The sign outside the chapel in Monteriggioni reads: %26ldquo;Pilgrims: special offer.%26rdquo;
I%26rsquo;m intrigued. What can this mean?
Leda, the smiley lady in the Tuscany tourist office next door, explains that
the offer is a dormitory bed for %26pound;12 a night (%26pound;18 if you want blankets).
It%26rsquo;s available to people who%26rsquo;ve got an official pilgrim%26rsquo;s ID card and have
walked 1,070 miles - from Kent. I%26rsquo;ve done seven-and-a-bit miles, and I can%26rsquo;t
even show her a blister.
It%26rsquo;s almost exactly 1,000 years since Archbishop Sigeric of Canterbury jotted
down his exploits on the Via Francigena - the first written record of the
ancient pilgrim road to Rome. Last year, the trail got a new lease of life,
or at least some new signposts, and wayfarers are again huffing up the hill
into Monteriggioni, a village disguised as a castle, ringed with walls and
watchtowers like something from Le Morte d%26rsquo;Arthur. But Leda, for one, seems
slightly unconvinced by their noble goal.
%26ldquo;These people who come, I think they are big people.
plo
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