Padre Domenico 7/27

I went about 5 km further than Ponte d'Arbia because when I called ahead to the ostello a few days ago they said that they were full. As I found out the next day in San Quirico, the other pilgrims that I have been seeing in Toscana did in fact stay there after they knocked at the door and begged to stay; they did sleep on the floor that night.

At the next town, Buonconvento, I stayed at the parish of Santi Pietro e Paolo. The pastor, Padre Domenico, even invited me for dinner at 7:30 along with the cook/housekeeper, a sculptor doing work on the stone steps, and the sculptor's wife. Last January and February Father Domenico was in NYC in Little Italy in the parish of Our Lady of Pompei. It seems that he was between parish assignments and had two months to go abroad. His English  was very good and he also gave me a few tips regarding Italian grammar and some idiomatic expressions. 

It was a rough walk in the kilometers before Ponte d'Arbia: around noon, getting hot, parallel along train tracks, thorny vines along the side of the road. I stopped at A pizzeria at Ponte d'Arbia for a panino, a cold drink, and a wifi opportunity to update things. I felt better having eaten but still knew that they last "extra" 4.7km could be hard. I arrived at the parish around 2:00 and saw a sign that read something to the effect that the doors open at 4:30. I was so tired that I took off my backpack and just sat down on the bench in front. After a few minutes the cook/housekeeper just happened to be looking out of the window and saw me, invited me up, and showed me where the pilgrims stayed: a room with two beds and a mattress on the floor adjacent to a bathroom. Soon after Father Domenico came up and invited me for dinner, let me use his own shower on the third floor, and said he would be back later. After a shower and washing clothes I couldn't really leave; u had no key to get back in. I didn't know what to do, wanted to go out and buy some fruit and bread for the road the next day, was tired, felt "trapped" and just grumbled to myself what a bad place this was, how I felt miserable, didn't know what to do, etc. etc. ad nauseum. Finally seven o'clock came and everything was fine. My laundry was drying nicely, the cook had pretty much prepared a big dinner with many dishes, and I realized that my grumbling was pretty much useless energy spent.

It was well worth the extra few kms to be there for a nice dinner and engaging conversation - mostly in Italian. Sometimes the priest would remind the cook to slow down when talking - for the sake of the Americano. If I had the opportunity to be involved with more conversations like this one, I'm sure that my Italian would greatly improve. However, most of my day is spent walking with very little chance to speak Italian. Even the few people that I've walked with were fairly fluent in English and that was the preferred language.

 The only regret about Buonconvento was that I forgot to get a stamp on my pilgrim's credentials before I left the next day. I just wrote the place and date in myself but it's not the same.