Stage 15: Arpino to Roccasecca

Today was a later start, a hopeful start, I knew it was a largely straightforward walk apart from an extremely steep decline at one point. The clouds looked as if they might clear.  Feeling optimistic and confident I went and sought out a panino and some pastries for the walk, as well as filling up on water. It was here, in my attempt at conversation, that my walking sola, alone, was to be a shock to the Italian woman serving me. 

More this time than last people have asked if I am walking alone, they seem to be surprised sometimes even asking “Why are you walking alone?”, my Italian is not anywhere near good enough to try and explain, so I just reply that I like it that way. It isn’t a lie as such, but it isn’t the full explanation either. Later on I realise I could have found a way to say it is easier to pray that way. 

That isn’t all of it either of course. 

There is something about walking alone. I have never felt lonely, nor wished there was anyone with me on the walk — though I have thought that in churches and convents, where the desire to share the experience with certain friends is stronger — but not on the walk itself. It isn’t that company would ruin it, it would just be different.

The vulnerability in being alone on the side of a mountain was particularly clear to me today. I gave thanks that the rain held off for that part. The path was narrow, one mis-step and I would have been in trouble quickly. It was tempting to enjoy the view, or to be scared by just how rapidly I would be going down hill, but I really had to pay attention to the next step, and the next one, and that was all. There had been rain very recently, making the way all the slipperier, in a sense I was more vulnerable than in July, then I just had to battle against the heat, heat you can prepare for, but uneven slippery ground leaves you more exposed.

In walking alone you create a secret, an experience that no photograph or words will ever be able to capture. There is no way to share what has passed. You are more open to what the world and the people have to offer. Of course in another sense I was not alone, as the woman who stopped to speak to me whilst I was eating lunch and admiring the view. She expressed her concern about me walking alone and how difficult and hard the path ahead was. Then she left with a final prayer:

‘May St Benedict be with you’.