The clang of the bells, the multiple “Ciao” and “Grazie”, “prego” exchanged, rolling clouds passing through the Simbruini mountain range threatening rain, the steep staircases connecting the lower and upper parts of the town and Subiaco pulls me in again.

It has been a joy to return to Subiaco, particularly as I don’t feel physically broken as I did when I arrived here in July 2023. There was a sense of failure, I admit, that I did not manage to complete the pilgrimage in one go, only because I had intended to, rather than it being a shortcoming. However, it has allowed me to spend twice as long in this wonderful little town. Last time I was able to see the wonderful monasteries and this time I made it to the top of the town for some stunning views and twisty street.

The Basilica of San Andrea consecrated by pope Pius VI in 1798 and nearly destroyed by bombs during the Second World War, and carefully rebuilt in the 1950’s, was a baroque treat. Whilst baroque architecture has not always been to my taste, I am learning to love it, there was a particular calm to this church with its spacious vaulted ceilings and remarkable dome and stucco work.

I stopped for a while at a painting of a sleeping St Joseph with an angel trying to wake him. He was so peaceful and relaxed, head looking inward to himself, whilst an angel tries to pull him on and outwards, pointing to the direction he must go. Perhaps it was the urgency of the angel or the peaceful reluctance of St Joseph, but something made me pause and drink it in for a moment longer than usual, wondering what I was being drawn onwards to in my pilgrimage. The painting itself was probably a copy, and not in very good repair, but it was good enough to do what it did.

The town itself was bustling in the evening, lots of people out for aperitivo or their passeggiata, the young beautiful ones, alongside their elders. Me, a passerby, observing and eavesdropping on their lives.

An unexpected treat that was worth the 200ft climb was the Rocca dei Borgia dating from the 11th century. It has had many identities, fortress, prison, watchtower, abbey, palace…perhaps its biggest claim to fame is that it is likely to be where some of the famous Borgia’s were born, one of whom became Pope Alexander VI, who gifted it to the Colonna family. The 18th century paintwork on the ceilings was lovely and so delicately completed, sadly the walls were not looking quite so fresh. There was an exhibit too of Enzo Roberti’s work, with some stunning pieces with striking figures and his recurring shirt motif, which he used to represent humanity.

So whilst I may have been disappointed to not finish my pilgrimage three years ago, I am very grateful for the opportunity to come back and spend more time in this part of the country. It is from here that I will set out on my way along the river Aniene, past lakes and monasteries to see what is to be found.