⚜ Avvisi

Day 2 - Pilgrim mode and hospitality

Altopascio → San Miniato (31 km)

“Calma, calma, calma” Pascuale kept telling me, as I hurried to dinner. He invited us, the group of pilgrims, to come inside and help him set up the table. Then he swung a back door open and there it was: the long table ready for us in a small garden outside.

“Ho scherzato,” he said, proud of his joke. The table was ready: 10 seats, lit candles, wine and home-cooked food by him and his wife, Gabrielle. Dinner commenced. In between courses, Pascuale tapped my shoulder and told me with authority that I need to put on some weight. I was sitting right in the middle between the English and Italian conversations. In the latter, we picked up on a set of habits that I’d call “pilgrim mode”. It’s that small-town friendly attitude, saying hello to passerbys, stopping to ask a question or comment on the surroundings. There’s no ultimate goal behind it, just a good old dose of curiosity, respect and humbleness. That’s pilgrim mode and I wish we could go into it more often when we return to “our lives” after a walk (isn’t this also part of our lives?).

At the start of this walk, I asked myself: “What’s worth preserving?”. The space that Gabrielle & Pascuale created through their hospitality is one of them. And it was all voluntary. They were there for a week and they clock about 5 of them a year. It’s a selfless act that enables people like me to walk and blabber about it. It’s the magic of a table well-set.

If you missed the other two avvisi, these are the links for Day 0 and Day 1. Today, we’ll be brief, thanks to the thunderstorm that woke me up at 4:30 a.m. As I couldn’t go back to sleep, I rolled from one side to another and wondered about the 31 km ahead of me. Would I be able to finish them?

After breakfast and thanking the hosts for their hospitality, I set off. After breakfast and thanking the hosts for their hospitality, I set off. The sky had cleared and drops of water were still falling underneath the trees. My sleep deprivation manifested in finding soft moss on the trees in Altopascio and rubbing it. Locals looked at me like their next step was to call the carabinieri.

At exactly 9:10 a.m., a car drives by and blasts through the speakers: “Raccolate fiero vecchio”. Should you go to Cairo, you don’t need an alarm clock. The morning prayer call wakes you up. But, if you’re really tired and sleep until about 10am, you will hear men on the streets shouting: “ROBABEKYA, ROBABEKYA, ROBABEKYA”. They’re after any scraps they can get their hands on. The word in Egyptian Arabic comes from the Italian “roba vecchia” - old stuff. That’s your random fact of the day.

In no particular order, today I passed a Medici bridge, a rooster showing off his singing, ferns, so many ferns, rows of birch trees, a disused boat and these Tuscan trees. I succumbed to the green and the shade of the forest. I was partially thankful to the thunderstorm.

And then, all the ferns ended. I was back in the frying pan. Hot, hot, hot. The sun was sizzling. By 3pm, I was exhausted. But over the trees, at the top of the hill I could see my destination: San Miniato and its towers.

I will leave you with an original avviso from the 16th century, relevant to tonight’s place of rest.

March 12th 1588

From: Ferdinando I de’ Medici

To: Fra Bongianni di Piero Gianfigliazzi

Ferdinando I explains his choice of superintendent for the fortress at San Miniato. King Felipe II’s council criticised his choice. Ferdinando retorts that an Italian, Luigi Dovara, was chosen instead of a Spaniard.

The reason? The only Spaniard in his service is Antonio de Austria, a buffoon.

I guess I’m a buffoon as well, thinking I could write much after a lack of sleep and 31 km. We’ll fix that tomorrow, pending the weather forecast.

Don’t let any thunderstorms keep you awake,

Florin