For the past week we have been planning our route, our stays, what we see, what we will do, always mindful of the impending doom that overshadows all. It is approaching, like an oncoming freight train and we are tied to the tracks.
“They are coming”.
Millions of them, threatening to attack us from above, surround us from below-overwhelm us. We have been warned and we are making preparations, but our sunny afternoon lunches lounging on dry ground in hillside olive groves are coming to an end. The weather is changing. The rainy season has caught up with us.
Monday-0.45”
Tuesday-0.65”
Thursday -1.65”
Friday-1.0”
Saturday-0.55”
Sunday-0.25”
We have two sunny, warm days left. We will make the most of them.
With no place to stay in the two towns within walking distance if we go forward, Ceselli or Macenano, we are forced to backtrack down the mountain to Spoleto. This was our original plan, so the disappointment factor is low.
We are still waking up at 4:00am. This gives us time in the morning to read and plan. We think this early wake up routine is party due to jet lag messing with our internal clocks and partly because we are so dead tired at the end of the day we are in bed and ready to sleep by 8:30. Another factor is the season. It is dark here by 5:15pm. Age a factor? Naaaaah.
Breakfast was served at 7:30 down in the dining room. Same table as last night. Delicious pastries and tea. Only Sally and I again. Back up to our room, we lounged for an hour before completing our packing and cleaning the room and heading back down to the lobby. Both the man and women were in attendance as we exited the door and descended the steps out front. They were very kind throughout our stay.
We started back down the trail we ascended yesterday. It seemed a steep trail going up yesterday, it seemed steeper going down today.
About 2/3 of the way down we saw a 40 something woman coming up. Another pilgrim on the trail!! Jennifer is from Germany, 40 years old and doing 40 Km a day. We stopped and chatted for 15 minutes. She was quick to laugh and fun to meet.
Back across the Ponte Della Torri and up to a bridge view cafe for a Coke. I texted Feliciti to ask if we could get in the room at noon (same as two day’s ago). She said yes. It was only 10:15. We enjoyed a relaxing hour an a half in the glorious sun and cool air researching and reading.
After getting the key from Feliciti and dropping my pack in the room we applied the most important find of our research-we walked to a Donar Kebab restaurant for lunch. We walked in the door and saw the familiar column of meat(?) spinning in the corner. In our excitement, Sally ordered a burrito style, I the taco style, forgetting how big they are. We both suffered the consequences of eating too much.
It was nice that the Donar Kebab place was right on the way to the train station. We were heading there to check it out and to verify a bus route to Ceselli in the morning.
We both had worn our jackets when leaving the apartment but the day was warming far beyond expectations for a mid November day. It was 66°. We tied our jackets around our waists. Sally took her hat off, too.
A word about Sally’s hat. This is a loose knit beret style black hat. You may have noticed it in some of the photos. This is a replacement for one she lost a few months ago. She loves this hat. When touring St Francis’s Basilica 10 days ago she suddenly noticed she had dropped it somewhere in our wandering in the massive church. She sat. I ran back, retracing our meandering path like a bloodhound on the scent of a coon. Miracle of miracles, I found it in the pews. I could swear it was knealing on the prayer boards . . . praying for a miracle to be found?
At the train station we found the tobacco shop closed at 1:00. It was 1:05. This is the place to buy tickets and get information. We wandered over to some parked buses and talked to some drivers, but the language barrier stopped us from getting any real information. We had a bus we wanted to take, E401 at 6:30am, we just wanted to verify its existence because it showed on some transportation apps and not others.
Unsatisfied, we headed back toward upper town. If the bus came at 6:30, we would be on it. If not, we could always take a taxi. More expensive, but doable.
We decided the Donar Kebab was so good we should get one for lunch tomorrow. We stopped in and had him make us one with the bread separate and the internal fixings in a plastic take away box.
It was at this moment that Sally discovered she no longer had her hat. She retraced her actions, but couldn’t recall where she might have left it. The grocery store? The park bench by the busses? She surmised that her hand, which is somewhat numb due to her neck issues, just released it and she didn’t notice.
While waiting for our Kebab to be prepared I retraced our steps once again while Sally waited, but not all the way to the train station, now about half a mile away. No sign. The hat was lost. Not even a miracle could save it.
With our lunch for tomorrow in hand, we walked and escalated back to our room to rest.
About a week ago I bought an ESIM for Sally’s phone online with company Windtre. I could not get it to activate. I spent far too much time trying, but to no avail. While at the Kebab place I noticed a Windtre shop across the square. Of course, it was closed, being midafternoon, but I resolved to return to it after four when it opened.
Sally accompanied me to the shop, us arriving about five. Phone stores are horrible, just horrible. Always a line. Poor service. I had low expectations. After waiting 15 minutes for the clerk to complete a transaction with one elderly woman I approached the counter while Sally sat at the back of the store on a stool, ready to spring into action if needed. I presented my situation about not being able to activate her phone. I presented all the emails with the codes. In short, he couldn’t help me. Store accounts are somehow different than those obtained on line. He said call the online help number 159. I stepped out of the store and called it while Sally looked for, and found a new hat. It was all in Italian. I returned to the store over Sally’s objections. He looked annoyed upon seeing my return. I explained I dialed the 159 number and it was all in Italian. I couldn’t understand a word. He asked what I wanted him to do about it. I said call the number and present my case and activate my phone. He gave me a tired look and typed into the translation app “I have enough work to do.” Well, this experience met my expectations. No service, neither for Sally phone nor for me as a customer.
We cooked cauliflower for dinner, still suffering from our Kebab lunch. After eating we found three of five bus scheduling websites that indicated our 6:30am Saturday morning bus was real, Moveit, Google Maps and Salgo. We would rise at 5:00am, leave the apartment by 6:00, escalate and walk to the train station and wait for our magical and ethereal 6:30 non-stop bus to little Ceselli. With that we watched an episode of “The Diplomat” and fell asleep, dreaming of past sunny days and waking to night terrors of torrential rains.
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