Wayfaring through the old towns and narrow footpaths of Tuscany.

We are two pelligrini, daypacks on backs, knitting the ground with adjustable walking poles bought outside Lucca. Fueled by a hotel breakfast and two cappuccinos each. CaminoWays, a service company that supports self-guided tours like ours, is invisibly hauling a heavy suitcase from one hotel to the next.

Hotel Diana on Wednesday night. Then Hotel Paola in Altopascio. Now at Hotel San Miniato in the ancient hilltop town of San Miniato.

We meet few other pilgrims: A lost gentleman from Florence, with pack and poles. In Porcari, a dusty couple with packs on two furry mules, sojourning from Switzerland to Rome (if the creatures don’t get hit by an Iveco truck). Beyond the canal levy from Ponte a Cappiano and crossing the Arno, two women with full packs. At dinner, in the little tables outside Piccola Osteria Del Tartufo here in San Miniato, they recognize us brightly and we learn their story. They are sisters from different cities in Holland. They each discovered the joy of walking, the way it centers the body and sheds some of the tensions of modern life. So they are expanding their repertoire and spending time together in the most ancient of walks.

European Christians, it turns out, did this for 1000 years, starting in the sixth century. The road to Rome through France, called Francigena, became economic lifeblood for these towns we pass through. A whole order of monks, called the Knights of Tau for the Greek letter resembling a walking stick, established Ospitali and became a kind of Chamber of Commerce. Bilingual historical markers suggest this business model helped evolve European commerce (and a global economy, with the Holy Land as a further destination) and developed the habits and culture of Western Christian identity (apart from, though not necessarily in conflict with, the message and theology of Christianity).

Walking and walking, you savor every moment, noticing and feeling more than usual. But an odd effect of this is that you don’t remember where you’ve been on this journey. Even the names of the towns you’ve passed through are quickly forgotten, which is why I have to look them up to write them down in this blog post.

Our purpose now is not to learn the history or geography. A museum to the pilgrim-hospitality culture in Fucecchio had a sign outside that translated the icon of the walking pilgrim, “Vado pelligrinado per trovare la pace.” I go on a pilgrimage to find peace.

Doug Cumming Avatar

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One response to “Under the Tuscan Sun”

  1. dreamlanddevotedly3bf1ab97c0 Avatar
    dreamlanddevotedly3bf1ab97c0

    Godspeed you dear pilgrim; dear stranger in a strange land…

    pellegrino, “pilgrim” from the Latin, peregrinus, “foreigner,” “stranger,” or “traveler”

    “I have met with but one or two persons in the course of my life who understood the art of Walking, that is, of taking walks–who had a genius, so to speak, for SAUNTERING, which word is beautifully derived “from idle people who roved about the country, in the Middle Ages, and asked charity, under pretense of going a la Sainte Terre,” to the Holy Land, till the children exclaimed, “There goes a Sainte-Terrer,” a Saunterer, a Holy-Lander. They who never go to the Holy Land in their walks, as they pretend, are indeed mere idlers and vagabonds; but they who do go there are saunterers in the good sense, such as I mean. Some, however, would derive the word from sans terre without land or a home, which, therefore, in the good sense, will mean, having no particular home, but equally at home everywhere. For this is the secret of successful sauntering. He who sits still in a house all the time may be the greatest vagrant of all; but the saunterer, in the good sense, is no more vagrant than the meandering river, which is all the while sedulously seeking the shortest course to the sea. But I prefer the first, which, indeed, is the most probable derivation. For every walk is a sort of crusade, preached by some Peter the Hermit in us, to go forth and reconquer this Holy Land from the hands of the Infidels.” – Walking, Thoreau * *”Now therefore, our God, we thank thee, and praise thy glorious name. But who am I, and what is my people, that we should be able to offer so willingly after this sort? for all things come of thee, and of thine own have we given thee. For we are strangers before thee, and sojourners, as were all our fathers…” I Chronicles 29:13-15

    “I prayed with my feet.” – Abraham Joshua Heschel

    On Sat, Apr 18, 2026 at 12:42 AM An American journalist heads for Italy to

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