Stages 14b and 15: Belgioso to Santa Cristina e Bissone, and on to Orio Litta or nearly. Cyclists, bee-eaters and an unexpected journey. (Part 3)

On then, the sun really starting to beat down, alongside the railway I was planning to travel back on, and along a road actually designated Via Francigena, where, beginning to feel the heat, I stopped for a sandwich, and stood in the shade of a tree. 500m further on was a shady pilgrim oasis, which I only saw after I had started again.

By this time I'd pondered further on what the taxi driver had said, and thought it might have been something about a strike, which I vaguely remembered seeing or hearing something about the previous day in a station. As the Via today crossed and recrossed the railway lines I realised that there'd been no sight or sound of any, although I knew that they only run hourly on a Sunday.

On through Chignolo Po with its fabulous castle, 

the heat really becoming intrusive, and me clinging to every patch of shade as I headed to the tiny village of Lambrinia, where I knew the path passed next to the station, just a short distance from my original objective, Orio Litta. I took advantage of the shady seats on the platform, and thought I'd just see if the train that I knew was due shortly came in. Just as I sat down, there was an announcement that it had been cancelled. That didn't sound good.

I began to research buses and taxis online, and thought I'd got it sorted when the Trenitalia app allowed me to buy a ticket for a journey via Milan back to Pavia, but then, when I checked the train status, it told me that the rural connections I'd just bought were cancelled. Uber was no help. Then there were further tannoy announcements that there was disruption because of strike action.

Nothing for it, I thought, I'll leave this one-horse town and head to Orio Litta where there must be taxis. Rounding the next corner, I spotted a bar, and thought I'd ask there if they could call me a taxi. There was a very helpful English-speaking barman, who initially didn't believe there were no trains. He recommended a bus to Milan from the next town in the other direction, but we discovered that there was no service on a Sunday.

Meanwhile, he asked every client who came in if they knew of any local taxis. To a man (and they all were) they laughed and said "what, here?".

By this time, I began to accept I'd not get back to Pavia and planned to try for a pilgrim hostel in Orio Litta, supposing there was one. The barman called a Pavia taxi firm, who said they'd come out, and would call back with a price. While I was waiting for that, and expecting somewhere in the region of £100 or more, one of the customers came out and offered to drive me to Pavia. I could not believe his kindness. It was a 40km journey, and I did give him all the emergency cash I had fortunately squirrelled away in my backpack for just such an occasion, to cover his petrol, but it was an extremely kind gesture, and one of those great travel moments when you swing from hopelessness to relief.

As a result, I did not cover the last 4km to Orio Litta, but feel that is entirely justified, and I will sleep with an entirely clear conscience tonight.