I’m working my way through the to-do list and back-home appointments (had a long dental visit on Thursday), while catching up on sleep and indulging in knitting and reading. My knee’s been acting up after the 250-ish kilometres I made it walk last month, and my physio prescribed three or four days with as little walking as possible. Good timing, since we’ve had days of heavy wind and rain — perfect for staying cozy!
And — keeping it real here — I’ve been coming to terms with how deeply tired I am. Broken sleep and waking before 5 doesn’t help, but I’ve been desperate for afternoon naps, and in bed by 9, asleep by 9:30. . . and still the fatigue hits. A function of being 70, or simply a natural consequence of having made a lot of demands on mind and body for those five travel weeks?
However, active life here is acquiring some momentum: I’m meeting my Italian class for lunch today; we’re having some family over for dinner tonight; and I’m back here again, putting some blog posts together. My October Reading post will be up in a few days, but meanwhile, I realized I had a substantial draft filed away, titled (as above), photos uploaded, and text written on the penultimate day of our walk from Lucca to Siena on the Via Francigena.
Waste not, want not, right? So I’ve tidied that post, filled it in where necessary, and I’m going to click “publish” today as a start at telling you about Walking the Via Francigena from Lucca to Siena.
Here it is, original text in italics, tidying and filling-in in regular font:
You should know that today we’re holed up in a (luxurious, by VF standards, but doesn’t run to tea or coffee fixings!) hotel room after a short walking day (9 kilometres) morphed into a slightly longer one when we took a wrong turn. Fortunately, we corrected ourselves within a kilometre, so the day’s total was still under 12K, not bad at all; unfortunately, the error happened just as the first rain of our walk got serious. In fact, we suspect we would have avoided the mis-steps if we hadn’t been hurrying to avoid a drenching.
And it turns out that as (relatively) luxurious as our day’s digs are, they’re inconveniently far from anything we might care to explore, nor is there anything to eat on the premises until dinner at 7:30. We arrived shortly before noon, so that was awkward. Paul volunteered (only option really, given my knee and blisters) to head back along the dangerous highway to bring back food. We’ve porchetta-panini’d to our satisfaction, and now are catching up on reading, organizing a bit, sketch-booking, and. . . yes, a bit of blogging.
Not with any cohesion, mind you. Just beginning to sort through photos and quickly record memories in my journal, and try to make sense of which town we walked through on which day, and what hotel was that again? Where did we have that gorgeous flan for lunch? That excellent ragu?
That’s as much text as I managed that afternoon, but I went through photos and chose ones that seemed representative of something about our experience over a week of walking together, with one last challenging day ahead. . . And then I packed away the laptop and we headed to the dining room where we found a corner table away from the huge tour group that had arrived by bus in time for aperitivi in the capacious lobby.
The next morning, we would walk along that busy road in rain on a perilously narrow verge for about a kilometre, twenty of the most miserable minutes of our week. . . and once back on the Via we would be strangely grateful for the steep but car-less hike up to the hilltop fortress town of Monteriggioni. Our last day was a very hilly walk through a beautiful countryside (including a section of nastily thick mud, surprisingly heavy when thoroughly embedded in a technical sole designed to enhance traction), 20-something kilometres that ended with us enjoying Aperol Spritzes in that stunning piazza in the middle of Siena.
But the afternoon before that, trying to capture highlights, I chose these:
This next photo, I think I just chose for the gorgeous colour of the soil in the farm landscapes we’d passed that day.
He’s consulting the Via Francigena app . . . we’ve just stopped for lunch. . . the two of us . . .
And the next photo? Well, if you can’t take goofy selfies when you’re walking 150 kilometres together and you’ve just left San Gimignano, what’s the point, really?!
And no, I’m really not a bubblegum-pink baseball-cap wearer, but needs must, and I hadn’t brought any head covering against the surprisingly warm October sunshine. . .
Which is funny, since I’d insisted this guy outfit himself with a Tilley (his next adventure demanded it, he’ll admit if pushed). . . so that I sometimes felt as if I were hiking with Crocodile Dundee or Indiana Jones. Exhibit A? By the beautiful Elsa River. . .
whose banks we walked along for several kilometres, and which we had to cross four or five times, on huge stepping stones. I was so very grateful for those thick steadying ropes. . .
Some nights we were too tired to venture far or dress up much for dinner, but that evening in San Gimignano, I followed “the man with the red pants” through narrow winding passageways (remember this post?) to a splendid meal.
He took photos of me, as well. The one of me crossing the river, obviously, taken for our Family WhatsApp page, so the kids and grandkids would all know that Mom/Nana is a Rock Star or BadAss (despite my reservations about the term, I’d say I came close on those stepping stones) or some such. And it turns out that many of the photos he took caught me sketching.
Because I was heading from the VF to a Paris Sketching workshop, I was determined to fill a sketchbook with our Italian adventures leading up to it.
I probably should have taken just a bit more time assessing this scene and figuring how to set it on the page (I would have zoomed out a bit, drawn it smaller). Hindsight. . .
I’m not especially satisfied with the sketch — except that it’s on the page. I did it, and I presumably learned something from sketching it, and I have a significantly sharper memory of that moment than I would have if I’d relied only on the photo.
I sat on gravel in very warm sunshine to sketch this ruin at Badia Pozzeveri a few days earlier, and I’m surprisingly pleased, still, with this sketch (and can still feel the imprint of the sharp pieces of gravel beneath my derrière — the French seems more polite, somehow 😉
The page has been updated since, with the addition of this text: “Thursday, October 12th, 2023. We walked from Lucca to Altopascio, about 19 kilometres, and at Badia Pozzeveri — where there is an ongoing archaeological investigation at the site of this ancient monastery (active since medieval period) — I sat my bum down on some sharp and uncomfortable gravel, and I sketched. I’d started the sketch standing, so lots of wonky lines, but bit by bit and mark by mark, something emerged on the page that I quite like. I waited until we got to the hotel before adding some colour with Caran d’Ache watercolour pencils and water-soluble ink. . . “
So far, I’m quite happy to leave the remaining uncoloured part of the sketch as is. . .
Rather as I’m leaving this post as is, with so much more that needs to be filled in if I’m going to tell you about the Via Francigena, while daily life here picks up its pace, and I have scarcely told you anything yet about the sketching workshop, my time in Paris, my train travels through Milan, Zurich, Geneva, Turin, etc.
Time to head out for lunch with my Italian classmates now, though, and leave Pater here to clean and cook in peace (seriously, most Saturdays while I do my Italian thing, he cleans. Not always the way I would, but don’t look a Gift Cleaner in the mouth, right?!).
Maybe you’ll leave a comment? I’d like that, and will be sure to respond now that I’m home with a bit more time on my hands. (How DO I fill my days?! Do you know that “that post” has now been viewed over 4500 times?! I’m astounded — and occasionally, if I’m honest, the tiniest bit rueful that I haven’t monetized that kind of traffic).
Ciao for now,
xo,
f
I also have a hubby who cleans when I’m out and about. Also, not always to my standard, but who am I to complain when I don’t have to do it myself?
So glad that you’re finding the time to share your European adventures here! And yes, crossing that river, even with ropes, is pretty BadAss! (Not a term I use often either, but it fits.)
Author
Thanks, Elaine! I have many friends (and definitely sisters and daughters) who would skip across those rocks, not bothering with ropes, but I definitely have a, let’s see, shall we call it “careful” streak!
I am fascinated by urban sketching and have done a bit over the years. However, I am not a traveler but a quintessential and unapologetic homebody (my daughter calls me a hermit). “Life sketcher” is a more apt description – recording the “everyday things” in ink and an ever-growing collection of water-soluble media (paint, pencils, markers, etc.) I don’t know what it is about your photos that I feel drawn to sketch some of them. I’ve sketched a few before and always tag you and your Instagram name. A question dear Frances, would you prefer that I ask permission first though?
Author
I enjoy your sketching very much, Cheryl, and applaud your choice of “everyday things” as subjects. I’m always a bit chuffed when I see that you’ve rendered a sketch from one of my photos, appreciate being tagged, but don’t feel offended that you don’t ask permission first. Thanks for asking.
I’m a tea-aholic and also recently returned from a trip to Europe, where I discovered in several towns that a certain large global coffee brand ( Starbucks) would very kindly allow me a cup of boiling water- and I always travel with my teabags now!
Author
Many tea-drinkers will be grateful for this travel tip, Rosemary. I had no idea — I’m assuming you’re buying a sandwich or baked treat to go with the boiled water. In fact, I could easily order a cup (or pot) of tea wherever we ate, but when I really missed it was in my room first thing in the morning or late afternoon.
Please delete one of these repeat comments (or both!), but this one might be better – you just get the idea!
https://www.amazon.fr/Zyyini-Thermoplongeur-Mini-chaudière-Réchauffeur-ébullition/dp/B07VWTQG2N/ref=sr_1_1_sspa?keywords=thermoplongeur+de+voyage&qid=1699811549&sr=8-1-spons&sp_csd=d2lkZ2V0TmFtZT1zcF9hdGY&psc=1
Hello Frances,
You ask the question is it this, or is it that that accounts for your fatigue as you adjust to your more usual routine, post trip? Of your 2 stated possibilities, I would firmly say it is the latter.
Think back when you badly injured your foot several months ago; when profound worries of it being your last opportunity for a big hike and feelings of overwhelm and fear overtook….then, flash forward several months and you managed 125k in 4 or 5 weeks, overcame jetlag, saw family, grandmothered to fill your heart, took a sketching workshop, traveled solo, reunited with your spouse, and returned to your cozy home in one piece. Then! are overcoming jetlag again. I know multiple people decades younger who a.)would not have “adventured” that far, ( or even dared to think of it), or, b. ) really important- held up so well. OR have come home with no achy body parts from the demand put on their body. A body that had much asked of it over a prolonged period).
Think you are a rock star. No, actually, I think you are a bad-ass rock star.
A.in London
Author
Thanks for the encouragement and the framing, A. I do think that the crammed-full-of-activity nature of the last month explains much of the fatigue, but I’m also starting to learn the contours of this decade and suspect it might be having some effect — which I hope to adapt to gracefully, but not prematurely or unduly, if that makes sense.
(and thanks for the wording for my next t-shirt 😉
Thank you for sharing your thoughts, photos and sketches. Just beautiful!
I agree with you about leaving that one partly uncoloured-it tells an interesting story.
I loved your VF musings! We have often had similar experiences when we’ve arrived at our accommodation too early…it’s made us do a little bit of preparation along the way, knowing that we can’t wait till the evening for food!
I’m with you on the tea drinking!!
Author
We’ve definitely made a note to do that in future, Genevieve. A day’s hike can make for a ravenous appetite, right?!
so impressed by your fortitude in crossing that river, and more than once! and also your sketching. as always enjoying the vicarious adventure.
Author
Honestly, Darby, it looks much more challenging that it was — the nervous crossings I made in my mind before we actually saw this consumed a foolish amount of energy 😉
So enjoyed your post. I think fatigue/jet lag is to be expected. You did a lot in a fairly short period. Don’t be hard on yourself. Love your sketching and watercolours. Looking forward to hearing about your Paris stay.
Author
Thanks, Lesley. The fog’s beginning to lift and my knee’s feeling better today. . . I do think that jet lag at 70 is much different than it was at 40, 50, or even 60. But then, why shouldn’t it be? And at least now I have time to indulge the fatigue instead of heading to work or getting kids to school.
What a wonderful adventure!
Chapeau,you bad-ass rock star !!!(brava A. in London!)
I would have stayed at the first river crossing
This photo of your shadows…..like medieval pilgrims-amazing!
Dottoressa
Author
I love your perception of that photo, thank you!
You must have experienced so many micro-changes of landscape that would have been invisible if not on foot. The changing soil colours and textures, the vegetation by the side of the way, even the sudden micro-climates encountered. A real sense of being in the landscape rather than travelling through it.
Did you get into any conversations with passers-by/fellow diners because of it?
Unsolicited advice time – do you think napping could contribute to not getting deeper sleep? It can have that effect, no matter how much we feel we need it during the day.
My husband cleans much better than I do and I’m happy for him to do it – it’s really not a role that I feel protective about. I’d rather be in the garden 🙂
Agree with A in London that you’ve done a phenomenal amount on this trip so a little weariness is to be expected and self-care prioritised.
Author
It’s true, there are so many micro-environments along the way, and when we pass by on a bike or in a car, it’s much harder to notice them.
And yes, we did have some good conversations with a few fellow walkers.
There is not much to say that previous comments have already expressed, but I have to chime in with a big bravo! And with a great quantity of gratitude for all you share.
Also, as someone who seems to be traveling a lot since retiring 4+ years ago, it is lovely to return home yet oddly exhausting to recover and simultaneously readjust to home. Be gentle with yourself.
Author
You’ve got it exactly: it’s lovely to come home, but it is “oddly exhausting,” the readjustment, the integration of what we’ve experienced. And gentleness is what I need, thank you!
I enjoy your posts so much! What a wonderful trip… lovely photos, and that sketch of the monastery really spoke to something in me. It’s beautiful! Well done, you!
Author
So pleased to know you’re enjoying these posts. Thanks, Donna!
Lovely photos. I hope I would have followed you over the stepping stones but I’m not sure . I like that most of your photos are unposed , natural shots & I look forward to more . We’ve had a tiring few days too . They included an iPad dropped , broken then mended . Six mice caught in the house or possibly, as we use humane traps , one mouse caught six times ? A bottle of good wine overturned & smashed . A fish pie slipped coming out of the oven – the dog enjoyed that one . And now this morning we have two trees down after the latest storm whipped through last night . Just life going on I suppose but it’s definitely more tiring than it used to be .
Author
Wow, Wendy! That’s too much! I hope life settles a bit around you (and so sorry about those trees — did they damage much on their way to the ground?)
No , luckily the 100 year old hawthorn hedge broke their fall & at least it means more logs for the fire in a couple of years time .
Author
Whew! Glad to hear it!
Such an adventure, relationally, creatively, physically, every single which way. I am so glad you’re sketching regularly. Your work really adds to my experience of your travels.
Author
Thanks, Lisa! It was an adventure in all those ways, yes!
Jet lag on my return from Japan last week has been brutal. But the last time I went was ten years ago for my 60th so I think that comes close to being the answer. Surprisingly the lag on the way out, eastwards, was quite mild. We were awake for 25 hours straight but slept well that night and I think that Adrenalin and new experiences propelled us for the rest of the time. Returning to all the daily difficulties has taken its toll and sleep is elusive.
Author
Yes, I’ve noticed some changes in fatigue/energy levels between 60 and 70! And I find the same as you do — the adrenaline and new experiences make the jetlag on the way out much quicker to overcome than on the way back (although the first day — and trying to wake up after the first night’s sleep, OOF!).