Via degli Dei (Path of Gods), Italy

Late one summer, we set out to walk the Via degli Dei, an ancient pathway travelled since the time of the Etruscans. The 130-kilometre-long path crosses the beautiful Apennines, linking Bologna with Florence. It threads through forests, across mountain ridges and in and out of old Italian villages.

Pagan divinities give names to the mountains that the route crosses; Adonis, Jupiter, Venus and Lua, the goddess of atonement. They also give the route its name; the Path of Gods. 

In 187 BC, the Romans built the central stretch of the Via degli Dei, the Flaminia Militare, to maintain control over the Po Valley. Merchants and wayfarers used the path in the Middle Ages to travel between Emilia-Romagna and Tuscany, as did pilgrims on their way to Santiago de Compostela and Jerusalem. During the Second World War, it was part of a German defensive line constructed to slow the advance of the Allies. Today, the Via degli Dei is being rediscovered. As they explore the Apennines, modern-day pilgrims are helping to ignite local economies and breathe new life into depopulated rural villages. 

Day 1: Bologna to Prati di Mugnano (20 km)

Bologna has us enthralled. Its elegant arched colonnades; mediaeval quarters; Renaissance palaces; burnt orange and dusky pink hues; and its food. It is home to the oldest university in Europe (the oldest in the world is in Fez) and vibrant with students from all over the world. We wander its narrow streets, taking in the 21st-century street art and 12th-century leaning towers, one of which we climb for a 360-degree view over terracotta tiled roofs, lively piazzas and distant blue hills. We while away the balmy evenings, drinking Pignoletto, the local sparkling wine, in the cool of the Margherita Gardens.

Early one morning, we stand in front of the monumental 16th-century Fountain of Neptune with our walking companions, Marc and Miranda. Despite being commissioned by the Church, this arresting sculpture features a pagan god, Neptune, and four sensual sea goddesses. It’s an appropriate place to set out on the Path of Gods. 

The roofed Bolognese colonnades provide shelter to all those moving about on foot. We follow them out of the city, through the old city walls at Porta Saragossa to the portico that ascends to the Basilica of the Madonna of San Luca. Steep and almost four kilometres long, the portico has 666 archways. 666 is the devil’s number and with every step we take, we are symbolically leaving the devils of the city behind and coming closer to joining the Madonna in her realm of angels. The famed icon of the black Madonna and Child housed in the Basilica is believed to have been painted by St Luke and brought to Bologna by a Greek hermit in 1160. The faithful still make pilgrimages to the Basilica to venerate the icon and, during Ascension week, it is taken in procession to the Bologna Cathedral. 

The round, red Basilica sits atop a forested hill. It’s a celestial position, 300 metres above the plains with views over rolling green hills dotted with villas. On the terrace, we find the first of the Via degli Dei waymarkers. It leads us to a narrow, slippery, steep path down to the Reno river. A salamander, dead on the track. Memorials to resistance fighters who lost their lives in the Apennines during WWII. A story is told that here, on 8 September 1944, Nazi soldiers killed 15 civilians in reprisal for the death of two German officers. The voices of the murdered haunt this place and the weight of its history slow our pace.

A man who we ask for directions takes it upon himself to guide us from the track to a bar in Casalecchio di Reno. Soothed by his kindness, we sit with a coffee and soak up the warmth of the sun. Casalecchio is the site of a lock that has governed the flow of water from the Reno river to Bologna for 800 years. Once the ‘engine’ of Bologna’s famous silk mills, it’s still in operation although it no longer complies with the Italian motto that anything that is useful also has to be beautiful.

Wild cyclamens in flower. A Peregrine falcon’s nest, high up on a sandstone cliff. The musky scent of elder trees. We walk on into the afternoon, crossing wooded hills until we come to the grassy uplands of Prati di Mugnano. Tonight’s accommodation is just off the trail in a 2-storey dwelling built in the style of an ancient farmhouse. From its terrace, we look out onto olive groves, meadows and forested hills. We order pizza and wine from the nearby village and stay sitting around the table until the darkness gathers us in.

Day 2: Prati di Mugnano to Monzuno (22 km)

Last night we spoke with the son of our hosts, an engineer who worked to make air flights faster and is now tasked with increasing the number of fast trains in Italy. Despite his professional responsibilities, he asks: Why the need to travel so fast? We can only respond why indeed, content as we are to be spending five days walking the Via degli Dei (by fast train, we could travel from Bologna to Florence in less than an hour).

An owl calling throughout the night. A fire in the sky at dawn. A morning scented with pungent lavender, wild mint and gin-tinged Juniper. Late afternoon storms forecast. We enter a forest of 400-year-old oak trees and start to climb. As we ascend, we have views back to the Basilica di San Luca and a ridge line of dark green Cypress trees. 

Our path is a Roman road that takes us through the largest nature reserve in Emilia Romagna, all a-twitter with birds. The road was built in 187 BC to connect Bologna to Rome and control the Apennines. Although principally a straight road, it followed the peaks of the ridges to avoid ambushes and river crossings. Over time, the road disappeared. Ruined by neglect and covered by sedimentation, it remained a mystery until as recently as late last century. 

The remains of WWII troop carriers lie abandoned and graffitied in the forest. Mountain bikers hurtle down from Mt Adone, named for Adonis, the god of beauty. (Although perhaps it should be renamed for Hermes, the god of speed.) It’s a steep climb up but the views from the summit of the highest rocky massif in the Contrafforte Pliocenico natural reserve are breathtaking. Crumbling sandstone towers, distant high peaks, plunging canyons, war-scarred rock walls and the Grotta delle Fate, a cave frequented by fairies on the nights of a full moon.

We come down through forests of broom, oak and chestnut interspersed with holm oak and juniper scrub, vegetation more Mediterranean than alpine. Views out over the valley. At the foothill of Mount Adone is the town of Brento where we find a lively trattoria serving lunch to locals and wayfarers alike.  

A track lined with flowering heather. Woods that in autumn draw mushroom foragers from near and far. Scarlet flowering Spindle trees. Blue daisies. Peacocks and peahens, scratching in the leaf litter of an apple orchard. 

Monzumo, our home for the night, was once owned by a succession of lords and noble families. The village is situated on the northern ridge of Monte Venere, named for Venus, the Roman goddess of love, prosperity and victory. In WWII it was the centre of an insurgent movement led by Mario Musolesi, Il Lupo (the wolf). There’s a 14-metre cross on Mt Venere, erected as a symbol of peace and a tribute to those who lost their lives in WWII.

Day 3: Monzuno to Paso Della Futa (25 km)

The only other person at breakfast this early on a Sunday is a fellow pilgrim, from Quebec. A week-long conference in Milan left him longing for the silence and solace of nature so he set off on the Via degli Dei.  

A smoke-filled sky. The world still. A patchwork of undulating fields. Green where alfalfa is sprouting; golden brown where the fields are ploughed. A row of trees defining the boundary of each field.

We find our way onto a 2,000-year-old sunken Roman road that takes us through venerable beech, birch and fir forests before we reach the border between Emilia-Romagna and Tuscany. An old gatepost is the only marker. In the forest are the remains of a Roman lime furnace; six ancient kilns that produced lime for the construction of cities, forts and majestic works in the Roman colonies.

The elevation profile for today’s route tells of hilly terrain. Deep in the Apennines now, we walk through a grove of ancient chestnut trees. Great-girthed guardians of the forest, twisted with age and beauty. On the ground, Autumn crocus flowers appear, signalling the end of summer. Italian folk music drifts up from a village nestled into the folds of the landscape below the ridgeline.

Near Monte Bastione, we walk on several stretches of paving stone roads that are part of the Roman Via Flaminia Militare. The Roman legions built this ancient road with stones extracted from local quarries. Perfectly laid, one stone next to another, they are still in place 2,000 years later. The road runs metres below the ridge, sheltered from the wind. With each footfall, we connect to a history that stretches back to 187 BC.

In the late afternoon, after a day of relentless ascents and descents, we reach La Banditacce. At 1,200 metres, it’s the highest point of the Via degli Dei. There’s a bell to ring to thank the gods for seeing us here safely. Within our sights now is the Passo della Futa and the largest German war cemetery in Italy. Grey and foreboding, its 33,000 graves are a sombre reminder of war’s carnage.

Our host for the night ferries us to the mountain village of Conigliaro, six kilometres off the Via degli Dei. At dinner, we talk to a couple who spend their summers here. Their summer house, his family house, was requisitioned by the Germans in WWII and damaged in allied fighting. It was eventually returned to the family and repaired with Marshall Plan money. They’re writing a book, based on the stories of local WWII partisans who fought for liberation against the invading Nazi forces. 

Day 4: Passo Della Futo to Tagliaferro (32 km)

From the Passo della Futo, we look out across a cloud-shrouded valley. As the fog lifts, the Apennines reveal themselves. This long stretch of mountains and hills runs almost the whole length of Italy and shelters within its majesty the wild heart of the country. Home to many national and regional parks, the Apennines support a diversity of ecosystems and wildlife including brown bears, grey wolves, red deer and Apennine chamois. Its mountain slopes are covered with some of the oldest beech forests in Europe.

We walk on an undulating path, bathed in the bright green light of an ancient oak forest. Continuing to climb, we clear the tree line and reach the summit of Monte Gazzaro. There’s an iron cross and another memorial to Italian partisans. In inclement weather, the steep climb down from the summit could be treacherous. We’re fortunate it’s a fine day. As the gradient tapers off, we find ourselves on a lovely winding path sidling around the hills and descending down towards the valley floor. The warm air, scented with pine resin. Iridescent black beetles. Emerald green lizards. The lower slopes dotted with olive groves, cherry orchards and vines hanging with kiwi fruit. 

At lunchtime, we walk into the sunlit village of Sant’Agata di Mugello. In the pared-back Romanesque church is the beautiful Madonna delle Grazie, painted in 1383. During the Middle Ages, the church provided assistance to the travellers, merchants and pilgrims who were crossing the Apennines. Today, there’s a group of riders seeking respite in the shade, their horses saddled and waiting for their cobblestoned journey to continue. We stop for a meal of homemade ravioli, the most delicious we’ve ever eaten. 

We walk on, into the heart of Tuscany. The landscape becomes a classic, cultivated Tuscan scene. Soil the colour of raw sienna on one side and pink ochre on the other. Rolling hills. Ridgelines of tall, pointed dark-green Cypress trees. Olive groves. Elegant villas. The last of the season’s sunflowers. The Medici villa. Remote farms and villages. The late summer sun, warm on our backs. 

Each step is a joy until we come to the busy stretch of road that lies between us and our night’s accommodation. We have no option but to steel ourselves and walk as quickly and safely as possible. It’s a relief to arrive at the large, cherry-red house on the hill. Buildings like this one were once found every 50 kilometres or so along old Italian state roads. They were used to store road-making materials and, up to the 1980s, served as homes for the local Capo Cantoniere who oversaw regional road repairs. These red roadman’s houses are now being renovated to create hospitality-related job opportunities for young people as part of a sustainable tourism project. 

Day 5: Taglioferro to Florence (30 km)

Walking on a Roman road to a Roman camp, a large clearing strategically high above the valley with views to all approaches. Hannibal is said to have passed through here with the only elephant that survived the winter of 217 BC. 

Douglas fir forests. Ancient sequoias and cypress.The paths of truffle hunters. Just visible through the haze is the magnificent dome of the Florence Cathedral, 15 kilometres away as the crow flies. The track up to Il Giogo is steep and regarded by some as the most demanding climb of the Via degli Dei. Beyond it is the Way of the Sorrowful Mother. Its wayside shrines are a meditation on the seven principles of sorrow and lead to the Monastery of Monte Senario which sits high on a hill, overlooking the lush Mugello Valley. Founded in 1246, it is home to 10 monks who live a life of prayer, silence, hospitality and work. We sample the liquors made by the monks, the most famous being the Gemma d’Abeto, an aromatic and balsamic liquor enriched by the aroma of fir. 

Leaving the monastery we pass an abandoned ice house, built by the monks in the mid-1800s. It’s a cylindrical structure covered with a brick cupola and dug into the ground for more than 12 metres. During the winter, the monks cut slabs of ice from the nearby lake and kept them in the ice house to sell in the summer months to the thirsty citizens of Florence. Nearby are remains of Burraie, small ancient stone cheese cellars used for storing butter, cheese and milk.

There are more people on the trail today than we’ve seen to date, mainly young Italians notching up one last walk before the university year begins. 

We walk through forests and out into wildflower meadows with expansive views across to Fiesole and Florence. We relax, thinking the climbing is done, but soon enough there’s another peak to ascend and another mountain pass to cross. The spectacular views from the summit more than compensate for the effort.

There’s a tale told about Atlas who asked Apollo which was the most beautiful place in Italy. Apollo told Atlas to go down to the sea, up to the great river and onto a big hill. When Atlas arrived, he made the mountain top smooth and built walls and magnificent palaces, thus creating Fiesole. As dirt gives way to tarmac and we leave the woods behind, the gracious terraced gardens and Renaissance villas within the city’s high stone walls come into view. A haven for lovers of beauty, Fielsole could indeed have been made by gods. 

We linger in this ancient yet lively city and take in the views from the vantage point of its hills. Florence lies in the valley below, foregrounded by expanses of Tuscan green and backed by the blue mist of mountains. Taking the Via Vecchia Fiesolana, a narrow lane used since Etruscan times, we continue down tree-lined streets to Florence. First, there is the Duomo, built in dedication to the Virgin of Flowers. Its elaborate facade of green, pink and white marble is dazzling and, up close, its magnificent dome takes our breath away. But our destination lies a few minutes away. We walk past the tourist hordes to the glorious Fountain of Neptune in Piazza Vecchio. As we began our Via degli Dei, so we end it, in front of a colossal figure of Neptune, the God of water and the sea.

We spend a few days in the capital of the Renaissance, contently wandering its back streets, crossing and recrossing the bridges over the River Arno, eating in small restaurants, stumbling upon secret gardens, visiting the magnificent Uffizi Gallery early in the morning to have its rooms full of Renaissance masterpieces to ourselves, lauding the exquisite Fra Angelico frescoes at the less visited Convento di San Marco, taking in the splendour of the city’s architecture and the wealth of its history.

The Via degli Dei is not a difficult walk, although the constancy of the ascents and descents can test a person’s humour towards the end of the day. It’s an alluring path, following in the footsteps of Etruscan traders, Roman generals, Mediaeval pilgrims and Italian partisans on a journey through the lesser-known lands of the Apennines, the gods watching down from the mountain peaks.

If you would like to read about another walk through Italy, try our story of Crossing the Grand St Bernard Pass where we walk into Italy, passing the halfway mark of our journey from Canterbury to Rome, on the Via Francigena.