It was raining, which raised the question: when do we become competition for Noah?

Another of life's questions: How many more stages will I begin with the words “it was raining?”

At least one more.

It was raining. The rain had stopped, momentarily, when we stepped out of our agriturismo this morning, but that was simply a temporary lull. The dominant story of today’s stage was near-constant rain, which ranged from a light drizzle to a steady downpour. As a general rule, rain is my favorite form of weather, but eleven days into this trip, even I, a confirmed lover of damp days, would relish a break.

As attentive readers will recall, we divided one of the guidebook’s longer stages into two parts. Today we were required to finish the second half, which began with us beating through the vineyards toward Lavis.

Lavis is one of those smaller towns that I would have liked to have spent some more time in. It seemed like a personable town with some lovely old buildings. There was also a strange terraced structure built into the side of a hill behind the buildings. This turned out to be a monumental garden, “dei ciucioi,” built in 1860. I suppose you could label it a folly, designed to imitate ancient Roman or Greek ruins. At the moment it is undergoing a renovation, covered with scaffolding.

We climbed the hillside away from Lavis. The rain began to soak down with a vengeance. Our path led through more vineyards. I must confess that I am beginning to shudder whenever my GPS map indicates vineyards ahead. They never plant vineyards on flat ground around these parts. If you are heading for vineyards, expect either a steep climb, or an equally vertiginous descent. There doesn’t appear to be a happy medium.

Here’s a warning for those who might be contemplating a trip on the Via: there is a major discrepancy between the guidebook/map and the waymarked trail after Lavis. The book and map indicate that the trail heads for Gazzadina, but, in fact, if you follow the trail waymarks, they will take you up the hill to Vigo Meano and then on through Cortesano. In other words, the waymarks do not match the guidebook through this section of the stage.

We followed the waymarks and huffed up the hill to Vigo Meano. By the time we reached the little town, we were tired, wet, and in need of a break. We pulled into the Pub Moby Dick for a short rest.

Yes, you read that correctly.

Pub Moby Dick.

Mary didn’t want anything to eat, so I went up to the counter and laid some of my highly polished Italian on the woman manning the cash register. I ordered an espresso doppio—a double-shot of espresso.

Well, something got lost in the translation. Perhaps it was the noise level in the bar. The counter woman passed me a receipt for four euros. I noted that she had charged me for two items. Clearly she had misunderstood my fractured Italian, and assumed I had ordered two espressos. That would be entirely reasonable, since she had seen Mary and I come in together. I, however, knew that it was unrealistic, because Mary never drinks coffee.

Alas, alas, I thought. I shall just have to drink Mary’s coffee as well—two cups of espresso instead of one. I was feeling fairly content with this turn of events. I do love my coffee.

We sat at our table, discretely wringing water out of our clothes. A couple of minutes later, the counter woman swooped out of the kitchen with a platter in hand, bearing an assortment of items, none of which were espresso.

There was, in fact, a bowl of potato chips. There was a long, thin plate that held four small tuna sandwiches. And then, the piece de resistance, two beers in narrow flutes.

Zounds! I am still at a loss to understand how an espresso doppio was altered to two beers and snacks, but there it was.

When you think about it—and I did—that’s quite a little meal for four euros, even for someone, like me, who loathes beer.

The moral of the story: the Pub Moby Dick doesn't scrimp when wet pilgrims order a light repast.

Having tucked our refreshments under our belts, we resumed our walk south. We passed through Cortesano and then entered the woods. Here we stumbled across our first encounter with the old Roman road, the Via Claudia Augusta. This road, completed during the reign of the Emperor Claudius, (ca. AD 46) linked the Adriatic sea with southern Germany. We hiked down a well-preserved section as we headed for Trento.

We had gained significant altitude during the day’s walk, and it was all dispersed at the end. The Via angles sharply downward after Martignano, and we slipped and slid down the trails into Trento. The rain had not abated, and the slick stones of the downhill sections were treacherous. Ultimately, however, we passed beneath the Aquila gate and made our way into Trento. We have another rest day scheduled for tomorrow, and are looking forward to exploring this interesting city.

Today's distance: 17.8 KM Total distance: 195.86 KM

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