Via di Francesco, Day 14: Tenuta di Biscina - Valfabbrica

Tuesday, June 6
13.7 km
230 m

Sometimes you have to take the easy route. That's right: It's not always about challenging yourself, climbing to the top of the mountain, or seeing the sweeping views. It's also not always about walking in the footsteps of the past, or being the best at anything. Sometimes, it's just about making it to the end, in one piece, with your dignity, and sense of childlike wonder, still intact. So today, we took the easy route.

We could have climbed a big, beautifully wooded hill for stunning views of the valley. Instead, we took the level, paved road. It was 3 kilometers shorter, it saved 200 meters in elevation gain, and we walked the final stretch of country road into town whistling, marveling at the beautiful golden fields, instead of sweating and groaning.

When we arrived in Valfabbrica, we were greeted by the tiniest, most cheerful, fastest talking nun in white we'd ever seen. She escorted down a hallway of empty dorm rooms, past dozens of bunk beds with blue coverlets, to a small room overlooking the street.

Once there, she rapid-fired questions and instructions at me, which I quite obviosly only understood about a quarter of. Shaking her head, she tucked my hand under her arm and lead me back down the stairs to the front door. "English," she said, pointing to a hand written sign. The sign instructed pilgrims to leave the door ajar, so they could come and go without a key. Satisfied, she stamped our credentials and left us to our riposo.

Two hours later, our pilgrim friend Christine arrived, and the tiny nun repeated the performance as I translated as best I could. This time, there was a good deal more information about when she would be gone and the door locked, for prayers and mass, and when and how we might return. I did my best, and when I had exhausted my language ability, I did the easy thing: I smiled and nodded. Satisfied, she showed Christine to a room and wished her a "buon riposo."

As we all left for dinner later, I sincerely hoped I'd understood her correctly and we weren't going to be locked out of the convent (and our beds) for the night. Like our easy route from this morning though, everything worked out: at 9 pm, we rang the doorbell and were welcomed home by our ever-cheerful host.