Chuck's News: Saturday, November 15, 2025 - “The Relic” - Spoleto to Arrone - 11.41 miles point to point (ptp), 13.3 miles total

Saint Anthony has become our best friend. He has performed two miracles that both Sally and I have witnessed, reestablishing his sainthood status, but also leaving behind a relic for us to marvel at and behold. Let the story unfold . . .

Three different transportation web apps told us there was a bus arriving at the Spoleto Train Station at 6:30am this morning even though the tourist information office and bus drivers we interviewed did not know of its existence. If it did indeed exist, it was the perfect bus for us-pick us up at 6:30am, toodle around the countryside a bit going to some cool looking hill top towns and then drop us in Ceselli (smaller than Vader, WA) at 7:10am. Perfect.

We set our alarm for 5:30am knowing we didn’t need to because we wake at 4:00am anyhow. We were up, me writing my blog and Sally reading at 4:30am. By 6:00am we were breakfasted and out the door, heading to the escalators to take us down to the bottom of this hill town.

We rounded the corner of the street and turned to enter the doorway to the elevator that drops you down the the escalators and were momentarily confused. Where was the door? Oh no! It is shut and locked. A sudden panic instantly quelled and a quick mapping to the train station with Apple Maps and we were rapidly descending the streets of this hill town. We had planned our timing with plenty of leeway but that was figuring in the escalators to move us quickly. It might be a bit tighter. The app said we would arrive at 6:21am, so no problem. Sally had her headlamp on to help see the many imperfections in the pavement to avoid turned ankles.

We made the bottom of town in short order and were walking the same sidewalks to the train station we had walked yesterday afternoon, scanning the pavement in the improbable chance we would find Sally’s hat. No chance. Because of the traffic yesterday we didn’t cut across the traffic circle in front of the station with the 30 foot high, metal sculpture in it, so when I saw a dark black lump under it I guessed it to be a pile of dog poop, but I approached it with a keen eye in the dark.

I started laughing, not believing what I was seeing. The second miracle of our trip!! Both involving Sally’s hat. There it was, lying on the pavement under the sculpture, in a place we had not walked, yet right in our path for the morning, as if asking us to pick it up and shelter it. Sally was wondering why I was laughing and became concerned about my sanity until she beheld the little miracle on the ground. Then she started giggling too. She loved that hat and was sad to have lost it, but here it was, found, a little dirty and sporting twigs and other tree detritus. How did it get here? How did it get so dirty? What adventures did it have in the last 16 hours? We picked it up and stuffed it in a pocket of my pack. We would clean it later. Saint Anthony, the saint of finding lost things was watching over this little hat.

With the miracle behind us, we waited the ten minutes to see if our bus would arrive or was a taxi ride in our future.

6:30am came and went, but at 6:34 a bus approached bearing E406 on its front placard. We asked the driver if he was headed to Ceselli. He said yes. We boarded, paid our €6, although we got the impression from his body language that he didn’t care if we paid or not and we settled into our empty bus.

We special.

Our own private bus, chartered for €6 to take us to Ceselli after first taking us on a tour of the surrounding area for 40 minutes.

On schedule the driver dropped us at Ceselli, a town about half the size of Vader, WA. He willingly posed for a photo as we exited the bus. We could have ridden it another 200 yards up our side road to walk on, but we chose to get off at the crossroads.

The bus traveled under the mountains we were to hike over in a many mile long tunnel and dropped us in a new river valley. Instead of the flat five mile wide river plain we had been hiking along we were now in a narrow valley with just a hundred yards of flat ground between the soaring mountains, the Nera River flowing swiftly down its bottom. Instead of climbing high up the hillsides of the valley as we had the previous five days we stuck to the river bottom, often only a few feet from the creek which was about 20-30 feet wide, averaging 1-2 feet deep and flowing swiftly.

For next hours we walked down this road paralleling the creek, sometimes gravel, sometimes mud, sometimes paved. It was absolutely beautiful with the mountains towering above the valley to the right and left, the creek alongside, birds chirping, the sun slowly emerging from behind high clouds and working its way down to the valley floor as the hours progressed. Stunning.

We stopped in the town of Precetto to eat our Donar Kebab lunch on a park bench. This town is perched right where the narrow valley comes out of the mountains and spills onto a wider river bottom. To control trade up the narrow valley up river of the town they built ramparts and forts on the steep sides of the valley. The one on the north side is now supported by steel I beam columns to keep its sides from crumbling onto the houses below.

The valley was now about a mile wide. Our path was down a gravel road to the east of the main arterial running up and down the valley. Occasionally we had locals walking or cyclists pass us in both directions. We walked through the northern half of Arrone, getting a bit confused as to our route through town, then walked about a mile further to the southern part of the town where are room was for the night. We turned off our route and walked along the highway, approaching a large grocery store. Our room was just a few 100 yards ahead. Sally suggested we stop and buy food, I thought it best to check in and see what kind of kitchen our room had before we bought food. Wisely, she pointed out it was 12:45 and the store would likely close at 1:00, leaving us without food until it reopened at 5:00. Smart woman I am traveling with.

We approached the store through the parking lot and found volunteers running a food donation effort at the entrance. One of the workers greeted us, recognizing our pilgrim status. He was very kind, giving us information and talking about the walking in broken Italian and English. We used the interpreter on our phones to fill in the gaps. It is amazing how the first person you meet when entering a town can set the impression for the whole town. This must be a very friendly place.

The store stayed open all afternoon, letting us go check in before buying food. We walked the additional 200 yards down the sidewalkless highway, entered a pastry shop and inquired. They pointed us across the highway. Here we found Gina, a 70 year old woman to check us in. After taking photos of our passports and some small talk she lead us outside and up a flight of stairs to our apartment for the night. It was spacious and spartan, but had heat, a kitchen, a bed and a bathroom with shower. Perfect. She didn’t have Internet in her place, but gave us a WiFi hot spot that used her phone account. It worked, although somewhat limited.

She mentioned something about leaving the key in the door. When she left we found out what she meant. No matter how we twisted turned and pulled, the key would not come out of the door. No way to lock up. Oooops.

We returned to the store and bought potatoes and eggs to go with the sausage I have been carrying for dinner and some food to give to the food bank volunteers.

Back “home” we cooked and ate dinner and lamented about the upcoming change in the weather We were hoping St. Anthony would come through for us with another miracle and find the lost good weather, but the forecast said otherwise.

An episode of The Diplomat and we were asleep.