Began todays’s walk at 5:45 a.m. behind Roberta and ahead of Gord (Canadian from Vancouver). The plan agreed to with Roberta was that we would meet at the first bar for a caffe and brioche.

Once again, the local Via Francigena organizers decided to amuse themselves sending us through the bush. This isn’t ever good, but even worse in the morning as it leaves our clothes and feet soaking wet from the dew. Wet feet are a hikers enemy because they lead to blisters.

Other than the bushwhacking to start the day, the morning was beautiful and uneventful.

As planned, I found the first bar/cafe’ in the first town with services, Miradolo Terme, and grabbed an espresso con zucchero (with sugar) and a pistachio brioche (croissant). No Roberta in sight so I march on and bump into Gord as I exit the piazza in this tiny town. We exchange hellos as he’s headed to the cafe.

As I approach the town of Chignolo Po, the tower I’ve been seeing for many miles beings to come into view. I discover the tower of Castello di Chignolo Po.

The tower in the back was built in the 8th c., while the current castle/palace complex dates from the 17th c. In the early 18th c. the fortress was turned into a palace that hosted celebrities of the time, earning it the name The ‘Versailles of Lombardy.’ The buildings currently serve as a convention center and exhibition space (www.castellodichignolopo.it).

As my walk continues, I begin to see the first vineyards I’ve seen in days and I receive a peek at the Tuscan Hills to the southwest. These are encouraging developments.

I roll into Orio Litta and stop in the only cafe in town and Roberta is still no where to be found. No sooner than I sit down at a table, she rolls in convinced we took different trails. We compare notes. Apparently, she stopped twice and we missed one another. Andrea rolls in five minutes later and we find a nice patio out back (both my traveling companions smoke; I don’t yet smoke) to enjoy the end of our journey today.

Our hostel is very nice. It’s also very full. Twelve pilgrims tonight.

We (6 of us) wrap-up our day back at the only bar in town eating pizza made at a restaurant across the street while the proprietor of this bar opens up his tables to us and serves us beer. We’re watching the open ceremonies for the Paris Olympic Games. Full stop. I’ll say it again: I’m in the only bar in this small Italian town (plenty of local Italians), with three Italians in our party – one of which lives in Paris, two Canadians and me. Mark (one of the two Canadians) and I are sitting next to one another asking each other if this is real.

An evening I won’t soon forget…