Montefiascone. 64 miles from Rome.

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After a great meal in a redone, to the nine's, restaurant and hotel, Hotel Toscano, we headed out in the light rain.  We stopped at the tourist office for our Pilgrim stamp. La Via Francigena is becoming more noticeable as we get closerbto Rome, there are different signs around giving the history of the VF or catering to the pilgrims needs. 

The view out the bedroom window this morning.

It was a quick ride on the Via Cassia, an ancient road, like the Francigena, from Rome up to Florence, to Bolsena and a view of the Lago Bolsena, which is a crater lake.  The country side has changed noticeably from large farms to smaller ortos, although I did see the best fields of corn outside of Kansas.  After Bolsena it was all up hill, 12km, Barbara's legs are screaming after who knows how many meters we have climbed, Scott is still hanging in there with his strong legs. 

We arrived in Montefiascone just in time for a late lunch, and did we have one.  We ordered a platter of pecoroni cheese with honey and fig jam, the most delicious cheese plate ever, who would have guessed there where so many different types of one cheese.  Barbara, staying true to her love of corn meal, ordered a polenta dish with bits of sausage, funghi and cream all served on a wooded trough, out of this world.

  

Bells chime on the quarter hour. On the hour, the time. At fifteen past the hour followed by one second bell. Thirty minuets past, the hour and two second bells. Quarter of, three bells. All night long. Not loud, but enough to be heard. Nice.

We are two days on the bike from Rome. It looks like tomorrow is going to be wet as well. The guide book warns cyclists from riding on the trail when it's wet. The clay surface becomes very sticky and will stop the wheels from spinning. We will see what the weather brings before we head out. 

Expect the worst and hope for the best. It's all one can do on the road to Rome.