The arrival

Day 22 on the Via di Francesco

I was awake again at 5.00am and prayed and packed to start walking at 6.00am. There was a Bar open so I popped in for a quick coffee. A love for Espresso coffee is one of the discoveries of this trip. On the way out of town I noticed almost every shop had decided on some kind of pilgrim reference. What I did notice was a series of wall paintings on the life of Saint Francis. Expect a separate post about these.

I went on a bit further and on impulse I turned off the official route. There was a sign pointing to a Natural trail so off I went. I checked on my map and noted a green line would rejoin the official route later so I felt safe. It was beautiful.

I wanted to make the most of the forest and flowers that I could. I did meet a very grumpy man in a car who was horrified I had deviated from the route. But I had made my decision and carried on.

I began musing on the choices we make. I thought about claims of orthodoxy and following one official and rigid path. Yet here was a path not much used as I discovered , sections of which had been used in the past as the official route. I think there is something there for further musings I think.

I saw the Basilica in the distance as I rounded a corner and as I realised I wasn’t too far away remembered that I may be in time for the Eucharist at the Anglican Church in Assisi. I started going a bit faster than my normal walking speed as I wasn’t sure what time the service started.

After yet another grueling climb up the final hill I arrived at the city gate. I had done it!

I didn’t have time to rest as I had to find my way to the church. I did manage this in good time though.

I wasn’t at my best and probably didn’t get as much out of this as I had hoped. I was tired, sweaty and generally disheveled. I did have a chat with a visitor from North Wales with his family. He was going to be ordained as a priest in June and had become a Postulant in the Third Order (TSSF).

It was then through the town and down the hill to check in to my hostel It’s name is Ostello del Pace and it has proved peaceful so far.

The only other person in my dormitory was a young German man. We were able to share our stories and I wouldn’t be surprised if he ends up as a Catholic Franciscan Friar. I rested that afternoon and evening. I was just enjoying the knowledge that I didn’t have to walk anywhere the next day.