Via Romea Germanica XIV
Levico Terme, Italy to Borgo Valsugana.
Morning sunlight catches the mountains near Levico Terme, Italy
We woke this morning to an unusual, and virtually unprecedented sight: sunlight was streaming in through our windows.
Che strano, as we say here in Italy.
We had a wonderful breakfast, during which I was able to practice my fractured and fractious Italian. Once our landlady realized that I had a rudimentary grasp of the language, she switched over to her native tongue, and I was given a linguistic workout. It was a fabulous opportunity, and I need to step out in my second language more frequently to continue to improve my skills.
Welcome to the Peripatetic Historian's multi-part series about hiking the Via Romea Germanica.
If you have stumbled across this installment by accident or a fortuitous Google search, and have no idea what is happening, you might prefer to begin at the start of the series, here: Introduction to the Via Romea Germanica
Otherwise, let's return to our story, already in progress.
Today was graced with a relatively short stage. According to the guidebook, fewer than 15 kilometers separated us from our next stop (Borgo Valsugana) and it was virtually all downhill. Even the descent was supposed to be benign: a 130 meter drop over 15 kilometers. We spent the morning digesting our wonderful breakfast, and wandering through town. Then we laced up our boots a little later than normal.
Morning in Levico Terme
We descended from the heights of Levico Terme, and picked up the bike path that parallels the Rio Brenta. The Brenta is only a small agricultural ditch at this point, a trickle of a stream that originates in Lago Levico and flows downhill, 174 kilometers to the Adriatic, where it mixes its waters just south of the Venetian lagoon. It is not much to see at this point; a reasonably adept long jumper could vault it with ease. Nevertheless, it will grow beside us, our guide and companion as we three make our way east to the sea.
The Rio Brenta, a rather inauspicious ditch at this stage of the journey
We hiked east, with bikers whizzing past every few minutes. There were no complicated navigational problems on this day; follow the bike path—it doesn’t get much easier than that.
Which brings me to another major difference between the Camino Frances and the Via. As the astute reader will have noted, we have managed to go off course a few times in these early stages of our journey. The Via requires a more advanced level of navigational ability than the Camino. Although I did not maintain comprehensive records, I would doubt if there is any section of the Camino Frances where you wouldn’t see a yellow arrow or the Camino’s scallop shell waymark every five to ten minutes as you hiked along. The route is well-marked; it would take a very poor navigator to lose the path.
The Via places much longer intervals between its waymarks; occasionally it has no waymarks at all and, as I have noted on preceding days, the waymarks have a nasty habit of deviating from the route described in the guidebook. If you walked thirty minutes on the Camino without seeing a waymark, you would be off-piste. On the Via? Not necessarily.
The Via offers a more difficult navigational challenge than the Camino Frances. Directionally-challenged peregrinos should take note. You have been warned.
Nothing could have been simpler than today's course: follow the bike path, don't fall into the Rio Brenta. Eventually these sure and certain signs led us to Borgo Valsugana. There were no intermediate towns on the way.
The Brenta has become a bit more impressive
Borgo Valsugana is a pretty little town, whose central core flanks the Brenta. The local tourist board claims that this confers a "Venetian" quality to the hamlet. I suppose it does, although the fast moving water of the Brenta didn't remind me of the slow tidal flows of Venice. Nevertheless, the town stood on its own merits. As the afternoon came to a close, we walked among the winding streets and admired the picturesque, river-fronting buildings. The highlight of the evening was the discovery of a grape vine whose trunk was almost as big as my waist. Its vines were trained up the side of the building, bringing grapes to three floors of tenants.
Jack's giant grape stalk
The town is small, lovely, and feels miles off the tourist track. We have enjoyed our stay here. Tomorrow is a much longer walk down the Brenta.
Today's distance: 15.2 KM Total distance: 234.46 KM
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