Look, I get it. You came here for a guy walking. You got a guy lounging around B&Bs, strolling around towns and posting photos of his food. This is not how any of us envisioned this blog going.

But today, after three days of goofing off and walking a total of 8 miles over three days (that’s just nothing), I put in what the trail guide suggests was about 11.5 miles, and what my iPhone Health app says was 13.8. Let’s call it 12.5. And let’s celebrate with a random photo of an unexpected rainbow bench in Proceno.

Today my whole walk was in the Lazio region- I left Tuscany and entered Lazio when I traveled to Proceno. At first, there didn’t seem to be much difference. The trail, on paved and then unpaved roads and then on a footpath through some woods, was descending in smallish valleys, with some more open landscapes, but a general sense that this was hill country, and any agriculture was adapted to the hills.

The shocks of the morning were that it was actually humid when I started out, totally different from the arid heat I’ve been experiencing so far. And then there was some light rain while I was walking in the woods. Fine with me.

The path descended more than a hundred meters in elevation, bringing me to the bottom of things in a way that I knew meant I was coming to the ups. And sure enough, the way began rising toward Acquapendente. And rising. Then there was some more rising.

This marked the second phase of the walk– getting through and out off Acquapendente. In the city center itself, it was pretty enough, though the Via Francigena follows a very narrow street that was also, due to my timing I guess, busy with cars, so that I was edging over to one side fairly often.

But after all the intense climbing to get into this intimate town, I had to walk through the more industrial south end of the town, which meant walking on sidewalks along busy roads past bus depots and bigger stores that looked to me like the Italian equivalent of Costco. This involved some loss of elevation, so of course, there was one more hard uphill push.

That brought me to the third, longest phase of the day’s walk. I’d gone perhaps four miles, and now I had seven left to go, but the landscape was transformed. It was flatter and made up of huge fields, some in cultivation, others given over to solar farms. The dirt road had some gentle roll, but it was mostly a long walk that could have been Kansas if not for the hills in the distance.

Somewhere in the midst of this section, which was starting to feel like a bit of a slog, I suddenly surprised myself by saying out loud, quite loud, without thinking about it, “I am having an Aperol spritz tonight.” It sounded as if I thought I was arguing with someone. I seemed very sure of myself. So I made a note to do what this smart man commanded.

Eventually, after a last stretch of walking along a paved road uphill, I arrived in San Lorenzo Nuovo, where the plan was to catch a bus to Bolsena, a town on the shores of a huge lake.

And it worked! The 1:39 bus came at perhaps 1:45, which I am counting as on time. I hopped aboard and asked “Bolsena. How much?” while making one of those delightful “money” gestures with my fingers that you see ugly Americans make in films about how awful we are when we are abroad. The driver shrugged and said “App. With app.” Well, I didn’t have the app, but he certainly didn’t seem to care, so I settled in and made a note to somehow repay the Cotral regional bus line for the ride, which my research had suggested should have cost somewhere between 1 and 2 euros.

Bolsena is a lakeside vacation spot, with an old town tucked into the hill and the flatter area near the shore taken up by big hotels catering to folks who’ve come for the mix of a little bit of history (there’s a castle and what I am told is a beautiful church up the hill) and the lake. The restaurants push fish dishes. Fair enough.

The hotel turned out to be, let’s be frank, like staying at a low-end chain hotel that makes its money off its banquet space. I knew the second I saw the highly polished marble floor in the lobby, which was generic as can be, that I wouldn’t be eating in the hotel restaurant. The room made me feel like I was attending a convention for orthopedic shoe salesmen.

The honey-colored furniture looked designed for the efficiency of its manufacture– this desk was built with minimum waste of wood in the template!

After a shower and my usual afternoon of loafing and napping, I headed downstairs for the one thing I knew I could get and be happy with at this hotel: an Aperol spritz. By good timing, the couple from Virginia had also figured a cocktail was essential, and graciously asked me to join them. We had that sort of pleasant general conversation you have with other Americans when traveling, an odd mix of bits of personal biography with a lot of observations about the challenges and surprises of the way things work in this country.

I noted I was on my way out to dinner, and they said they were dining at the hotel. I tried to give them one of those warning looks that says “reconsider,” but what can you do.

I ambled up the street, which was literally on the lakefront, and ate at the first restaurant I came to. Good decision. Pleasant outdoor seating, and the food was as usual very good.

I started with Burratina con cestino di peperoni snack alla brace, which as you can see from the photo below is a ball of creamy burrata with little roasted peppers served in a little toasted edible basket.

In the spirit of the lakeside, I had gnocchetti alla nostra crema di scampi, which translates as little gnocchi with a creamy sauce of shrimp. I’m not 100% sure, but I think this was actually freshwater crawfish. I couldn’t think how to ask with my limited Italian. Whatever it was, it was delicious.

The walking, my friends, is nearly done. Friday I have planned a shorter dip into the scheduled 11-mile hike with 300 meters of elevation gain. But that’s tomorrow. I headed back to my room, where for some reason the air conditioning and the wifi both shut off around 11pm. For now, think of me dreaming of shrimp and the latest sales numbers for orthopedic shoes as I drift off to sleep in my honey-colored bed with a lumpy mattress. Ah, Italy!