San Donnino part 2: Francigena interlude

Early Saturday morning I came out of our door a little after eight and was astonished to see the street clean and La Strega sedately serving coffee. Fidenza knows how to party and how to clean itself up afterwards.

I was out at this early hour to join Pam and a few other local exercise buffs for a walk along one small part of the Vig Francigena pilgrimage route, an event left over from the Via Francigena Festival a few weeks before. We gathered at the Piazza Grande, had our green passes checked, and took a van out to the little village of Castione Marchesi, about 8 kilometers (5 miles or so) away  There we disembarked and headed south to Fidenza on foot. 

We had excellent hiking weather that morning, overcast and a bit cool. As the Via Francigena heads across the Po Valley it's also ideal for us older trekkers, since the land is mostly flat as a pancake.

I think those are the Appenines in the distance, but don't quote me.

Almost all of our walk went through the farmland that surrounds Fidenza and other towns in this part of Emilia. We passed fields of alfalfa and cornfields that were being turned for next spring's crop. The crane by this barn is for an irrigation system.

Urban sprawl doesn't seem to be happening here, but it may start happening. We passed several barns and farmhouses that appeared to be abandoned.

No one home?

A railway station falling into ruins.

One thing I love about Italians is that food always seems to be on the agenda. Along the way our guide, Antonio, spotted some edible mushrooms he wanted to show us. ("I'd never eat anything growing along the road," the lady next to me sniffed.) 

We also saw a couple of hunters and their dogs out in a field, fortunately pointing their guns away from us. Others in our group, who sounded knowledgeable,  said they were hunting for pheasants or hares.

Although we were out in the country, we weren't on an unpaved track. The photo below is what a pilgrimage road in the country ought to look like, right? But it was just someone's driveway.

Instead pretty much our whole walk was on paved highways with no sidewalks and altogether very little room on either side. Despite their centuries-old history as routes for pilgrims and other foot travelers, these roads are not pedestrian-friendly.

Luckily there was very little traffic. But crossing this narrow-shouldered bridge over the busy autostrada was a little unnerving. Antonio took the lead and waved his neon-yellow vest whenever a car or truck came by to make sure they didn't accidentally mow us down.

Soon we could see the tower of a Fidenza church up ahead--not the Duomo, but St. Michael's at the other end of the oldest part of the city. It's poking up right in the middle of the photo below. 

A little while later we came out into the parking lot behind the train station. That's the back of the cemetery on the left. I found this juxtaposition--life and death, the excitement of going places and the tedium of stasis, the exhaustion of travel and the soothing prospect of eternal rest--a fitting finale to our excursion.

Back in downtown Fidenza we found the San Donnino festa once again in full swing, even though it was only 11 in the morning. Aperol spritzes (those bright orange drinks) are pretty low-alcohol, but still... 

After we thanked our guide and said good-bye to our fellow pilgrims, Pam and I made our way to a bar a little less central to the action. Even though there'd been no altitude involved, this was more walking than I'm used to and I needed a treat.

Our barista was happy to oblige with something a little less dionysiac than what the celebrants up the street were enjoying, though doubtless more caloric. I felt I'd earned it, though. I'd received my dispensation, and truly I felt blessed.