It was a nice walk out of Viverone. Nothing extraordinary, but then again, it is all extraordinary in its own way.
Unexpected connections in Cavaglià
About 5kms in, I entered Cavaglià, where the VF took a turn at a t-bone intersection. On the opposite side of the street was a large gate in a wall with various signs welcoming pilgrims and offering a passport stamp.
I hadn’t gotten a stamp in Viverone, so I thought I would pick one up. I walked through the large gate and met Marcello, who was doing some watering in the garden. He was immediately one of those friends you just haven’t met before, and I spent several minutes with him getting my stamp (with an extra mustache stamp – I have no idea what that was about), and talking about my walk from London. He also gave me a tiny pilgrim flag he asked me to carry to Rome.
Most of the pilgrims he meets are on much shorter pilgrimages. In fact, he was expecting a large number of pilgrims through that day because a lot of people walk the Cammino di Oropa from Santhià north to Oropa (not on the VF), a four-day pilgrimage, and Thursday is a typical day to start in order to finish on Sunday at the UNESCO-listed Sanctuary of Oropa.
More than just good coffee
Marcello then directed me across the street to the café with “the best café, the best brioche, and the best bar woman”. That sounded like a recommendation I couldn’t turn down.
The café appears to be the center of the Cavaglià community, and a constant stream of people were in and out while I was there. The coffee, the brioche, and the “bar woman” were all as good as Marcello suggested.
While I was enjoying my coffee and brioche, a tiny silver-haired woman came in with her grey-muzzled dachshund mix and sat down near me. I asked if I could pet her dog, and she said that was fine and then thanked me several times for doing so. “Grazie! Grazie! Grazie!” I thanked her back since petting a dog is always good for the soul.
Shortly after that, Marcello came in with his friend, Pierre-Mario (a phonetic spelling I’ve likely butchered), who was in Cavaglià to help Marcello greet pilgrims. He told me that the coffee was so good there because it was from Naples, where they have the best coffee, which not many places in northern Italy serve. He also explained that a good shop heats the espresso cups with steam before filling them with coffee, and they don’t use an automatic machine since you can only properly calibrate the pressure of the hot water through the espresso by hand. He then insisted on buying me another cup of coffee. To really savor the flavor of the coffee, I took this one as an espresso rather than my standard cafè Americano.
What a treat the whole experience was, and it came out of a tiny decision to stop and get a stamp!
The countryside beyond Cavaglià begins to flatten out, and it’s apparent you are entering the Po Valley (a/k/a) the Po Plain), a large basin that extends from the Western Alps to the Adriatic Sea.
The Po Valley or the Po Plain
For reference, Cavaglià is between Torino and Milano.
The part of the Po Valley that I’m now walking through is rich with irrigation water from the Alps, which is used for huge crops of rice, corn, soybeans, and sunflowers. I’m sure there are numerous other crops, but those are the primary crops I’ve seen thus far.
Shortly after leaving Cavaglià, I walked by a huge field of sunflowers and a group of Oropa-bound pilgrims taking photos of themselves in front of the sunflowers. I offered to take a group photo of them, which they readily accepted and then insisted I join them for a group photo.
Immediately after passing the sunflowers, I ran into a solo Italian pilgrim, Francesco, headed to Oropa. He spoke fluent English, and we quickly got onto the joys of walking alone and how it can dissipate a lot of the noise in your head created by modern life. The challenge is just holding onto that feeling when you get back into your everyday life. That prompted me to share a short poem with him by an Italian poet I had just run across a couple of days prior:
Ognuno sta solo sul cuor della terra
trafitto da un raggio di solo:
ed è subito sera.
Each of us stands alone on the heart of the earth,
pierced by a ray of sunlight-
and suddenly it’s evening.
Salvatore Quasimodo (1901 - 1968)
He told me that Quasimodo is well-loved in Italy, and the poem is quite popular. Francesco then gifted me with a tiny scroll, which he has printed to give out on his camino.
The quote from Jane Kennedy is:
”Are objects what define you or your experiences?”
It’s nice to come away from a brief interaction with something substantive to think about.
Two more small things lifted my spirits before I stumbled hot and exhausted into Santhià:
The pleasure of running across a painted rock left it in an unexpected place for pilgrims to enjoy. I can’t read the top line, but the rest of it says, “Circles will open doors”. I’m sure the real translation would be more meaningful.
A creative table and benches made from painted tires and old concrete panels originally used for another purpose. It’s a generous act to provide the table and benches to anyone who wants to use them, but it’s also a creative use of the materials you have available.
Next up: A long, dead-flat run to Vercelli
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4 Responses
You really will have to figure out to publish your work when you return. This is such an adventure!
Thank you very much! It’s a lot of fun for me to be able to share the adventure with friends and family. I like solitude, but interaction on this blog has really helped me feel connected.
Great video taken by the drone over the sunflower field Charles. Really beautiful!
Scott Spencer (aka groovychaos)
Thanks. I would have liked to have let the video go longer, but the field of sunflowers got too thin toward the end. I was hoping that was the beginning of more fields of sunflowers, but that was the only field I’ve seen thus far.