Italy
When we began, I asked rhetorically why anyone would want to leave France. The answer, of course, is to visit Italy!
But Italy in the Middle Ages was hardly the tourist destination it is today. It was a land of hard-eyed merchants and fiercely independent nobles who fought outsiders nearly as hard as they fought one another. Count Fulk is as much a stranger here as you or I, unable to speak the language and without connections. Only his noble status sets him apart, as our status as pilgrims sets all of us apart.
This picture is taken from the monastery of St. Michael's, about twenty-five miles from Turin. Shrines such as this one were popular stops along the way, offering a pious resting-place for the pilgrim.
But hardly more comfortable. By the time we have labored our way over the cruel Alps, we are more than ready for a stop in someplace civilized. Turin is the first town of any consequence we encounter in Italy. Nestled in the Val d'Aosta, its red skyline is a welcome site for the weary traveller.