Day 20 Pissignano: an amusing evening after a beautiful hike

The pilgrimage route has changed significantly since Assisi. You no longer walk through the mountains, but along the edge of the mountains. The hikes are easy, there are no longer any steep inclines. But it is no longer as quiet and tranquil here. The roar of traffic is still a constant companion today.

Trevi, medieval town in a prominent location

The guide says that Trevi's old town is one of the most beautiful in Italy. I think that's an exaggeration. But tourists seem to like this description. There are plenty of them in the city.

What I like about Trevi is its exposed location. Visible from afar, the old town nestles against the mountain ridge. But in the alleys, Trevi is not much different from other cities I have seen.

I think the view of the valley is more beautiful today. Industrial buildings and urban sprawl no longer dominate the picture. On this stretch, the valley is greener and more fragmented due to the diversity of nature. Everything seems particularly lively thanks to the many scattered cypress trees.

Rain is with me all day today. It's particularly bad in Trevi: the only option left is to go to a bar. Espresso and brioche. After an hour, I look out the window: the weather is improving. Put on my backpack, throw on my poncho and go outside. Five minutes. Even heavier rain, this time with thunder. Into the next bar. Espresso again, and this time an ice cream. And because you're taking up four chairs with your wet clothes, you have another drink. I haven't spent as much money in bars in three weeks as I have today alone.

Olive trees as far as the eye can see

The signposts are now becoming increasingly sparse. And it is difficult to find the right path between the olive groves (which are interspersed with small paths for cultivation), even with GPS.

A young man sends me up the mountain, saying it's beautiful there. And I'll reach my destination there too. It's a detour, but it's actually the most beautiful part of the day. The views are wonderful.

Pissignano

There is nothing to report about the town of Pissignano. It is unremarkable. The house in which I have booked my next overnight stay is even more unremarkable... but only from the outside.

The decor shows that someone with artistic understanding has gone about this. I am told that I can eat with them, as guests are coming anyway. Incidentally, everything that is later on the table is produced in-house: from the pasta, to the oil and wine, to the herbal liqueur.

The guests? A very lively birthday party. Their arrival? That's how I imagine the Huns' attack. An older couple is sharing the table with me. I fall into their trap.

My "Mi scuso perché non parlo italiano" has no effect whatsoever. The woman talks to me for at least an hour, while her companion keeps pouring wine and later herbal liqueur. Of course, I only said that I don't speak Italian, I didn't say anything about not understanding Italian. I still need to improve my Italian skills on this point, so that is clear too.

The only thing I remember from that very one-sided conversation is that we agreed to meet again.