Via degli Dei

The Via degli Dei officially begins in Piazza Maggiore, though many walkers arriving by train start at Bologna Centrale, 1.4km earlier — either way, stock up before you leave: fountains are scarce and there's nowhere to buy food again until Badolo. From Porta Saragozza the route climbs at once beneath the Portico di San Luca — 3.8km and 666 arches, the longest portico in the world — to the Santuario della Madonna di San Luca on its hilltop above the city.

Beyond the sanctuary, the descent follows the historic Sentiero dei Bregoli pilgrim path, then drops into the Reno river's wooded floodplain for a long, quiet stretch past the Oasi San Gherardo nature reserve, where a small memorial marks the Nazi massacre of fifteen civilians at Rio Conco in September 1944. At Vizzano, the path crosses the Reno on a striking suspension bridge, rebuilt after wartime destruction.

From Vizzano the route climbs again through Prati di Mugnano and the woods of the Parco della Chiusa before reaching the ridge above Badolo, where the day ends. Accommodation here is limited, clustered around Badolo, Brento and the base of Monte Adone — book ahead in peak season. Boots and trekking poles earn their keep tomorrow: the day begins with the steep climb to Monte Adone's summit.

The day opens with the Via degli Dei's signature climb: from Badolo, the path rises steeply through oak woodland to the sandstone tors and summit cross of Monte Adone. The guidebook itself calls the view from the top one of the finest on the whole route — leave a note in the walkers' logbook kept in a metal box by the cross. Hiking boots and trekking poles are genuinely useful on this ascent.

Beyond the summit, the ridge trail drops to Brento and follows the watershed between the Setta and Savena valleys, tracing the old Via Flaminia Militare past Monterumici, one of the most fiercely contested points on the WWII Gothic Line. It climbs once more to Monzuno, a ridge village rebuilt from rubble after the war, sitting at the foot of Monte Venere — and, along with Brento, one of only two places all day to find something to eat, since fountains are scarce the whole way.

The final stretch crosses open ridge past a row of wind turbines on Monte Galletto before descending to Madonna dei Fornelli, a crossroads village with a 1630 sanctuary built in thanks for the end of a plague. Early arrivals can add a there-and-back side trip to Lago di Castel dell'Alpi, a lake formed by a 1951 landslide.

This is the quietest stage of the whole crossing — hours of beech forest with barely a building in sight, much of it spent walking the arrow-straight line of the old Roman Via Flaminia Militare. The path climbs over Monte dei Cucchi and slips into Tuscany almost without ceremony, near the small Roman quarry where a chance find of an ancient coin first led archaeologists to rediscover the road beneath your feet.

At Piana degli Ossi, the exposed remains of Roman lime kilns sit forgotten under a modest shelter — a reminder of how much history this forest quietly keeps. Not far beyond, the path tops out at Monte Le Banditacce, 1,200m above sea level and the highest point of the entire Via degli Dei; from the Po plain two days ago to here is, for most walkers, the trip's true summit moment. The rest of the day runs gently downhill toward the Futa, past more strikingly well-preserved Roman paving at Poggio Castelluccio.

The stage ends at Passo della Futa, 903m and the watershed between Emilia and Tuscany, beside the German War Cemetery — around 30,800 Gothic Line dead lie beneath a stark, spiralling concrete terrace that is hard to walk past without falling silent. There is almost nowhere to buy food or water once you leave Madonna dei Fornelli, so stock up before setting out.

The route lingers on high ground a little longer, crossing the lonely Passo dell'Osteria Bruciata — a minor pass with a genuinely gruesome local legend attached to it, about an innkeeper who murdered and served up his guests, exposed only when charred remains were later dug up on the spot. From here the path begins its long, steady drop into the Mugello, the broad green basin the Medici once called home.

Sant'Agata, reached around midday, rewards a slow look: a Romanesque pieve founded in 984, its roof resting oddly and beautifully on six tall pillars, with an archaeological museum and a sacred-art collection that includes glazed terracottas from the della Robbia workshop next door. Walkers with energy to spare can add a short detour — about 1km — to Bosco ai Frati, a Franciscan convent rebuilt for Cosimo de' Medici that quietly holds a wooden crucifix attributed to Donatello.

The day ends at San Piero a Sieve, walking into piazza Colonna beneath the bulk of the Medici-era Fortezza di San Martino. It's the longest stage after the Apennine crossing itself, with almost 1,100m of net descent — knees will know about it by the end, so trekking poles are worth having out. As on the previous day, there's little chance to eat or refill water until the villages near the end, so carry enough to see you through.

Leaving San Piero a Sieve, the path climbs past the Castello del Trebbio, a Medici hunting lodge that Lorenzo the Magnificent loved enough to keep returning to, then winds on through Tagliaferro toward the abbey of Buonsollazzo — Benedictine first, Cistercian later, and briefly, in 1705, home to Italy's very first Trappist community before it was abandoned to the ivy.

The climb keeps going, all the way up to the Santuario di Monte Senario, founded in 1234 by seven Florentine merchants who gave up everything to found the Servite Order — still one of Tuscany's most important pilgrimage sites, with a small café on-site (closed 12–3pm, so time it right). It is, without question, the toughest climb since Monte Adone.

Past Caselline, the trees finally thin and the Florence plain opens out below for the first time — the first proof that the Apennines are, at last, behind you. The ridge reaches Vetta Le Croci, an old customs post on the border between Papal and Tuscan territory, but there's no bed to be had here: walkers peel off either to Bivigliano, on a short variant that's actually 1.5km shorter than pushing on to the crossroads, or to Olmo, 1km further along tomorrow's path.

The last stage is the gentlest of the trip: a climb to the pine-shaded plateau of Poggio Pratone, then a long, easy descent into Fiesole. Those who slept in Bivigliano rejoin the main route here, at a cost of 4.3km more than starting from Vetta Le Croci directly.

Fiesole is an Etruscan and Roman hill town in its own right, with intact walls, an amphitheatre and baths, and it offers one of the most celebrated views over Florence on the entire route — most walkers stop for a coffee before the final descent. The path down passes San Domenico, where Fra Angelico lived and painted.

The route enters Florence proper along via Boccaccio and piazza delle Cure, then crosses the city centre via piazza San Lorenzo and piazza del Duomo to finish, officially, at piazza della Signoria — the historic endpoint of the Via degli Dei, roughly 125km and six stages after leaving Bologna's own Piazza Maggiore.