Vincent Crump
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From The Sunday Times
April 6, 2008
Step up for Europe’s top treks
Here are the continent’s finest blister-free walks. We begin in Tuscany, with Vincent Crump’s pilgrimage to Siena
The sign outside the chapel in Monteriggioni reads: “Pilgrims: special offer.” I’m intrigued. What can this mean?
Leda, the smiley lady in the Tuscany tourist office next door, explains that the offer is a dormitory bed for £12 a night (£18 if you want blankets). It’s available to people who’ve got an official pilgrim’s ID card and have walked 1,070 miles - from Kent. I’ve done seven-and-a-bit miles, and I can’t even show her a blister.
It’s almost exactly 1,000 years since Archbishop Sigeric of Canterbury jotted down his exploits on the Via Francigena - the first written record of the ancient pilgrim road to Rome. Last year, the trail got a new lease of life, or at least some new signposts, and wayfarers are again huffing up the hill into Monteriggioni, a village disguised as a castle, ringed with walls and watchtowers like something from Le Morte d’Arthur. But Leda, for one, seems slightly unconvinced by their noble goal.
“These people who come, I think they are big people.
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Courageous. Some are religious, others do it just for their soul. But all of them speak English, not Italian. Italians take the bus.”
Me, my sympathies lie somewhere in between. Yes, I’m travelling on foot, but for four days only, across the time-warp Tuscan hills that separate San Gimignano and Siena. It’s the most meticulously medieval chunk of the pilgrim path, the section with the prettiest scenery and the biggest food. The nice folks at the walking-holiday company ATG Oxford are ensuring that I suffer as little physical deprivation as humanly possible: providing idiot-proof route directions, moving on my bags and arranging comfy cribs at the end of the trail. Tonight, for example, instead of sackcloth, ashes and optional scratchy blankets, I’ve got Egyptian cotton, minibar Heineken and a dip in the swimming pool at the Hotel Monteriggioni. At an average of 10 miles a day, I’m not so much trekking, more trickling.
Even so, the trip comes with a satisfying spirit of adventure - a sense of journey-making that you just don’t get from circular walks. As for ye olde atmosphere, that comes easy - it is soaked into the pinkish stones of every fortified farmhouse and tumbledown barn I pass at the wayside.
I set off two mornings ago from San Gimignano, the textbook Tuscan hill town, with 13th-century skyscrapers, a frescoed duomo and museums devoted to a classic trio of medieval pursuits: civic pride, sacred art and torture. It’s a sensational place to start, and I spend so long admiring blood-soaked baby-stabbings and eyeball-gougings (and that’s just at the cathedral), it’s 11.30am before I’m ready to hit the trail.
Soon, though, bellicose architecture gives way to absolute serenity, and my walk stretches before me like a long and especially enjoyable Italian lunch. In Archbishop Sigeric’s day, thousands trod the road to Rome – not just pilgrims, but traders – and the warlike abbeys, manors and forts that now ornament the route were built to police the trail. Travelling was risky, as brigands preyed on the Via Francigena; those caught would be impaled on forks, part warning, part waymarker. Today, though, as Leda said, nobody walks in Italy except tourists. I even see a shepherd rounding up his flock by car. The path is mine alone.
ATG Oxford’s route plays hide-and-seek with the original pilgrim path, dodging 20th-century tarmac in favour of Tuscany’s famed strade bianche, glittery gravel roads that swerve like snail trails across a strangely orderly landscape tessellated with marching grapevines, tidy olive groves and lollipop lines of cypress trees. There’s the odd moment of authentic pilgrim-type incident - a rolling-up of trouser legs to ford the stony stream at Molino di Aiano; an impromptu plunge into the reedy waters of a ruined Roman bathhouse at Gracciano - but mostly the walking is pleasingly uneventful, a warm, sun-kissed hug of hills and vineyards and pine-scent rising from under my boots on the forest floor. Lizards crinkle in the oak leaves, startled pheasants b-doingggg out of bushes and, every so often, a spectral monk on a faded fingerpost beckons me onward. It’s not long before my heart beats in time with my footsteps.
At lunchtime, there is wild-boar panini from my day pack and a slab of panforte, the essential ingredient of any pilgrim’s picnic: a spicy, nutty Sienese honey cake that has been sustaining travellers here since crusader times. The evenings bring mamma-made meals at down-home Tuscan restaurants, which means peasant grub such as ribollita, a cabbage broth they should serve by the slice, and pici, hardcore spaghetti, as thick as your thumb, typically slathered in peppery pecorino sauce. All sluiced down with so much Chianti Gallo Nero that I start to worry less about blisters than gout.
By the time I lug my Friar Tuck paunch up the steep knoll to the gates of Monteriggioni, at the end of day three, I’ve torn myself a hiking staff from the hedgerow and acquired three stray dogs, who have been following for more than a mile now, having befriended me near Ebbio. I’m rather pleased with them: they add an extra frisson of epicness to the whole endeavour. With my retinue of curs, my Gap hoodie and my all-natural tonsure, I fancy I’m starting to look a bit ecclesiastical myself.
Namechecked in Dante’s Inferno, Monteriggioni is storybook romantic. Its gothic battlements enclose one hotel, two restaurants, a gift shop selling suits of armour and 80 or so villagers. The only way it could be more redolent of medieval Italy is if ATG Oxford installed a complimentary damsel in a turret, for rescuing purposes.
The village was built by the Sienese in 1213 as a frontline stronghold in their wars against Florence. Nowadays, it is stormed every morning by the battalions of tourists who park their hire cars beneath the main gate – but I’m sneaking in via the silvery strada bianca that snakes up to the back door, in the late afternoon, when the ancient masonry is at its most golden. More than anywhere on my walk, I feel the ghosts of Sigeric and his brethren moving beside me here.
In their day, going on pilgrimage was the nearest thing to a holiday. For heathens like me, holidays are the nearest we’ll get to heaven. Sigeric walked to Rome to be consecrated by the Pope. Gazing back from the gates of Monteriggioni over the soft mountains and sloping olive groves I’ve crossed this week, it makes me wonder what kind of paradise he was hoping to upgrade to.
Vincent Crump travelled as a guest of ATG Oxford
The details: ATG Oxford (01865 315678, www.atg-oxford.com ) offers self-guided Tuscany & Siena walks from £355pp for four nights or £515pp for six, B&B, including three days’ walking (with optional circular walks), hotel accommodation, full route notes and baggage transfers, but not flights. Airlines flying to Pisa include British Airways (0844 493 0787, www.ba.com ), Ryanair (www.ryanair.com ), EasyJet (www.easyjet.com ), Jet2 (0871 226 1737, www.jet2.com ) and Thomsonfly (www.thomsonfly.com ). From there, use the excellent Italian train network (www.trenitalia.com ) to connect to your start and finish points. ATG can supply timetable info. Bologna is also an easy 90-minute drive from Florence. Fly there with BA from Gatwick.
Other tour operators offering walking holidays in Tuscany include Walks Worldwide (01524 242000, www.walksworldwide.com ) and Headwater (01606 720199, www.headwater.com ).
Stroll on: five other great walks to try
HERE ARE five more European trekking trails made simple - each with comfy lodgings, and your bags transferred daily. All are self-guided, but prices include full route notes, backup from a local tour rep, accommodation and some meals.
A word of caution: for “simple”, don’t read “easy”. All the logistics are handled for you, but you’ve still got to do the walking stuff yourself. We’ve got everything from a sleepy stroll to an Alpine yomp, and they’re rated for your hiking pleasure.
THE CAMI DE RONDA
A walking holiday for lazybones? Try the Cami de Ronda, the footpath that wriggles across the quietest corner of the Costa Brava, from Palamos to Begur. We’re talking short seaside strolls between smart little hotels, long lunches on beachside terraces and regular, reviving dips in the Med. Even wayfinding is a cinch – just keep the sea on your right.
Cami de Ronda means “patrol walk”, and the trail was first trod by customs men on the lookout for smugglers, much like the coast path in Cornwall. That means it comes with guaranteed views into every tiny chink in the rocky shoreline, and drops down into unspoilt fishing villages (S’Alguer, Tamariu) and idyllic coves (Calella, Cala Pedrosa).
A seven-night trip with Inntravel (01653 617949, www.inntravel.co.uk ) keeps things gentle – just four walks of between six and eight miles, leaving you with plenty of time to enjoy a big plate of garlicky gambas at the Hotel Ancora or potter around the lively market in Palafrugell. And there’s an optional treat at the end for sybarites: upgrade to the five-star Mas de Torrent Hotel, near Pals, for a well-earned wallow in the spa.
You can travel between April and June or in September and October; from £619pp, half-board. Flights are extra: to Girona with Ryanair (www.ryanair.com ).
Challenge rating: 1/5 – more amble than ramble.
THE STEVENSON TRAIL
Five years before he hit the literary big time with Treasure Island, Robert Louis Stevenson set off with a cantankerous donkey named Modestine to write perhaps the first ever trekking travelogue, across an ancient, sequestered part of southern France.
Despite the title, his book, Travels with a Donkey in the Cévennes, became a classic – and what’s delightful is that the countryside it recorded has stayed resolutely off the tourist map. Stevenson’s 120-mile route from Le Monastier to St-Jean-du-Gard remains a landscape of bouldery valleys and chestnut woods, pimpled with dead volcanoes and peopled by stoic shepherds.
You’ll see places the writer saw, such as Notre Dame des Neiges, where the monks still pray (and brew), as well as places he missed, including the Lac du Bouchet, hidden inside the cone of a flooded volcano – a fabulous spot for a swim.
In place of Stevenson’s sorry ass, there is Belle France (01580 214010, www.bellefrance.co.uk ), which is ready to lug your bags and lay on your beds – mostly in cute village inns and auberges. The company splits Stevenson’s walk neatly in half, so you can tackle one week or both, covering between eight and 16 miles per day. Travel any time from now until October; a week starts at £651pp, half-board, including return ferry crossings with car.
Challenge rating: 3/5 – for less donkey work, plump for week two.
THE LYCIAN WAY
Think of this as the most rewarding beach holiday on earth – a ramble along the Turquoise Coast, through ruined citadels, camel farms and orange groves. Each day, your own private cove awaits, promising an end-of-trail swim in the limpid Mediterranean.
Tackling all 300 miles of Turkey’s first long-distance path would take a month, so On Foot Holidays (01722 322652, www.onfootholidays.co.uk ) has asked Kate Clow, the Lycian Way’s pioneer, to pick out the plums. You’ll cover 45 miles over six days, from the charismatic town of Antalya to a grandstand finish at the Kilidonya lighthouse, meeting wild tortoises and fire-breathing dragons on the way.
The trail follows goat paths and mule tracks along the clifftops of the Tekke peninsula, where the mountains drop straight down to the shore. Perhaps the most memorable stop is ancient Olympos, settled by pirates and conquered by the Romans – now a scatter of tombs, temples and aqueducts, crumbling in a lost valley. You’ll also encounter the fabled Chimaera, an eternally flaming hillside said to be a dragon’s lair.
The trip is available in spring and autumn; seven nights in hotels and beachside apartments cost £590pp, including most meals, but not flights – to Antalya with British Airways (0844 493 0787, www.ba.com ), Thomsonfly (www.thomsonfly.com ) or Flythomascook (0870 513 3102, www.flythomascook.com ).
Challenge rating: 3/5 – starts gently, tougher later. The final leg is 13 miles, but you can always cheat and nab a cab.
THE CORFU TRAIL
This trail is a baby, one plotted in 2001 by an expat Englishwoman named Hilary Paipeti – environmentalist, estate agent and evangelical fan of “the forgotten Corfu”. She did it by splicing together 15 ancient tracks, all with lovely romantic names such as Prospero’s Way, the Odyssey Path and the Kingfisher Trail.
Jinking right along the spiky spine of the island, it escapes the fleshpot resorts and transports you into a sleepy hinterland of crumbling monasteries and secret hamlets – the Corfu made famous by Gerald Durrell, the one that British visitors originally fell in love with. Once spring arrives, the whole route explodes with wild flowers.
The trail is 135 miles in all, and Walks Worldwide (01524 242000, www.walksworldwide.com ) offers a full-on fortnight, hiking the lot, and shorter itineraries picking off the highlights. You’ll climb Agii Deka, Corfu’s second-highest summit, and picnic at tumbledown Taxiarchis chapel, with its frescoed walls and far-reaching views.
You can depart any day in May, June, September or October, and a 10-night trip starts at £450pp, half-board, staying at small hotels and tavernas. Flights are extra: airlines flying to Corfu include EasyJet (www.easyjet.com ), XL Airways (0871 911 4220, www.xl.com ), Thomsonfly (www.thomsonfly.com ) and Flythomascook (0870 513 3102, www.flythomascook.com ).
Challenge rating: 4/5 if you tackle the end-to-end hike, or 3/5 if you opt for the week-long sampler.
THE HAUTE ROUTE
From Mont Blanc to the Matterhorn, skirting 10 of the 12 highest peaks in the Alps ... mountain expeditions come no more scintillating than the Haute Route. It was created a century ago for skiers – a 110-mile path across glaciers now made slightly wobbly by global warming. It’s not easy: only half of those who tackle it reach the finish.
Not to worry, though. Sherpa (020 8577 2717, www.sherpa-walking-holidays.co.uk has created its own boot-friendly version, shorter and less lofty, but packing all the scenic punch of the original. Distances are modest – between three and 11 miles per day – but this is still very much a hike rather than a walk, including a challenging traverse of the Col de Torrent pass, reaching almost 10,000ft.
You’ll be making the trip in summer, when the Alpine meadows are packed with flowers and clanking with cowbells, and sunshine spears off every icy crag. Given the setting, you half expect Heidi to jump out from behind a chalet and start yodelling.
Sherpa’s itinerary runs from Arolla to Zermatt, and is available between July and September: eight nights, staying in mountain inns, start at £621pp, including most meals; the operator can arrange flights from London to Geneva for an extra £166pp.
Challenge rating: 5/5 – this one’s for hairy-chested hill-walkers only.
Peter makes some good points.
I'd be tempted to add the West Highland Way to this list, for example, as well as some other GRs (eg 5, from Geneva to Nice)
Alan, London, UK
How on earth can this article claim to review Europe's "ultimate treks" when it does not cover the GR20 down the spine of Corsica ("Europe's toughest mountain trek"), or the Pyrenean High Route (HRP), or the GR10/GR11, or any of the treks in the Dolomites etc, etc?
Plus, the p1 photo shows a walker dressed completely unsuitably for any meaningful trek: he's wearing fabric walking shoes rather than proper boots and his rucksack is suitable only for a day walk, not for any meaningful trek.
It seems to me that the author has no idea about treks -- ultimate or otherwise -- and has let hyperbole get the better of him
Peter Forrest, LONDON,