ9ZMMVno-HcGtyB95XhtsIsrS8Svetsda1V-QDm4jMbHnsip/s320/27993785_2024452937823529_9210224866581842927_o.jpg" width="320" /></a>At the top I followed the ridge and slowly descended down to Cervo and what was once a Roman stopping point (2BC) on the Roman road of the Via Aurelia. A road I will be following once I have completed this second part of my walk from Rome. Cervo is now regular voted as one of the most prettiest coastal villages on the Italian Riviera, once you've seen it you will understand why.</div>
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I was now back at sea level and the day was hot and humid and as I was off the ridge now so I was soon getting back to walking in my t-shirt once again......oh I do have my trousers on too!</div>
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The final leg of the day saw me walking past large glass houses again, shimmering in the sunlight. In some sections the land is covered in carpets of black and passing by one such section I took a sneaky peek. Underneath there was a wealth of small green shrubs with what looked like red berries. I'm not sure what they are so if anyone does know please tell me.</div>
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At the ripe old age of 29 (well that's writers license for not telling the truth) I have started to rely on responding to my inner gut feelings and today was no exception. As I plodded along the road, late in the afternoon I thought that I'd either missed my turn off to my hotel or I was pretty close. I paused by the side of the road and using my Garmin tried to locate my hotel.............900m it replied!</div>
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With a renewed spring in my step I changed my course an pootled off to my abode for the night - 4pm and a perfect time to end the day.</div>
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<span style="color: #5d5d5d; font-family: helvetica; font-size: 12px; letter-spacing: normal;"><a href="http://www.abbeywalks.co.uk/" style="color: #45c8ff; text-decoration: none;">www.abbeywalks.co.uk</a></span><span style="color: #5d5d5d; font-family: helvetica; font-size: xx-small; letter-spacing: normal;"> </span></div>
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Happea Travellershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16870003987361121743noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7802512566465973982.post-90625559904548577502018-02-15T11:32:00.000-08:002018-02-15T11:32:03.055-08:00St Augustine Way - Just a fine evening, Italy<div style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "SF Optimized", system-ui, -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 14px; letter-spacing: -0.11999999731779099px; margin-bottom: 6px;">
Day 13. Just a fine evening</div>
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After I arrived in the hotel, I was soon back in my own little world and routine - washing clothes, washing me, resting, finding somewhere to eat, planning the next days walk, writing.</div>
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My top tip for eating in Italy is to firstly try to find a local Osteria. These are usually family owned, if you are really lucky Mama is the cook and they don't charge a Coperto....effectively a sit down fee / cover charge. Claire and I have found that sometimes in <span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; font-family: inherit;">the bigger cities they still charge, the details have to be printed on the menu. So if it's not there, there's no charge. Sometimes they will add water and bread to the charge too, again printed on the menu.</span></div>
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This evening I found and Osteria only 5 minutes walk from the hotel, it had good Tripadvisor reviews and it catered for vegetarians.... I always eat about 7pm when travelling so I'm usually first in a restaurant but tonight was different as there were already a handful of guests.....always a good sign.</div>
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I was greeted warmly and shown to my table and whilst listening / watching 70's classic music on a large screen, I chose my food and drinks. Yes it sounds strange to have a large screen in a restaurant showing music. But I have to admit there were quite a few that I'd not heard in a long time but they were oh so familiar... It turned out that this was in fact also a live music venue. Whilst waiting for my meal a few musicians arrived including someone with a Saxophone........now I have to admit I love a good Sax.</div>
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Half way through my meal the band struck up. Initially I was disappointed that the 70's music had stopped, but with Italian folky toe tapping music being played, I have to admit I did stretch my meal out......and had a pudding too.</div>
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The band turned out to be very good indeed and the Saxophone was not disappointing but unfortunately with another reasonable day ahead of me in the morning I had to leave. </div>
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I dreamily made my way back to the hotel and was soon tucked up and in la la land...........</div>
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<span style="color: #5d5d5d; font-family: helvetica; font-size: 12px; letter-spacing: normal;"><a href="http://www.abbeywalks.co.uk/" style="color: #45c8ff; text-decoration: none;">www.abbeywalks.co.uk</a></span><span style="color: #5d5d5d; font-family: helvetica; font-size: xx-small; letter-spacing: normal;"> </span></div>
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Happea Travellershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16870003987361121743noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7802512566465973982.post-60525411387200991392018-02-11T10:12:00.002-08:002018-02-11T10:12:14.938-08:00St Augustine Way - Noli to Pietra Ligure, Italy<div style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "SF Optimized", system-ui, -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 14px; letter-spacing: -0.11999999731779099px; margin-bottom: 6px;">
Day 12. Noli to Pietra Ligure 24km</div>
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Total walked: 255km</div>
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Well every story has to have an ending and this is the last day with Claire and Sue. We were up with the larks and we'd secured free breakfast in the bar because our B&B does not serve until 8am</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkWd0o5slmKDyN-qu10gMbO9yMmZVQDTqzMUhDM-69mr83fSYGLsMR2BoR1ztv8xCW9B4JoV-hiAOiCezrms-m6sDzCoI-QDNoNPKXjTX2IUGVJKD4nZRL8dGDbuo1BSX-QkfBswUrA0_i/s1600/27993109_2022216188047204_4567515328408476855_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkWd0o5slmKDyN-qu10gMbO9yMmZVQDTqzMUhDM-69mr83fSYGLsMR2BoR1ztv8xCW9B4JoV-hiAOiCezrms-m6sDzCoI-QDNoNPKXjTX2IUGVJKD4nZRL8dGDbuo1BSX-QkfBswUrA0_i/s320/27993109_2022216188047204_4567515328408476855_o.jpg" width="320" /></a>From leaving Noli we were immediately ascending the hillside, past the ruined church of San Lazzaro and then to the promissory point and the ruins of Santa Margherita. The wind was blowing a bit despite the humidity so we did not stop for too long. Back on the trail we past the old farmhouse that now houses the wooden roof trusses and all manner of other things from the church. Everything left open to the elements as the door swung to and fro in the wind.</div>
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The walk notes have been interesting to read and interpret and today was no exception. We continued to climb on the narrow scrubby path lined with oak and pine, past two red robbers.....yes it mentioned to red robbers. These turned out to be two red rhomboid signs.....</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheKI32GixAEK39MV7nwcTtsYy6cEpTT70Zh_6or6-IlUBk0ka01cGYqvJHY2HrW8XN7xXcmdLLVMxU6Ovui6PGmVX65bbmdWRASiHKVoaGQaRTk-HulpihgUmCA2z-CDeqn0yD9tWFjwx2/s1600/27908222_2022216494713840_2332377946566687677_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheKI32GixAEK39MV7nwcTtsYy6cEpTT70Zh_6or6-IlUBk0ka01cGYqvJHY2HrW8XN7xXcmdLLVMxU6Ovui6PGmVX65bbmdWRASiHKVoaGQaRTk-HulpihgUmCA2z-CDeqn0yD9tWFjwx2/s320/27908222_2022216494713840_2332377946566687677_o.jpg" width="320" /></a>At the summit is the local Carbinieri (police station) which I believe is there because permits need to be bought to walk through the park during the height of the season. </div>
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I find days like today exciting when there is something special to see and you have people who share those same passions and today was going to be a special day. After passing a camping sight we picked up a stranger, or should I say he picked us up......a lovely old black and white sheepdog that walked in front of us, stopping every now and then to make sure we were going his way.</div>
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At a small hamlet an old Osterio was being rebuilt which sat perched above a prehistoric cave, we chose not to venture round to have a look as it was already going to be a long day. It was a bit surreal seeing a huge yellow mobile crane in the middle of nowhere going about its construction business.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG3S0CXnW7EAcuX-jxpUcYe3fSMk69x4Aqed8j1avRyIWik3g_zS5z8QyogOnruGg8rhk3TcGXK5axVn01RRFJfyuJoi456-bUkOtW50sW2WclUBxEEEB3IR_LsEqJvN5xPHo0Ct6ILV3s/s1600/27797573_2022216398047183_4464466763236092838_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG3S0CXnW7EAcuX-jxpUcYe3fSMk69x4Aqed8j1avRyIWik3g_zS5z8QyogOnruGg8rhk3TcGXK5axVn01RRFJfyuJoi456-bUkOtW50sW2WclUBxEEEB3IR_LsEqJvN5xPHo0Ct6ILV3s/s320/27797573_2022216398047183_4464466763236092838_o.jpg" width="320" /></a>For me it truly was a fabulous days walk, cooler, accompanied by a wild wind with unexpected splashes of sunshine. We walked through the now very familiar pine and oak woodland, soft leafy trails and when I can I love to kick my feet through the crunchy leaves. We slowly descended into a new valley through towering limestone gorge like edges.</div>
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The second special moment, if the cave was not one of those, was the three Roman bridges that criss crossed the red earth and over boulder strewn dry stream beds. Two were in very good condition and the third left in ruins. This was obviously a Roman road and so caled,l Via Julius Augustus.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiggm6LP7X433AvA3nCpuYj_4-drCwoo6AZ4Mbuf8RHjZ6Oj9cdZoabSTb8zj3bVFRmheoED13wOcI7VJWk0nK4FYN-m3w7nu7MC8KcPJlNCinFPGZ13ixRm33XSjrkPph2YM2lUlEHSTHS/s1600/27747387_2022216084713881_4655891570032369678_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiggm6LP7X433AvA3nCpuYj_4-drCwoo6AZ4Mbuf8RHjZ6Oj9cdZoabSTb8zj3bVFRmheoED13wOcI7VJWk0nK4FYN-m3w7nu7MC8KcPJlNCinFPGZ13ixRm33XSjrkPph2YM2lUlEHSTHS/s320/27747387_2022216084713881_4655891570032369678_o.jpg" width="320" /></a>Back on tarmac we weaved our way through olive groves and vineyard terraces, occasionally taking a short cut to avoid the long winding hairpin bends. This is mountain climbing country and one such route stood epically like a majestic giant proudly showing its size. Sorry thats not for me, I'll stick to walking it not so far to fall if you do!</div>
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Finalborgo was the first habitable place we passed through, again there were strong Roman influences around. After passing through the 13th Century Royal Gate into a maze of charming cobbled piazzas with numerous Osteria, bars and Ristorante, quite a few vegan friendly, which with the outdoor climbing, mountain biking, running and walking shops clearly marked this as a centre supporting outdoor sports.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHh3jWPjv9BWpTXmA7KuQRDrUOzFS2BsVvo6dKYsD4tu3AZc5UjfaGwDZIwH1NIofL92oxmJuHNzipEpncSucp9rIJLU5hDSI9anqLrHqDe-LsKPA9XOIVU3I6joarHcmEEW0Nk-8DaBcx/s1600/27788880_2022217314713758_2566940315046382579_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1194" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHh3jWPjv9BWpTXmA7KuQRDrUOzFS2BsVvo6dKYsD4tu3AZc5UjfaGwDZIwH1NIofL92oxmJuHNzipEpncSucp9rIJLU5hDSI9anqLrHqDe-LsKPA9XOIVU3I6joarHcmEEW0Nk-8DaBcx/s320/27788880_2022217314713758_2566940315046382579_o.jpg" width="238" /></a>After looking at various menus and one that even offered and English breakfast , we settled on one which just turned out to be an ordinary bar for Claire and Sue's Italian bean soup (Zappa fagioli) and tomato ( pomodoro) bruschetta for me. I don't think she liked the English or was having an off day as I never received any cutlery for my bruschetta which turned out to be two pieces of toast, so I settled on using my penknife much to the amusement of the lady on the next table.</div>
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Our final ascent took us virtually straight up, we took our time, stopping every now and then to see the view......there never was one just trees but Sue that it was funny as she called......"let's just stop to admire the view". On the ridge the churches of San Martini and San Maddelena overlooked the wide bay of Pietra Ligure from a lofty cobbled Piazza fringed with scots pine and stone planters filled with red and white cyclamen. After a fair rest and before we got too cold we descended down cobbled paths through a few more delightful medieval settlements, with tiny churches and piazzas overlooking the sea. Before arriving in Pietra Ligure and settling into our accommodation before searching for a well deserved beer!</div>
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<span style="color: #5d5d5d; font-family: helvetica; font-size: 12px; letter-spacing: normal;"><a href="http://www.abbeywalks.co.uk/" style="color: #45c8ff; text-decoration: none;">www.abbeywalks.co.uk</a></span><span style="color: #5d5d5d; font-family: helvetica; font-size: xx-small; letter-spacing: normal;"> </span></div>
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Happea Travellershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16870003987361121743noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7802512566465973982.post-6263812072552938432018-02-11T10:02:00.002-08:002018-02-11T10:03:27.922-08:00St Augustine Way - Savona to Noli, Italy<div style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "SF Optimized", system-ui, -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 14px; letter-spacing: -0.11999999731779099px; margin-bottom: 6px;">
Day 11. Savona to Noli 17km</div>
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Total walked: 231km</div>
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With just a short day we decided on a late start which was perfect for me as I am now full on lurgy'd. We popped across the Piazza for a lazy breakfast.</div>
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Before long we were tracing our steps back to the Cathedral where we finished the previous day. I just love Claire's comments and once again I have to quote her delights of the first kilometres travel.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg5tzhioj6HlAzvU62__tNz9lBTbqxqulU70jBb55qllyTOnTguhAv8KQDBmxaeL8lha-qNlI3G4qjci8CUlb_uNGJZW8LnkqhVrp069AQ2ySoLLPDoNSdBpScTLjpHwNrY7HV6ualeB7p/s1600/27913245_2020819644853525_7537063070910387586_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg5tzhioj6HlAzvU62__tNz9lBTbqxqulU70jBb55qllyTOnTguhAv8KQDBmxaeL8lha-qNlI3G4qjci8CUlb_uNGJZW8LnkqhVrp069AQ2ySoLLPDoNSdBpScTLjpHwNrY7HV6ualeB7p/s320/27913245_2020819644853525_7537063070910387586_o.jpg" width="320" /></a>"The first 6km was an uninspiring drag along the edge of the noisy, car fume smelly sea front road, through down-at-heel suburbia brightened only by the colourful cake, bread, meat, fruit and vegetable shops and cafes, neatly presented with pride by their owners". </div>
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Along the way we spied one of Claire or Sue's lastest renovation projects. A large, elegant, but sadly dilapidated Art Noveau house standing in what was once a prime position by the sea, with beautiful gardens that were probably very manicured. It now stands sadly trapped between a main road and the urban sprawl of Savona.</div>
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At the back of the property were beautiful carved stone sea view balconies with elaborate wrought iron designs, now slowly crumbling. At the front below an impressive central tower sweeping marble steps grace both sides and the front.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmKZAvUwxQMSfJQj9PzRxOxUb82N7iMdakjo6JsnHrvbi0vm7WCYcHEgz-Zai2uCp4uU3Mq3zW2fXcK2DSiNRyGxEMWpo96oeAOqH2McxlZrNsmPY35sSg8WMqzQLQFGRIcQAc1WZSZ_oi/s1600/27747887_2020818468186976_6525514548554501590_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmKZAvUwxQMSfJQj9PzRxOxUb82N7iMdakjo6JsnHrvbi0vm7WCYcHEgz-Zai2uCp4uU3Mq3zW2fXcK2DSiNRyGxEMWpo96oeAOqH2McxlZrNsmPY35sSg8WMqzQLQFGRIcQAc1WZSZ_oi/s320/27747887_2020818468186976_6525514548554501590_o.jpg" width="320" /></a>Our journey continued and took a small detour to cross a medieval bridge, also now sadly neglected. prior to returning the the sea shore we passed under a railway tunnel 1.7m clearance height......we just made it through.</div>
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We kept as close as we could to the sea shore but the main road on our right reminded us all to often that it was not to be a quiet first part of the day. In Vado we again took a break, this time for second breakfasts as well as killing a bit of time. </div>
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We'd been lucky so far and had travelled along an easy level path but as the heavens unleashed some rain we donned our Ponchos before venturing into the foothills and the penultimate climb of the day. There had been a large fire during 2017 and the landscape was still raw with the evidence. Fire blackened pine trees some clearly showing signs of the sap that had oozed out of it due to the heat. Like dripping candle wax that had set hard it was a sight to see.</div>
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We descended on a loose gravel track along the hillside, past Roman Caves that were hidden in the dense foliage, to Spotorno. We were not carrying any supplies today as there was plenty of places along the way to eat. It was after 1pm and tummies were rumbling so we stopped at a cafe / bar that advertised no table service......not a good sign. Claire and Sue went into order and soon they were tucking into fresh green salads and chips al fresco whilst being watched by two young seagulls hoping for scraps. They were out of luck today and eventually grew bored and flew away.</div>
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The air was getting cool and so we pressed on and the final short climb of the day before descending down steps and through the medieval gateway of Noli. We wound our way along the narrow streets and through a pedestrianised arcade to reach our B&B Casa dei Mombri.<br />
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After checking in and being received warmly like long lost relatives, we ventured out to wander across the beach on the wide sweeping bay, overlooked by the hilltop fort high on the hill.</div>
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Noli is a place to return to.</div>
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<span style="color: #5d5d5d; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;"><a href="http://www.abbeywalks.co.uk/" style="color: #45c8ff; text-decoration: none;">www.abbeywalks.co.uk</a></span><span style="color: #5d5d5d; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: xx-small; letter-spacing: normal;"> </span><br />
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Happea Travellershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16870003987361121743noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7802512566465973982.post-19470805047583908642018-02-06T11:39:00.004-08:002018-02-06T11:43:32.761-08:00St Augustine Way - Arenzana to Savona, Italy<div style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "SF Optimized", system-ui, -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 14px; letter-spacing: -0.11999999731779099px; margin-bottom: 6px;">
Day 10</div>
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Arenzana to Savona. 21km, flat.</div>
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It was forecast to be a foggy day but the sky stayed grey but it was very humid so it meant another day for the legs to be out.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEin41xJrl_O-nFdzonP71fZej70d17DevUR0U8U1Wed5NTHqfzjTgdNfJ0JoZTYVq8t-FJYS5y1zqB2ROg7QtIi-FgqEUYzkVf-5r6Wv2ywieeF01Xe8fkJN2QuCfXNnk_pxPe4fbCn5tQa/s1600/27504141_2019827394952750_4815090812444939832_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEin41xJrl_O-nFdzonP71fZej70d17DevUR0U8U1Wed5NTHqfzjTgdNfJ0JoZTYVq8t-FJYS5y1zqB2ROg7QtIi-FgqEUYzkVf-5r6Wv2ywieeF01Xe8fkJN2QuCfXNnk_pxPe4fbCn5tQa/s320/27504141_2019827394952750_4815090812444939832_o.jpg" width="320" /></a>After a reasonable breakfast in the hotel we were out of the door before 8am and then a quick stop for water bottles to filled at the Piazza water tap. Why pay when you can get it free?</div>
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The route was to be a flat one along the sea front and along the disused coastal railway line; through numerous dimly lit tunnels , past pebble, rock and sand bays. Stopping every now and then to watch the numerous bird life around us. As we exited the tunnels we were met with the soothing roll of the sea washing along the shore and the occasional clicking of pebbles moving gently with the rhythm of the sea. </div>
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After 11km and with no rush today, we arrived at the small seafront town of Varazze where we sat outside for a cappuccino at a street-side bar and to Claires amusement<br />
the ‘keep your knees warm’ monogrammed fleece blankets were chained to the chairs! </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNLAXi8hEWudbrFZ3BoWiEqw5zX_QW5OJimK3pHrtc_pruBaLXI0LNv-KXJj4mexzO1bBbnCIP-Sn4fnndHhcmWS9Cs_IWDADRqzYmBc2UDtIeyERWOjpzDizEPy3jYfGsPH15gCaaJH21/s1600/27709763_2019827774952712_6586798286341597846_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNLAXi8hEWudbrFZ3BoWiEqw5zX_QW5OJimK3pHrtc_pruBaLXI0LNv-KXJj4mexzO1bBbnCIP-Sn4fnndHhcmWS9Cs_IWDADRqzYmBc2UDtIeyERWOjpzDizEPy3jYfGsPH15gCaaJH21/s320/27709763_2019827774952712_6586798286341597846_o.jpg" width="320" /></a>The final 10km to Savona continued briefly through railway tunnels and then the coast but was spoilt by the busy Via Aurelia road on our right. As we approached the busy port of Savona we spied a heronry nestled at the top of several trees and not far below and main road that swept between the hillsides.</div>
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At the medieval clock tower we turned right to enter the city centre passing along Art Nouveau corridors lined with shops. We'd not taken any lunch with us today and after finishing the days walk at the Cathedral we beat a hasty retreat to find lunch. Claire spied some chairs outside with attractive fury seat pads and was immediately distracted. Unfortunaltey it turned out to be just a bar so was immediately discounted. </div>
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In a covered Piazza we sat down and the ladies had the local bean soup washed down with wine and I settled for a health Tuna Nicoise salad and water. </div>
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We had priority access to our overnight accommodation and so I called to say I had arrived.....no answer. We made our way to the apartment and tried to call again.......no answer. We retired to a local bar to seek shelter and a beer and after repeatingly receiving no reply to my phone calls I called bookingdotcom some two hours later. </div>
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After over 3 hours I was finally told that somebody would meet me at the apartment. Met by the owners daughter who could not speak English, it transpired that the owner was in Brazil!. And his was the only number t call. The apartment was shared by others but we did have our own bathroom and sleeping space in an elegant, quirky 4th floor period apartment.</div>
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Happea Travellershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16870003987361121743noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7802512566465973982.post-20968058705054690672018-02-06T11:34:00.002-08:002018-02-06T11:34:43.349-08:00St Augustine Way - Genoa to Arenzano, Italy<div style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "SF Optimized", system-ui, -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 14px; letter-spacing: -0.11999999731779099px; margin-bottom: 6px;">
Day 9</div>
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Genoa to Arenzano 24km</div>
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We woke to clouds with a hint of sun and rain and left the apartment early, i'm well and truly lurgy'd now and Claire is ever so slowly recovering. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid7UxZ4M063cQMxE8v6nsHy_IjnQWGPVlBzN0u3O4L3XQ8l3pAcyz5sqCvfcGdtkL_eotL6xZ-5hrjvd-ceKpH3kLUZEE7Kg7GeslJKCqwPfPd4sylJGbqQuI8PjvaLTwgyPtvIo6BWjDY/s1600/27628794_2018301171772039_7913009626916208338_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1194" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid7UxZ4M063cQMxE8v6nsHy_IjnQWGPVlBzN0u3O4L3XQ8l3pAcyz5sqCvfcGdtkL_eotL6xZ-5hrjvd-ceKpH3kLUZEE7Kg7GeslJKCqwPfPd4sylJGbqQuI8PjvaLTwgyPtvIo6BWjDY/s320/27628794_2018301171772039_7913009626916208338_o.jpg" width="238" /></a>The walk today was a bit like marmite....you either loved it or hated it. "15km flat stretch of urban walking along the heavily utilised coastal strip which separates town from sea. Interesting but not pleasant, passing graffiti covered buildings, stacked containers, busy docks, factories, immigrants<span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; font-family: inherit;">, poverty, dog poo; breathing in the fumes from car, lorry, motorcycle and trains whilst subjected continuously to their noise" - as quoted by Claire. Next time she's getting the train for this section </span></div>
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After 15km we reached Voltri and I was nervous about the next part of the walk. I was conscious that somehow we had to negotiate two motorways ahead of us and even walking the route virtually along the motorway, I was unable to see how we were going to get through......alive.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkGemn9Rg812t533P_rmAPMImtevVr_xndbTbO5w9Bz9js8jDJ7LUs7UP7FYHKYTNoaE4qDKRl10zV_wpOEg-amhvvJGUnDoRqUgOb1qxrUENZUDec9Bu2d50Z1HZh-t_OBOcFC9xeouiV/s1600/27500367_2018301341772022_5111808887055806296_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkGemn9Rg812t533P_rmAPMImtevVr_xndbTbO5w9Bz9js8jDJ7LUs7UP7FYHKYTNoaE4qDKRl10zV_wpOEg-amhvvJGUnDoRqUgOb1qxrUENZUDec9Bu2d50Z1HZh-t_OBOcFC9xeouiV/s320/27500367_2018301341772022_5111808887055806296_o.jpg" width="320" /></a>With trepidation we continued along the road through the village of Crevari until there was no road left. Our route continued between road barriers and along what was left of the old road although very diminished and overgrown. Between motorways we bravely walked on, the path getting narrow and narrow and more overgrown. Just I thought we were going to have to jump over the safety barriers and walk along the hard shoulder we spied what looked like a tunnel. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8Jzz8qhyPQn43ZbU15-J94PtaJR54MpANWTqjm8MluEQPGBKFoJX-3mfgBrMqnD1_mlSIdhZMWBbNjO40sUn6DzuHQfFZzVVgGoXHy6D29W9UbhOopORSPBu-svUlbGeCgJp1Bs-qYS0N/s1600/27500772_2018301071772049_8171290417046444924_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8Jzz8qhyPQn43ZbU15-J94PtaJR54MpANWTqjm8MluEQPGBKFoJX-3mfgBrMqnD1_mlSIdhZMWBbNjO40sUn6DzuHQfFZzVVgGoXHy6D29W9UbhOopORSPBu-svUlbGeCgJp1Bs-qYS0N/s320/27500772_2018301071772049_8171290417046444924_o.jpg" width="320" /></a>The path turned right and yes there was a tunnel blissfully unaware of the dangerous above its head, we were so pleased to see it. We safely negotiated the motorway and then skirted round to follow in safety behind a fence, with the road only feet away. </div>
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The final kilometres saw us winding our way up hill and downhill between the bridge bases of the motorways high above our heads. At one point carefully crossing where there had been a landslip before descending down to the quiet unassuming town of Arenzano. After a quick check in to our top floor apartment with balcony and sea view, we retired to the local bar for our first gelato.</div>
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Happea Travellershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16870003987361121743noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7802512566465973982.post-68430122298662596852018-02-06T11:30:00.002-08:002018-02-06T11:30:49.653-08:00St Augustine Way - Genoa - Rest Day, Italy<div style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "SF Optimized", system-ui, -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 14px; letter-spacing: -0.11999999731779099px; margin-bottom: 6px;">
Day 8</div>
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Genoa rest day</div>
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Well it was nice to wake up and not have to walk. Breakfast was brought to us a 9am and was ok, but not a full English or even a partial one.</div>
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As is always the case for me.....the priorities are wash as much of my clothes without having to wander around in the birthday suit all day. Catch up on blogs and rest the legs.</div>
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Genoa is a calling point for the big cruise liners and the town itself is steeped in history. Resting is always my priority so I left the sightseeing to the ladies.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDIXQBQOXkEvXNPQENDYll2tpkqoBzGIdB909g4jOqbO2IB-fSaeRwyI8zCHGl29hL1agpr7GMYLo66vPxk6-ahVMe_9_j6G46uHJQEBhQAXXcWW8U1GH3KaL9mnHHkC-znWMA43rchWw-/s1600/27747660_2019806444954845_5845829347317966680_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1194" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDIXQBQOXkEvXNPQENDYll2tpkqoBzGIdB909g4jOqbO2IB-fSaeRwyI8zCHGl29hL1agpr7GMYLo66vPxk6-ahVMe_9_j6G46uHJQEBhQAXXcWW8U1GH3KaL9mnHHkC-znWMA43rchWw-/s320/27747660_2019806444954845_5845829347317966680_o.jpg" width="238" /></a>After resting most of the day, Claire called mid afternoon and we got together in the Piazza for a pasta lunch. The ladies had wine....well they are on holiday, I stuck to water.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDf5snpxUqiX2gCADSEWBCpJuUBDVmR-1tbzqsz6-vLV5TxhvyB1cGQTPK-n47IvyRATpA1gbgLfJxLT2xPBS8BxtgquU753SqmkjHqxibCxaln1S44WK0yEPEqcMDg3raZEW8lSW2K-6D/s1600/27709421_2019806141621542_6153109507334124950_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDf5snpxUqiX2gCADSEWBCpJuUBDVmR-1tbzqsz6-vLV5TxhvyB1cGQTPK-n47IvyRATpA1gbgLfJxLT2xPBS8BxtgquU753SqmkjHqxibCxaln1S44WK0yEPEqcMDg3raZEW8lSW2K-6D/s320/27709421_2019806141621542_6153109507334124950_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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I returned back to the apartment to complete some more work and then decided to stretch my legs and have a look around the Cathedral. St Augustine who's journey I am recreating spent some time in Genoa and so I decided to venture to the Monastery. Sadly the church itself has been deconsecrated and the main part of the monastery was destroyed in the second world war. The building was unusual in the the cloister was triangular and is still in place today. I had a wander around the modern museum within the footprint of the abbey but it did not provide any more information about Augustine.</div>
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Back at the apartment dinner was in full swing and no sooner was I through the door when I glass of vino was passed my way. Dinner was a wonderful evening, a simple meal, wine and good conversation and a bit of reminiscing about the walk so far.</div>
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9pm we were retiring to our rooms ready for the walk ahead in the morning.</div>
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Happea Travellershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16870003987361121743noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7802512566465973982.post-35475790199675216422018-02-06T11:21:00.000-08:002018-02-06T11:21:12.683-08:00St Augustine Way - Camogli to Genoa, Italy<div style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "SF Optimized", system-ui, -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 14px; letter-spacing: -0.11999999731779099px; margin-bottom: 6px;">
Day 7</div>
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Camogli to Genoa 25km</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH3Fw7BnvfPtgbxOX6aRv9ISCaPHC-GBgwzPBiKaaPx9EgOu_AicH566w5M1zg35IPrwbeXLBUsfmr0OGDMfaExJiYEyNVHuhfyx080mNCS6oP0OFkjnEMKter6RrGT2DiQ_gK3GHogcr9/s1600/27173892_2017258175209672_4214958994822187210_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1194" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH3Fw7BnvfPtgbxOX6aRv9ISCaPHC-GBgwzPBiKaaPx9EgOu_AicH566w5M1zg35IPrwbeXLBUsfmr0OGDMfaExJiYEyNVHuhfyx080mNCS6oP0OFkjnEMKter6RrGT2DiQ_gK3GHogcr9/s320/27173892_2017258175209672_4214958994822187210_o.jpg" width="238" /></a>After two mild cloudy days we walked today in a mix of light and heavy showers drifting in from the sea. Our first opportunity to try our new walking ponchos arose when the heavens opened. We sheltered in an open garage and donned our ponchos and waterproof trousers. Sue’s was the best one. Claire had not tried hers on with a pack and once on it looked as though it had been sprayed on, it was that tight. She decided to revert to the over the top look instead. Mine, well it was easy to get on but required a third party to pull the back down over my walking pole. After deciding to wear my waterproof trousers at the last minute, the giving birth technique worked better. Simply described, take off rucksack from under the poncho and reverse to reapply.....much easier and perfect if you have no friends.</div>
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Photographes of us wearing them will follow, just imagine Quasimodo and you’ll get the idea</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw-TGQoObYkFcENFC-snhJHP6bqotSXeU0UWDRlw6RXyfuRyFI7JiuITKypLeDG8vm_3U3C_wvIqkhoazZxCe_7CtWgy2XqXlQi2TpvQqdSti50jxk2IAKI5MIDK5wCiohxNq9Ag6nZPni/s1600/27624558_2017258705209619_5195897464394840322_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1194" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw-TGQoObYkFcENFC-snhJHP6bqotSXeU0UWDRlw6RXyfuRyFI7JiuITKypLeDG8vm_3U3C_wvIqkhoazZxCe_7CtWgy2XqXlQi2TpvQqdSti50jxk2IAKI5MIDK5wCiohxNq9Ag6nZPni/s320/27624558_2017258705209619_5195897464394840322_o.jpg" width="238" /></a>Our journey took us up and down along narrow paved pathways following the undulating contours of the coastline, softened in comparison to previous days but nonetheless with numerous steep, near vertical flights of steps up and down as we made our way from Camogli with atmospheric, dusky early morning light over the pretty harbour. We passed through Recco up to the Torre on the headland, jamming ourselves and packs alongside newspaper reading locals into a small village roadside bar en route for our usual cappucino/Crema cornetto Calzione ( breakfast). </div>
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We descended into the pretty village of Sori, yes that's it's name and then climbed once again through woodland to Pieve Alta before descending to Bogliasco where the huge stone viaduct carry the sea hugging railway line over the beach and town. Once more we ascended steps and weaved our way along terraces to the Santa Maria sanctuary and over the final headland down to Nervi where we lunched at the White Bistro. A food heaven, with a fabulous young owner. We dined on fresh home made focaccia of various combinations and chatted to the locals, one of which was heading to London that afternoon</div>
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I continued alone to Genoa whilst, both weary from fighting the Lurgy, Sue and Claire. My journey continued through suburbia, meandering around the narrow streets and finally the last few kilometres along the traffic snarled roads of the centre. As I made my way to our accommodation for the night I spied two women with rucksack on looking very suspicious, hang on that's Claire and Sue I said to myself. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9daBp-8vMBhYmLZaAlb8rcobUDBOBM93pta4ZJBhVB-upmFIIE55bHV0crmlzBs-b8kjN_wWh32k28KNvHkB5fRzEypIibfUB3cZndYCVntGYkTuL1uiCSiXCi0T46TPrgC39aFSh7Y0s/s1600/27356444_2017259101876246_2109292195435730697_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9daBp-8vMBhYmLZaAlb8rcobUDBOBM93pta4ZJBhVB-upmFIIE55bHV0crmlzBs-b8kjN_wWh32k28KNvHkB5fRzEypIibfUB3cZndYCVntGYkTuL1uiCSiXCi0T46TPrgC39aFSh7Y0s/s320/27356444_2017259101876246_2109292195435730697_o.jpg" width="320" /></a>Tonight we are in an apartment that overlooks the Cathedral, literally you could almost touch it. On the 5th floor, yes there's a lift, it's early 1900s, has huge high ceiling rooms, an incredible bathroom with central circular tiled bath ( quite big enough for four people ) and floor to ceiling windows which open and look out onto the substantial black and white, marble clad, impressively carved and decorated Duomo. </div>
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We celebrated Sue’s recent unexpected award by the Royal Horticultural Society for services to Horticulture, dining at (what turned out to be) a brilliant restaurant, Ristorante Rustichello. Tonight will be beans on toast at the Apartment !</div>
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Happea Travellershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16870003987361121743noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7802512566465973982.post-63239558491548868982018-01-30T10:48:00.000-08:002018-01-30T10:48:15.427-08:00St Augustine Way, Chiavari to Camogli, Italy<div style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "SF Optimized", system-ui, -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 14px; letter-spacing: -0.11999999731779099px; margin-bottom: 6px;">
Day 6</div>
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Chiavari to Camogli 21km</div>
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After a good nights sleep and and even better night being wined and dined with Joanne, Claire and I set off just before the daylight broke. We were leaving Sue behind again today but she was going to join us for the last 6km for climb up to and through the Portfofino National Park.</div>
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The air was cool but not cold and we sat outside for breakfast at a little cafe near Piazza Mazini. We popped our heads into the Signora dell'Orta Cathedral with exceptionally large frontage and rather too much, inside less opulent. Our journey continued to weave through the suburbs, eyes fixed to the pavement to avoid doggy landmines that have been unfortunately all to common on our walk so far.</div>
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After a quick climb up through the woods and past a world war 2 bunker we reached the Sanctuary delle Grazie that provide unspoilt views back to Chiavri. After taken advantage of a water fountain we pressed on all the while slowly climbing before levelling off to reach the church of San Pietro in Roverto. </div>
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Steps both up and down have become our usual way of traveling on this voyage of discovery and today was going to be no exception. Unfortunately I had committed to start counting them before we set off on day 1 and I was not going back to start again.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBADptc7ynGkXqysu-j9TcFQRZqrXCYutbM8OuWG9ksnqTx5D-vWCQrzBo3F7hrPRuWL0h9M03rnxk6UEhGaEnoDDa7jxyMMczR843ifYJn1ZPlXcyB2shbsu5YZLqJNeeOHtNTW2_oFWs/s1600/27356266_2016212371980919_7856703797432616550_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBADptc7ynGkXqysu-j9TcFQRZqrXCYutbM8OuWG9ksnqTx5D-vWCQrzBo3F7hrPRuWL0h9M03rnxk6UEhGaEnoDDa7jxyMMczR843ifYJn1ZPlXcyB2shbsu5YZLqJNeeOHtNTW2_oFWs/s320/27356266_2016212371980919_7856703797432616550_o.jpg" width="320" /></a>We descended, yes down steps, weaving along a small alleyway that eventually brought us the the town of Zoagli, gazing in wonder as our walk notes had told us to as we descended down steps from above another church. Crossing the Piazza children were laughing while they enthusiastically played football and another group of smaller children sat patiently on a wall waiting for their teachers next instruction.</div>
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We passed through up more steps and then along an ancient cobbled pathway set in the olive groves of a peaceful hillside. It was nice to be at the top as it was easier on the legs, the steps are starting to take their toll, certainly for me. We weaved our way around the winding road, with olive groves and vineyards scattered in the hillside, before descending into Rapello. </div>
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Rapello is another of the sea fronted towns situated in a large cove but had clearly once been a main thorough fare for the Romans. We passed the very large single span Roman Bridge called Annebel, not sure why that is but it is a nice name. It is reputed to be more than 1000 years old and at one time had a river passing underneath it, unfortunately and very sadly it is a busy road.</div>
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In Santa Margherita (14 km) Sue joined us and we all sat and relaxed in the sunshine by the marina eating our lunch. There was a bit of a nip in the air so we did not loiter too much. With one more hill, and a big one - 500m, Sue removed the extra 2 kilos she did not need to be carrying and passed it onto me. Yes, chivalry is not dead yet.</div>
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The journey was arduous to say the least and in places very steep and interspersed with the odd group of steps. We steadily made our way up through the Portofino National park, part way up heading layers as the combination of the humid air and sunshine rapidly heated us up to near melting point.</div>
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At the top we were expecting fabulous views but all we saw was the way we had come and if there had been a more direct path we could have saved time and distance. By a strange small wetland area that had been created by the side of the path, we turned left and made our slow descent to the end of the day. Passing a small shrine and a picnic area side by side the walk notes had mentioned passing ceramic polychrome of Via Crucis! In English this turned out to be religious shrines depicting scenes from the bible, all completed in ceramic mosaic tiles.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidt3Phzg0jceZLgyPExFDQXemHs2KuwzM1IrB3zWihBN84-t0j0WFw-bDgPjCH32oMTAwpZdiyZd4ZxLOV4zaWevhThh7HkCwo5lnNF9gzBONiI2CEdJvJN2Dc-rOiOdeHzD-HMOTtD55t/s1600/27501020_2016212235314266_6174367663901638604_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidt3Phzg0jceZLgyPExFDQXemHs2KuwzM1IrB3zWihBN84-t0j0WFw-bDgPjCH32oMTAwpZdiyZd4ZxLOV4zaWevhThh7HkCwo5lnNF9gzBONiI2CEdJvJN2Dc-rOiOdeHzD-HMOTtD55t/s320/27501020_2016212235314266_6174367663901638604_o.jpg" width="320" /></a>The final part of the day saw us winding down a very steep path through small clusters of houses only accessible by the path. Part way down we had to step t once side as a moped came hurtling down the hill with a small child on. Fortunately the path has a small slope on side for such purposes and although I can ride a motorbike, I don't think I would have liked to be going up or down the path on one.</div>
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Tonight we are staying in an apartment with a balcony and sea view and I think Claire is coming down with Sue's lurgy as she is tired this afternoon.</div>
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Happea Travellershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16870003987361121743noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7802512566465973982.post-53229351705657902322018-01-30T10:40:00.000-08:002018-01-30T10:40:47.300-08:00St Augustine Way - Moneglia to Chiavari, Italy<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "SF Optimized", system-ui, -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 14px; letter-spacing: -0.11999999731779099px;">Day 5. </span><br />
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I had been corresponding with somebody who had walked part of the Via della Costa as we were doing, and they lived in Chiavari. Tonight we were having our evening meal provided by somebody who had also walked the same path we were currently completing and a former Pilgrim.</div>
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I'd been corresponding with Joanne (originally from Canada) about our walk, my walking business and had been invited for supper. At 6.30pm laden with o<span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; font-family: inherit;">ur gifts of wine an apple cake we met Joanne in Piazza Manzini and were promptly taken back to her apartment. The evening was an absolute delight, with shoes off and coats hung up we were whisked into the kitchen and sat round the table and just talked about walking and life in general. Not only was she a translator but a flute player for a rock band.....And, it is such a small world that she had been born in Leeds - 15 miles from where I live and 20 miles from Claire.</span></div>
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Joanne had many tales to tell of meeting and walking with Pilgrims and their experiences, all of which were very familiar to Claire and I after our journey from Rome last year.</div>
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The night revolved around eating several bowls of home made hearty soup and fresh breads, a fresh walnut salad, followed by our own apple cake. All washed down with our red wine, which I think Claire was disappointed with because she couldn't find one for €10 or more and it wasn't a superiore. Joanna supplied a bottle of their own red wine from their small vineyard which made ours look like Aldi's own brand grape juice. I think we could have talked all night and probably might have, but Sue was visibly wilting with the lurgy so we drew the night to a close.</div>
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It's experiences like the one we had just received really demonstrate how nice some people can be. As total strangers we were made so welcome and I'm sure we left as friends. We hope to reciprocate when Joanne comes to England.</div>
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<span style="color: #5d5d5d; font-family: helvetica; font-size: 12px; letter-spacing: normal;"><a href="http://www.abbeywalks.co.uk/" style="color: #45c8ff; text-decoration: none;">www.abbeywalks.co.uk</a></span><span style="color: #5d5d5d; font-family: helvetica; font-size: xx-small; letter-spacing: normal;"> </span></div>
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Happea Travellershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16870003987361121743noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7802512566465973982.post-10639631436177071322018-01-25T11:14:00.001-08:002018-01-25T11:14:56.758-08:00St Augustine Way - Levanto to Moneglia, Italy<div style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "SF Optimized", system-ui, -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 14px; letter-spacing: -0.11999999731779099px; margin-bottom: 6px;">
<u>Day 4, 19km.</u></div>
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Sue was definitely under the weather and with the lurgy she decided to not walk and continue by train to Moneglia. Claire and I popped next door to the bar for our now regular Cornetto (croissants) a la creme's and coffee and with breakfast over, fresh bread and focaccia for elevenses to nibble on, we were walking along the promenade of the seashore.</div>
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After just 10 mins we were once more climbing steps and ascending from sea level to about 200m. After crossing a road we headed downhill on steps and then narrow pedestrian streets. The guide notes which I'd loosely translated into English mentioned passing villas with gardens of beautiful blooms......mmm it's winter what should we be seeing now we both questioned.</div>
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We quickly passed through Bonassalo and once again we were soon climbing the hillside and passing through the scrubland. As our path turned the corner of the headland the sea unfurled far below us, a vivid turquoise blue in the sunlight. Our path took us very, very close to the edge of the cliff and as Claire got her phone out to take a photo, it dropped out of her hand. It skittered and bounced forward getting closer and closer to the edge and then over to thankfully come to rest at a thorny bush. Claire gingerly made her way to retrieve it and yes as I write this she is still with us and did not fall over the edge. It is difficult to put into words just how spectacular this section was and how narrow in some places it was. It has to be experienced, but you have to like heights.</div>
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What ever goes up always has to come down, I think I'll mention that to Archimedes. At the end of our path we descend a very steep, rocky path, very very slowly, passing through the Valley of the Blades and back along the cliff top to Framura.</div>
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No sooner we were down then we were back up again, passing through the sleepy hamlet of Anzo before climbing a monster set of stairs that just went on and on. Thankfully at the top there was a picnic bench but no oxygen tanks to replenish the lungs.</div>
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After a much needed rest we meandered along typical Ligurian narrow pathways through Ravecca and Sette two more small hamlets. The latter with an ornate Lavoire (Wash house). We continued to climb and at the top met several gunmen out shooting, I assumed wild boar.....anything that moved. A walker, who passed us by said "Don't worry they don't shoot foreigners". Mmmm were not convinced!</div>
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At the end of the track we descended a very steep, rocky, slippy path. Part way down we met someone that we thought was maintaining the path. We exchanged the obligatory Buongorno's and it transpired he was making soil ramps for his mountain biking friends.......I politely mentioned that he was loco. How and why do people come down such ridiculous terrain on a bike? Probably because it's there.</div>
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Once on level ground we progressed into Deiva Marina, found two benches, one each and with boots and socks off we had lunch. It is so refreshing to have your hot sweaty little piggies kissed by a gentle breeze while you rest.</div>
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After a decent break we redressed and burst forward for our final ascent of the day - 2km uphill from sea level to 350m. Our path initially was on a concrete road but at the end we headed into the woods and up again. We had mentioned to Sue what our route would be and how long it would take and at the top..........there she was.</div>
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After squeals of delight from all of us, we made our way, all together down to Moneglia, happily chatting away once more.</div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;"><a href="http://www.abbeywalks.co.uk/" style="color: #45c8ff;">www.abbeywalks.co.uk</a></span><span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: x-small;"> </span><br />
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Happea Travellershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16870003987361121743noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7802512566465973982.post-32104833671984202652018-01-25T11:09:00.002-08:002018-01-25T11:11:33.435-08:00St Augustine Way - Caste to Levanto, Italy<div style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "SF Optimized", system-ui, -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 14px; letter-spacing: -0.11999999731779099px; margin-bottom: 6px;">
<u>Day 3</u><br />
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We woke before the dawn had broken and soon into the Pilgrim routine of packing the rucksack, ensuring nothing was left behind whilst for some of us drinking strong Italian black coffee. For me there's no other way to drink coffee.</div>
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By 7.30 we were bidding farewell to our lovely abode, made even special by our next door neighbour, Marco popping round the previous night to welcome us to the village.</div>
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Our path continued up and up the hillside, through Caprena and at the saddle of the hill we met up with a local hunter. After some Italian exchanges he pointed us in the direction of Volastra. 1km later at a path junction I checked my GPS as there were no signs for our route. It transpired that we were heading in the wrong direction. It probably was another way to the village but not the one we wanted. We returned to where we had just come from and although he was still there, he seemed to ignore our presence. At the right path we took the steep decline down a cobbled and broken stone path. It was well into midmorning and the with the sun high in the sky the temperature was climbing. At the bottom of the hill we reached a wide level track and followed it to the end.</div>
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In Volastra (10km) we went in search of a cafe but it is not tourist reason and everywhere is closed up until March. At the local mini market we bought supplies for lunch and an espresso and returned to the Piazza of the church to rest and have second breakfast. After 15 mins and much faffing by all of us we were soon on our way and our journey continued along the narrow terraces of the vineyards that hugged the cliffside with the sea glistening in the sunlight far below us. Soon there was an almost vertical ascent up the into the wooded hillside to reach the main rd. At the top we rested, naturally, Sue was having problems with a blister and decided that as there was another 18km ahead she would call it a day. Claire decided to keep her company and I pressed on eager to finish the day before it got dark.</div>
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After a section along the road I was soon heading into and around the wooded ravines and the 4km along it was hard and very strenuous with some very steep climbs and the odd stream to cross. </div>
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Back on the road I visited the Convent of the Maddona of Reggio situated well away from the road sleepily sat on the side of a hill. This would be a good place to return to and stay the night. There was even a little cafe open but I did not have time to stop.</div>
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With 10km ahead of me I pressed on as it was 14:30. Back on the road I made good time and after a further 150m of ascent I was finally descending towards the end of the days walk. At the Convent of Soviore I decided that I need to rest my feet and refuel. With boots & socks off, feet up on a bench I dined on bread and cheese and my goodness it tasted so good.</div>
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10 minutes rest was too much time wasted walking but much needed and with boots on once more I marched on. I had walked the route virtually at home in the office using google maps and street view so I knew I was nearly home for the night. After one finally section on the main road I was soon back in the woods on a dirt track which was slightly more comfortable on the feet and arriving at Fontona. </div>
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From that point I relaxed knowing that the last few kilometres were along the suburbs of Levanto and so if it got dark that was ok. I'd tried to contact Claire to let her know of my progress and enquire about them too, but I'd had no signal all day. </div>
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By 17:00 I was arriving at the Piazza del Popolo in Levanto and the end of the days walk and 31km walked.....all in shorts and T-shirt in January.</div>
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I asked a local if he could show me the way to the Piazza where my hotel was situated, he pointed across the road and as I arrived at the doorway, Claire rang to say she'd just arrived too.</div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.abbeywalks.co.uk/">www.abbeywalks.co.uk</a></span><span style="color: black; font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: small; text-align: center;"> </span><br />
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Happea Travellershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16870003987361121743noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7802512566465973982.post-13857193709282096962018-01-23T09:38:00.003-08:002018-01-25T11:10:31.658-08:00St Augustine Way - Sarzana to Caste, Italy<div style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "SF Optimized", system-ui, -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 14px; letter-spacing: -0.11999999731779099px; margin-bottom: 6px;">
<u>Day 2</u><br />
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Well a very hilly day today from Sarzana to the medieval village of Caste, perched on a hill on its own. Total population 15.<br />
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The route initially took us along a very busy road where we took shelter behind a crash barrier for 1km before leaving it in the distance. We've walked along cobbled pathways and up and down steps carved in the ancient woodlands as we passed through villages and hamlets. Just after midday after a strenuous ascent we were rewarded with a stupendous view <span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; font-family: inherit;">across the city and gulf of La Spezia called the Poets fountain.</span><br />
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After we passed through the hamlet of Straw we once again ascended the hillside to the church of Pieve di Santo Stefano, now currently undergoing restoration, but in the Piazza we were once again rewarded with an unspoilt view over La Spezia.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdBZocV3Gxo5QvyqILdX4rdQbf0j1-v4CwyMEm7twdiJml-H6hL7KNN4t2YT4DpcFL9WNykKvZgV1fjpxOluC_wR6bB_0K2nMrD0ok4U0McG_g4uCQ9X_cORQCzPYyRr7ixsFHzXS7cP8D/s1600/26910193_2012155942386562_4465752809593239527_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdBZocV3Gxo5QvyqILdX4rdQbf0j1-v4CwyMEm7twdiJml-H6hL7KNN4t2YT4DpcFL9WNykKvZgV1fjpxOluC_wR6bB_0K2nMrD0ok4U0McG_g4uCQ9X_cORQCzPYyRr7ixsFHzXS7cP8D/s320/26910193_2012155942386562_4465752809593239527_o.jpg" width="320" /></a>The final part of the day saw us descend down an ancient stairway and through a small wooded valley before final crossing a Roman footbridge to reach Caste. Our accommodation is on three floors and shaped like the letter L. One room at the bottom and three bedroom at the very top. It's old, rustic and belongs to an artist and is suitably dressed and adorned with his artwork on the fabric of chairs and pictures. The middle floor has the original frescoed ceiling. </div>
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After 24km, a bottle of the local red wine and a scrumptious simple meal because I had to carry the ingredients in. We all settled down to relax and were in bed by 9.15pm.<br />
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Happea Travellershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16870003987361121743noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7802512566465973982.post-32811259106819633452018-01-22T11:45:00.004-08:002018-01-25T11:10:18.727-08:00St Augustine Way - A Gregorian Mission - Part 2<div class="" data-block="true" data-editor="5j4g6" data-offset-key="9v1a2-0-0" style="color: #1d2129; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;">
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Well after a long day we've arrived and as three Pilgrims we will walk the 29km to Sarzana in the morning. This will be the second stage of the new St Augustine Way - A Gregorian Mission. <b>The route starts in Rome and finishes at Canterbury Abbey and will be launched in 2019.</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">We will be walking for 2 weeks along the Via Della Costa to Menton, then I'll be on my own following the Via Aurelia to Arles.</span><br />
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<u style="font-family: inherit; white-space: pre-wrap;">Day 1</u><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit; white-space: pre-wrap;">An early start from Massa to Sarzana today - 29km although it is possible to make it shorter during the tourist season and accommodation is more available. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit; white-space: pre-wrap;">The route took us through terraced vineyard high above Massa passing Roman and Medieval architecture and marble factories along the way. The weather was 15 degrees and sunny, perfect for shorts.....maybe tomorrow.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit; white-space: pre-wrap;">Today I saw my first Coypu swimming in the canal just outside Sarzana. The day ended with a walk up to the military Fortress Sarzanella that overlooks the town and a cold beer in the Piazza.</span><br />
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Happea Travellershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16870003987361121743noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7802512566465973982.post-77232506949967748012017-11-14T08:25:00.003-08:002018-01-23T09:56:09.218-08:00Stage 12. An early morning cool start to the day.<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">Pont-d'Arbia to Siena, 28th October 2017</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">Distance from Rome: 283km</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">It was a truly memorable evening in the restaurant chatting to the various Pilgrims, each one of us extolling the adventures we had had along the way. At one point Claire tried to relieve a Canadian pilgrim from his very scrummy looking cheesecake, but he was quick off the mark and bravely fought her off.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">Despite the main road being below the bedroom window we all had a good nights sleep and before the cockerel had a chance to wake up and crow, most of us were up and dressed and the first troop leaving before the sunrise. We soon followed and we were in the bar before 7am ordering breakfast. Before we left, other Pilgrims were heading in to order their breakfast and that was when Claire and I learnt a new Italian word...........Krapfen. Yes it sounds very German but it actually means doughnut.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">With supplies bought before the supermarket had officially opened we were leaving Pont-d'Arbia behind and heading across the fields to join the direction of the railway. The morning was nippy with a crisp air, Claire was dressed in all her warm clothing, including hat and gloves. Carlo was repeating the word allora again a lot and commenting on how cold it was. I on the other hand was still wearing shorts, t-shirt and warm top, just pootling along. The sun was very low in the sky and the hills masked the early morning rays so for a few hours we were walking in the shade. We passed two dogs running wild in a field and Carlo mentioned that today was another hunting day. I'm not sure what they were hunting or looking for because there was absolutely nothing to be seen. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">Initially the way was easy going as we followed the railway line along stony white tracks. We walked through Quinciano with the strange sided Cappella Pieri Nerli dominating the hill as we approached the village. Our journey took us close the edge of Monteroni d'Arbia and from the many high points of the journey we looked down upon it.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">The Via Francigena has now many unofficial routes and it can be quite frustrating when the path just circumnavigates a carpark instead of going straight ahead - in the village of Cuna one such detour now exists. From both directions of the VF path there are signs that pass the village by. This is a huge shame as in the village there is the Cuna Grange, now sadly encased in scaffolding but it is one of the best preserved medieval fortified farms. Fortified to safeguard the storing of grain and other cereals. In the 12th century the site was a "Spedale", lodgings that assisted Pilgrims and merchants travelling along the Via Francigena.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">15km into the day we came across a bar and decided to take a quick break. The day had become a bit of a route march as Carlo had a bus to catch in Sienna to connect with a train in Florence that would take him home. Everyone was tired and it was a warm and humid day. We found a table outside and quickly unloaded some food and ate it without too much chatter while Carlo had a coffee and a quick pee. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">In no time at all we were back on track..........or so we thought. I recalled this section from last time but with new signage it was decided to follow that. In no time at all we were walking between allotments and to a dead end. Carlo asked a local the way and he just waved in the opposite direction. We retraced our steps and now I was guiding people the correct way but Carlo was sure in his mind that the route was on the other side of the track and set off that way. I stopped with Claire, checked the map and the GPS and yes I was correct, there was an underpass at the station. We called Carlo back and explained the direction of travel and off we went again, chomping away.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">After passing under the railway line we came to a road and once again the signs disappeared, we went this way, then that way and then stopped and Claire re-enacted the route South. Eventually we on the right course and once again we stomped our way forward, mindful now that time was not on our side for Carlo. We followed the main road across a new pathway for 3km before resuming across fields at the edge of Sienna.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgw6dTgRmyglXijNIcmv0YGNroQjzWD_PbH2J1cyoCir68EnIVyOBpZIq-nfBaxTmjGOGce8zbLjP-AyCfDLwY57fXQWuyhoUXwQzhV8It3p96eXTnrC3ox2chVyLOIEzV-Q8STDGa2fZJW/s1600/IMG_3256.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgw6dTgRmyglXijNIcmv0YGNroQjzWD_PbH2J1cyoCir68EnIVyOBpZIq-nfBaxTmjGOGce8zbLjP-AyCfDLwY57fXQWuyhoUXwQzhV8It3p96eXTnrC3ox2chVyLOIEzV-Q8STDGa2fZJW/s320/IMG_3256.JPG" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: "helvetica";"><span style="font-size: 12px;">I had mentioned the details of the terrain and whether there were many hills before we set off and everyone was aware that the final 5km was to be an uphill climb to the city. What I had not mentioned was it was uphill all the way on a small Tarmac road that was a short cut to the main road below us. Effectively it was like walking on a race track, with us dodging the traffic and switching from one side of the road to the other to keep visible to the traffic.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica";"><span style="font-size: 12px;">By now Carlo was late in arriving, Siena was in our sights but not appearing to get any closer so with bus stops on the road, he sought advice from some of the locals on whether he could get a bus from here. I don't think it was made very clear but when a bus did arrive, he moved closer to the middle of the road and waved at the driver..................the bus slowed down and then carried on ignoring Carlo. Well Claire and I were not surprised................we were in Italy.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica";"><span style="font-size: 12px;">Eventually we walked through the main gateway of Porta Romana and bid farewell to Carlo. Yes, he made the bus on time and yes he managed to get his train home.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica";"><span style="font-size: 12px;">Carlo will join me in 2018 as we walk along the South of France to Arles, I look forward to his company once more.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;"><a href="http://www.abbeywalks.co.uk/">www.abbeywalks.co.uk</a></span><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard; font-size: small;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;"><br /></span>Happea Travellershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16870003987361121743noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7802512566465973982.post-49948970286198018882017-11-14T06:47:00.005-08:002017-11-14T08:46:58.391-08:00Stage 10. A long dusty track<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">Radocofina to San Quirico, 26th October 2017</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">Distance from Rome: 232km</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">Whilst in Radocofini last night we had all visited the local grocery store and been introduced to two local Tuscan dishes, both involved bread. The first Panzanella, a dish of onions, tomatoes, bread, oil all chopped up and serve cold.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">The second was Ribollita, a warm soup that basically contains any vegetables that are left over. These are placed in a pan and with the lid on made to sweat until they start to give of a juice. To the juice is added oil and finally bread. The secret is to let it go cold and then reheat the next day and the more time it is reheated the better and more mature the vegetable stock becomes. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">We had been told which restaurant to go to the night before and booked a table because they were so popular. Once seated we all ordered Ribollita and soon it was brought to the table. A steaming large bowl of hot vegetables, beans (flageolet) and bread with a ladle in for us to help ourselves. We all had three helpings it was that good.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">Back at the Ostello we had spread our things around a six bedded room so that we could keep it to ourselves, and after a really good night sleep we all woke early to get a good start on the 32km walk ahead.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">As Radicofani is on a hill, naturally the first six kilometres was all downhill. The road being a mixture of walking on the grass verge by the road or on gravels tracks when there was the opportunity to leave the road behind. Part way down we came across a sheep that had escaped out the field. Carlo managed to open the fence enough for the sheep to get back in and I proceeded to try to round the sheep up. It had other ideas. Every time it tried to get back in the field the silly think just ran straight into the fence rather than through the gap that had been made. Eventually the sheep got fed up this game and ran like mad away from us, we gave up to but left the fence open. Hopefully it did not get run over.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">When we turned onto the main road and stopped going downhill the path again move away from the road and followed the river bed. It as easy going and it was nice to be safe from being run over by crazy Italian drivers.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">From following the river bed we turned left past the ancient village of Formone and once the home of a post station dating back to the thirteenth century and a chapel. Now it has been made into a modern home. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">There is a saying....what goes down must go up, and true to that from we started to ascend round the hillside and into the next valley. We were blessed with warm weather and very little clouds in the sky so we had spectacular views all around us of the Tuscan hillside as well as back to Radicofini every now and then.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">Italy is peppered with medieval buildings and ancient pathways, sadly all to many of them in a bad state of neglect or disrepair. We passed through a small farm and chapel that was once the site of the Hospice of Bricole and a major resting place on the Via Francigena. Among its guest, Phiippe Auguste, the King of France and Charles d'Anjou's troops in 1288.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">In the 10th century it was mentioned as Abricula by Archbishop Sigeric. The farmhouse is a derelict mess and the beautiful tiny chapel that still has traces of the original paintwork has sadly been used to house farm animals and is now just full of poo! Why o why......this could be such a wonderful treasure for Pilgrims to rest or pass through again for them to receive their vitals!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">By now it was getting towards midday and it was hot and humid and with the mention of lunch I explained that I was familiar with somewhere not too far away. We pressed on and soon cam to the spot, except it was not the one I had in mind. We stopped and despite the area having a fair scattering of dog poo, we were too hungry and foot wary to care. We just made sure that the pesky flies stayed away from any food. needless to say it was not too pleasant and we certainly did not take our time to each lunch. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">Before finishing two pilgrims came towards us also looking for somewhere to sit and eat, there was no space near us and feeling guilty mentioned that we had passed by somewhere close to where we were currently. I pointed the spot out, a shady place for two complete with a table and a view across the valley. It turned out that they were two American Pilgrims, but only walking a short section and only carrying day bags. Their main luggage being transported for them.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">After a quick lunch we left the dog poo and the dog to add to the collection.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">We pressed on continuing to wind our way through the hillside along the tracks, every now and then stepping to one side as a car appeared, past us and covered us in a shower of dust...... A bit like being crop sprayed every now and then. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">By late afternoon we descended the hills side and briefly up the up the other side of the valley to Vignoni Bagno, home to a thermal natural spa, a big posh hotel and a large square thermal pool around a courtyard. Claire was eager to paddle in it but it was not one of those places so instead we decided to go for a beer and put our feet up and rest for a while.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">With the heat of the day and being tired the beer soon left its mark on me and once my shoes were back on I rather squiffly got to my feet and set off on the final ascent of the day. 250 metres straight up to the village of Vignoni, a small ancient stronghold with a Romanesque parish church and a tower from the eleven century castle.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">By 4.30 we were entering San Quirico it origins being Etruscan and the earliest mention of it being in 712AD. Our home for the night would be in one of the medieval buildings above the tourist information office in the old part of the village.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;"><a href="http://www.abbeywalks.co.uk/">www.abbeywalks.co.uk</a></span>Happea Travellershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16870003987361121743noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7802512566465973982.post-38231695098555287582017-11-14T06:34:00.001-08:002017-11-14T08:45:30.429-08:00Stage 11. Not that way......but this one.<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">San Quirico to Ponte-d'Arbia, 27th October 2017</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">It was a 26km walk today so we were all awake by 6am, washed, packed and all ablutions just about completed and in the cafe for breakfast by 6.45. 7am saw us outside the church in Piazza Chigi raring to go and with the final photos in the bag, off we went.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">It was a mild morning for me, Claire was wrapped up prior to taking her clothes off enroute, as is the norm and Carlo, because he's Italian he kept saying it's chilly, allora it's chilly. We descended below the arched road that takes traffic into the town, that sweeps round in a majestic curve with its many arches.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">The guide book was easy follow and the Via Francigena signs were plentiful as we ambled through the morning air. There was the occasional buzzard calling in the sky and Carlo pointed out two Roe deer in the distance, before they skipped away. I mentioned that wildlife is not something that I have seen a lot of whilst walking in Italy, I'm not sure why.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">After 4km and still following signs we came to a junction and with no clear indication where to go we turned right. At the farm ahead Carlo asked about the Via Francigena and where was Torrinieri, a place we were to pass through. The farmer explained we could continue ahead but it was not the Francigena path. We retraced our steps and at a railway crossing, Carlo asked the same question of a workman. "Eye well tha nose, there's lots o paths round ear. Francigena passes around ear two but if it were me, but it's not, eye wood carry on up thee er to next village and paths thee er! "</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">Now I know he was not a Yorkshireman and we're not walking in Yorkshire, but I thought I would add the gist of what was said in my own words.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">We had clearly missed the turn off to the right and we're a bit confused as we had passed a number of signs leading this way. We pressed on knowing that we would eventually join the path. The original route did pass over the busy Via Cassia road further East and we did the same but only west. I decided to take the safe route and following the path under the road and as I made my way there came across a Via Francigena marker! Now I won't damage the readers eyes by putting into words what I may have said at that point in time, but Carlo beckoned for us to cross the road as it was quiet and we crossed over to the other side.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">Our journey continued following the occasional VF marker along rolling sweeping fields, barren from any crops but still exuding their own beauty in the colour of the soil and the contours of the land in the fields. We climbed and climbed the valley and after a few kilometres met up with the official route coming from our right.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">We gladly followed it into the town of Torrenieri and at a cafe decided to have second breakfast. I went inside with Carlo to order and Claire went in search of a bakery for supplies for the journey ahead. 10 minutes later she returned successful but apologetic that the bakery only had one type of bread. A hard crusty brick and white at that too. I'm not sure why but the Italians do seem to enjoy this type of bread and even more so...white bread. Claire and I enjoy the more majestic savouring of a good dark bread, brown/black with either seeds, grains and other sumptuous delights we may come across. The one we like also keeps you regular too, white bread just clogs your insides up like glue.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">Carlo mentioned that as he'd finished his coffee he would go in search of a sandwich and we should join him on the edge of the town. With coffees quaffed we donned our packs and went in search of him. I spied him ahead before he disappeared from view and we made our way to meet him. As we reached the crest of the main street we saw he'd entered the local coop, something Claire had not seen as she'd not ventured this far out of town. We went inside and at the bakery section decided to ditch the white bread in favour of Panne multicereal. I think our bodies were giving off sighs of relief as we paid for our goods.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">Our journey continued away from the village and by now it was around Pellegrini time, on this occasion our Pilgrims looked very different. The first a women carrying a decent size pack, suitably dressed and looking confident as she walked. The second, a man that looked as though he was drawing his last breath, very weather beaten looks and wrinkly (if I may say that?) and carrying the largest pack I'd ever seen. It not only looked as though it was heavy but the top part had a an unusual square wide top to it,</span><span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;"> </span><span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">was there a piano in there too?</span><span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">. He was also carrying a large plastic bag which gave the impression of being heavy too. His walked ever so slowly and carefully placed each foot down as he shuffled forward. We looked back in amusement half expecting him to have expired on the path, but he hadn't.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">We pressed on slowly ascending and winding our way through the undulating valleys with the sun providing some winter warmth so that one by one, in our time we stopped, removed a layer of clothing and then continued ahead comfy that we were not too hot or cold as we continued. The area we were passing through was called the Val d'Orcia an area that was added to the UNESCO World Heritage site in 2004. As we walked through it you could certainly understand how and why such a prestiges accolade has been given to the area.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">Before arriving in Buonconvento we traveled through the vineyards of Castello Altesi and the wine making factory and I'm always amused to see signs that invite Pilgrims in for an afternoon meal that includes wine. I wonder how many Pilgrims take up that offer? If I chose that detour I know that the rest of the afternoon would have to be written off for a cheeky sleep.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">The grape vines extend for 400 hectares and at the edge stands castle originally built in the thirteenth century by the Altesi family but not completed until 1441 by the Tricerchi family. It was used as a fortress for Pilgrims marching to Rome on the Fracigena road. IN 1982 it was declared as an artistic and historical heritage site and is an imposing vision along the path.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">The journey into Buonconvento took us along the Via Cassia once more. The village is described as one of the most beautiful in Tuscany but like most modern places it's a place of two halves. On the periphery is a modern urban sprawl that is just that. But at its heart is a medieval centre of narrow streets, old houses and obvious signs where horses were tethered in the streets. The name Buonconvento comes from the Latin "bonus conventus' which means "happy, lucky place".</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">We took advantage of two benches side by side and stopped for lunch. Once again the usual routine unfolded, boots off, empty plastic bags laid down as tablecloths, food spread out and me with penknife in hand liberally chopping everything that needed reducing in size. Once our appetites were sated, we packed up and headed for a coffee and another opportunity to take the boots off.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">By mid afternoon we were taking the final 90 minute walk through the heavy, thick wooden door in the archway of Porta Senese of the village and back out to the lush autumn countryside. We wound our way up and down hill, between fields now barren of any crops but still with their own beauty to reach the accommodation of the night - Centro Cresti, a big old farmhouse on the main road. Downstairs there is a large dining and sitting room with a huge industrial size kitchen. Upstairs there are several rooms all of different sizes and for our evening ahead, the house was teeming with Pilgrims from all nationalities - Canadian, American, Dutch, English and Austrian.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">We located some empty bunks and commenced with our own nesting process ready for a good nights sleep ahead.......hopefully.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;"><a href="http://www.abbeywalks.co.uk/">www.abbeywalks.co.uk</a></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;"><br /></span>Happea Travellershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16870003987361121743noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7802512566465973982.post-51420258192350684572017-11-12T08:17:00.008-08:002017-11-14T08:43:21.741-08:00Stage 9. The only way is up<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">Aquapendente to Radicofini, 25th October 2017</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">Distance from Rome: 200km</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">After a day's rest we are now three Pilgrims walking together. The previous night my good Italian Pilgrim friend Carlo Carli joined us and will be walking the next three stages with us to Siena, our next planned rest point.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">The day was going to be a tough one so we all set off bright and early after picking up food for the mid-day meal. Radicofini sits on the top of a hill and there were two ways to get there. The first route is along quiet country lanes and through fields but the total mileage would be 32 km. The second route meant walking the first 10 km along the busy Via Cassia road and reducing the total mileage by 7 km. We chose the shorter route!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">After only 2km we passed the first Pelligrini, three Italians going the other way, heads down and just getting on with the journey. We all called Buon Camoni across the traffic as it whizzed past.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">At the 4th kilometre Claire was undertaking the now familiar routine of taking her clothes off......I won't say much more because that way it's more fun just leaving the reader in suspense.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">We all pressed on walking in single file, heads down and also just getting on with it. There was the odd accession when there was a brief respite as we followed parts of the old road away from the new section. It was no more fun but at least there was no chance of us being run over. Conversation was limited to the odd occasion when it was safe to talk and by lunchtime we had reached the half way point, where we turned off the road and onto a gravel track that would take us nearly all the way to Radicofini.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">We stopped at the cafe and all refuelled. By now it was after Pelligrini time where we met others coming the opposite way. As we stepped onto the pavement a very smartly dressed gentleman stepped towards the cafe and I immediately detected and English twang. I bid the smartly dressed gentleman good day and he reciprocated. It transpired he had set off from London. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">Now as the three of us continued on our way, we all agreed that our English Pilgrim did not really look like a walker and certainly not one that had walked from London. I agree there is no such thing as the stereotypical long distance walker, but this gentleman looked as though he had just stepped out of his house complete with smart soft loafer shoes to walk in. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">The second half of the day involved a long slow uphill walk on a chalky stone pathetic was very slippery and steep in sections. The only real benefit of the section being the stupendous views we were rewarded with all around as we just climbed and climbed and climbed. Every now and then we did get a glimmer of Radocofoni on the horizon, way up in the sky and far away.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">The afternoon air was humid but there was the occasional relief of a gentle breeze as we climbed and climbed and climbed. Claire mentioned that the final part of the walk was almost equivalent to the height of climbing a small Munro (Scottish mountain) due to the height in meters we were ascending.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">Eventually by late afternoon we were making the final journey through the old gateway into the medieval street to reach the end of the stage. We were early to check in, so after taking photos of where we had just walked from we sat down for a glass of wine in the sun. Whilst sitting there a Hearst rolled up and parked outside the church where we were. The driver got out and he approached Carli and started chatting away.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">It transpired that the driver was also one of the caretakers of our pilgrim accommodation, he mentioned that he was busy with the funeral and apologised that he'd left the keys to our lodgings at home. He would go back and return within the hour. Mmmmmmm after nearly two hours, we were starting to get cold and fed up of waiting but he finally arrived. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica";"><span style="font-size: 12px;">We were grateful to be inside in the warmth and with all the formalities completed we settled into our own room, spreading ourselves across the various beds to make it look like it was a bit full. It's not the normal procedure for Pilgrim accommodation but as there were plenty of other rooms we did not feel guilty at our transgression.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica";"><span style="font-size: 12px;">I have had the pleasure of staying at this accommodation before, it is warm, very comfortable and has the added bonus of a decent kitchen for self caterers - we were not one of those.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;"><a href="http://www.abbeywalks.co.uk/">www.abbeywalks.co.uk</a></span>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;"><br /></span>Happea Travellershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16870003987361121743noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7802512566465973982.post-3859580729516191482017-11-01T06:22:00.002-07:002017-11-12T05:26:17.992-08:00Stage 8. Run, Forest........runStage 8. Bolsena to Aquapendente, 23rd October 2017<br />
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Distance from Rome: 168km<br />
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We had arrived in Viterbo the previous day and then spent nearly 2 hours deciding on accommodation. We were wet and tired and the thoughts of staying in the Covent with other Pilgrims in one room and nowhere to dry clothes put us off staying there.<br />
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I tried unsuccessfully to plead a bargain deal with the Zodiac hotel, somewhere I'd stayed previously, but I was unsuccessful. We did find somewhere else that offered rooms for €15, a good price, but when we asked for directions found that it was 2km further on to walk.<br />
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I'd past by a B & B next door to the convent, so with a script prepared, I called and was greeted by a very excited Italian Senora. Between both us I secured a good price that included breakfast and explained we'd be there in 5 minutes. Upon arrival the Senora was still excited and talked at hundred miles an hour and left me quite exhausted listening to her. We were shown to our room, a bit like Fawlty Towers, lovely green decor, some very inexpensive pictures probably from a car boot or from a grandparent left in a will! But on a positive note and something that was expressed throughout our stay..............it had a lovely balcony overlooking the Santa Cristi Piazze and the church.<br />
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Our breakfast was exceptionally brown, but Claire did manage to have a Latte prepared by me, in what could only be described as a soup bowl because only the English do mugs. Needless to say we soon left the place and made our way through the medieval town.<br />
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The route took us up a long flight of manageable steps to the castle at the top and there we were blessed with via Francigena signs everywhere, going in all directions and bearing no resemblance to my guide book. After some comings and goings and much scratching of heads we finally identified the way forward.<br />
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The day was going to be of two halves with an afternoon lunch stop at San Lorenzo Nuovo and today we were blessed with cloudless skies and an anticipated temperature around 24 degrees.<br />
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We took our time leaving the edge of the town, taking every opportunity of taking photographs back across to the castle and the lake below with a backdrop of a cloudless blue sky. Initially the journey was a slow steady climb past the Roman town of Volsnii near the site of the Etruscan settlement of Veltna, conquered by the Romans in 265 BC.<br />
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Within thirty minutes we were once again walking between olive groves interspersed with views to our left of the lake unfolding between its branches. Parts of the route were being cleared by a couple of the local people, we chatted away in our own languages and in-between laughing I offered to swap my pack to do some of the work.<br />
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It was easy going as we both settled into our walk routine of scouring the way ahead for the Via Francigena signs peppered in all manner of places, some easy to locate others just wrapped around the odd twig of a tree.<br />
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The final part of the journey to San Lorenzo was not that pleasant as it involved 3km of the very busy and windy Via Cassia road. There has been an ongoing dispute with a land owner over the rights of way of a track that runs through his land. Obviously his quite happy for walkers to be either run over or killed on the road.<br />
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In San Lorenzo Nuovo we met a Canadian family who had spent five months travelling, what a fabulous experience for the children. Mum and dad were carrying enough for all of them, their walk taking them from Siena to Rome - two weeks on the road with no electronic gizmos or gadget.<br />
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In the town we made our way to the cafe in the Piazza, ordered two beers and paninis for lunch and sat in the sun and just talked about nothing and something. As we sat we were reminded of the influx of immigrants in Italy as there was a small group in the square totally engrossed in their mobile phones.<br />
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After settling the bill we were back on the road, the way ahead I remembered as not that interesting as we would slowly wind our way around the fields to Aquapendente. How wrong I would be!<br />
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Part way through our journey along the fields Claire stopped to remove some articles of clothing......she's getting good at that as we walk together. Once dressed more comfortably we pressed on. About a kilometre further on Claire suddenly stopped...."my walking pole, where's my walking pole"? She exclaimed. "O know, I've left it back where we stopped"<br />
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Like a true gentleman I am, I quickly threw off my pack and ran all the way back there to retrieve the walking pole. Claire obviously thought this was a truly heroic deed as unbeknown to me she felt it was an appropriate opportunity to record my marathon sprint. I have to say having seen the video, I was quite good and my running style is very professional!<br />
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Once stick was retrieved we progressed through the fields and by late afternoon we had arrived at the hotel Il Borgo that was going to be our home for two nights.<br />
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<a href="http://abbeywalks.co.uk/">abbeywalks.co.uk</a><br />
<br />Happea Travellershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16870003987361121743noreply@blogger.com0