11. On the Way to Poggio Bustone

My first encounter today: a pilgrim from Israel, Anata, approaches me and asks if she can take my photo. I am the first gray-haired woman she has seen alone on the pilgrimage route. It’s unclear whether this question is to be viewed positively or negatively. In any case, it has amused both of us and her British companion, Karl. Of course, we then exchange the basics: 'When will you be in Rome?' 'Which path are you taking?' 'Maybe we’ll see each other again. That would be nice.'

The death of the Pope is currently the top topic everywhere. From the houses, you can hear the TV reports. (Today is a holiday in Italy, Liberation Day, and people have time.) Some are fleeing from Rome and the crowds. Others reflect on how the papacy has affected things and what comes next. Others worry about not finding a room in the vicinity of Rome. I notice it too; many places are fully booked or expensive.

The Israeli woman Anata booked her room in Rome three weeks ago for 165 euros, and today a room of the same category is being offered in the same hotel for 595 euros. On May 2, the price drops again to 250 euros.

Cantalice San Felice

Today, I’m traveling from Cantalice to Poggio Bustone. Essentially, it’s a relatively short distance further into the mountains. The inclines aren’t particularly strenuous for the only gray-haired woman. The day starts sunny, then suddenly the sky pours down in torrential rains. Again near thunderstorms, again picking up the pace. Looking for shelter somewhere and waiting. The main thing is, you get soaking wet just once, and in less than 30 minutes the sun shines brightly again.

The town of Cantalice moves me. A castle ruin, next to it a church dedicated to Saint Felice, and the medieval old town are built at breathtaking heights. Anyone born here should certainly not be afraid of heights.

It could be picturesque, but one gets the impression of watching a city die. Many very old people and a few young ones who don’t radiate much cheer. A man approaches me. Everything is being equated to evil. The government is a disaster, the EU is bad for Italy. Everything was better in the past; now Italy is being robbed of its identity. I should take a look around here. Everything is desolate. On this last point, I have to agree with him. But who is to blame? It’s difficult to listen to the gentleman, even harder to respond. I excuse myself from the matter by using my Deepl friend-and-translation program to say, 'Let’s see it positively. The EU has made friends and partners out of us.' Thus, we ultimately parted ways amicably. A difficult topic.

Poggio Bustone