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“A journey is best measured in friends, rather than in miles.” Tim Cahill
After taking several days off so I could rest, we are (FINALLY!) hiking once again! 🥾 What a privilege it was.
Unfortunately, in order to stay on track to finish by mid-September, we’ve had to skip several sections (it’s beginning to feel like the 1980s movie Planes, Trains, and Automobiles), and quite a few miles and kilometers of the trail. It’s beyond disappointing, especially after putting so much time and energy into this journey, but I’m reminding myself that this isn’t a race, and it’s not a competition. It’s an experience. The good. The bad. The ugly.
The numbers don’t really matter. It’s the moments and memories that do.
The kilometers we walked, the sections we skipped, the days we rested, and the distance still ahead of us don’t define the journey. We are doing the best that we can. What matters is that we are here, that we’re continuing, and that we’re doing what we need to do to take care of ourselves along the way.
And through all of this, Massimo has been an incredible. He has managed to keep an optimistic and positive attitude during what has been a very frustrating and unfortunate stretch for both of us. He has encouraged me when I’ve been discouraged (on several occasions), kept me laughing when I probably needed it most, and generally been a constant source of entertainment while I’ve been recovering.
Honestly, I’m not sure how I would have survived these last few days without his crazy Italian shenanigans.
I made a little video of some of the outtakes. Consider it a small glimpse into what happens when you spend nearly every waking hour traveling with someone.
Basically, you lose your mind. Apologies in advance for the multiple middle fingers 🖕to the camera – but hey, it’s authentic and real.
Massimo is once again the hero of the day (it must be exhausting being so perfect). While I was resting, he surprised me with an email…he wrote a summary of today’s hike and sent it in a message so I didn’t have to stress about writing a post for tonight.
So, please enjoy his recap of today’s walk.
First is his version in Italian and then the English translation.
🇮🇹 Oggi siamo ripartiti.
Incrociando le dita (delle mani, dei piedi, e potendo anche qualcos’altro) Emily sembra star meglio, anche se è ancora presto per dire che è passata.
Comunque siamo ripartiti; la tappa è breve e non difficile, il che è un bene; dopo più di 2 settimane passate con addosso un’infezione non era proprio il caso di esagerare.
Ce la siamo presa comoda, almeno per i miei canoni, ma si sa che le donne hanno i loro tempi; Emily fa eccezione in molte cose, ma in questa mi pare di no.
Il percorso è diviso in due parti; la prima dentro una foresta mista, per lo più querce, la seconda su crinali di colline, in parte incolte in parte coltivate a granturco.
Fossero coltivate a viti potrebbe sembrare di essere in Toscana, a parte il fatto che la zona è come al solito poco abitata; fra l’inizio e la fine della tappa ci sono solo poche case isolate.
All’inizio abbiamo incontrato più volte un paio di runner, probabilmente marito e moglie, che si allenavano facendo avanti e indietro sul percorso; per il resto la solitudine e gli spazi regnano sovrani.
L’ideale per apprezzare ciò che manca a gente di città, cioè il silenzio; un silenzio che è fatto di rumori che non si è abituati a riconoscere: il vento, gli animali, il proprio respiro e la regolare, abituale e continua cadenza dei tuoi passi.
Arriva il caldo, ma si avvicina la meta; entriamo nel villaggio e veniamo accolti dalla proprietaria della casa dove alloggeremo che dopo averci offerto da bere e qualcosa da mangiare (ho mangiato pannocchie di granturco cotte; è la prima volta con gran sorpresa di Emily, ma si sa che in America in quanto a cibarie……) ci ha presentato le sue bellissime bambine di 6 e 9 anni e il marito, parroco locale.
Emily ha ancora qualche problema e si deprime un po’, ma poco perché inizia subito a provocarmi; penso si stia preparando a massacrarmi a Machiavelli come al solito.
Comunque incrociamo ancora le dita e speriamo bene, che domani la tappa è lunga.
….
🇺🇸 Today we set off again.
Fingers crossed (and toes, and if possible, something else too), Emily seems to be feeling better, although it’s still too early to say that she’s completely over her illness.
Anyway, we’re back on the trail. Today’s stage was short and not difficult, which is a good thing; after more than two weeks of carrying an infection around, it really wasn’t the time to overdo it.
We took it easy, at least by my standards, but as we all know, women have their own pace. Emily is an exception in many things, but apparently not in this one.
The route is divided into two parts: the first through a mixed forest, mostly oak trees, and the second along the ridges of hills, some uncultivated and others planted with corn.
If they were planted with grapevines, it could almost feel like Tuscany, except that, as usual, the area is very sparsely populated. Between the beginning and end of the stage, there are only a few isolated houses.
At the beginning, we repeatedly encountered a couple of runners, probably husband and wife, who were training by running back and forth along the route. Other than that, solitude and open space reign supreme.
It’s the perfect setting for appreciating what city people are missing: silence. A silence made up of sounds that you aren’t accustomed to recognizing; the wind, the animals, your own breathing, and the regular, familiar, continuous rhythm of your footsteps.
The heat arrived, but the destination was getting closer. We enter the village and were welcomed by the owner of the house where we are staying. After offering us something to drink and something to eat (I ate cooked ears of corn; it was my first time, much to Emily’s surprise…but, as we know, when it comes to food in America……), she introduced us to her beautiful six- and nine-year-old daughters and her husband, the local parish priest.
Emily is still having a few problems and gets a little sad, but not for long because she immediately starts teasing me. I think she’s getting ready to massacre me at Machiavelli, as usual.
Anyway, fingers crossed once again, and let’s hope for the best – tomorrow’s stage is a long one.
During our days off, when I wasn’t sleeping, we played many games of Machiavelli. My lead is becoming substantially larger. I may be sick, but I still hate to lose. ♠️♥️♣️♦️
Machiavelli Scoreboard:
Massimo: 13 | Emily: 21
Much love & gratitude. Namaste 🙏
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I cannot believe this man has NEVER eaten corn on the cob. Has he been living under a rock?
