Lucca: Luminaria festival, the Procession of the Holy Cross

Originally published on: Sep 16, 2008

(I'm having a hard time getting wi-fi in Lucca, so am writing these posts offline and posting them when I can find a few minutes of wi-fi use. To get it, I have to sit outside the tourist building and wait until it connects...but it often only lasts for a few minutes. Still, this is my favorite town, so I'm willing to deal with it. )

I always like to get my train ticket ahead of time, just in case, which is always a good idea in Italy. In fact, I usually do it the day before my trip, but just didn't bother this time. If I had, I would have known a train stike was in effect for all regional trains, from 9pm on Friday night to 9pm on Saturday night. Yep, folks, strikes are planned in advance and publicized here in Italy. Since I didn't know of the strike, when I arrived at the train station at 9 am, I wondered about the long lines in front of la biglietteria, where vendors sell tickets. Instead, I bought a ticket from a machine, but if I had just stopped to read the notice of the strike, I would have learned that my train to Lucca was cancelled, even though the machine sold me the ticket. So...I ended up standing in line for more than 40 minutes to ask if there was an alternate train I could take, as some trains were still running...to Rome, Milan and Naples. No such luck for Lucca. My only hope was to wait until 9 pm that evening.

Since I had 10 hours to figure something else out, I stashed my luggage at the station, and walked across the street to the Lazzi bus station. The proprietor of the hotel I'd stayed at had mentioned I could get a bus to Lucca if the trains weren't running. Sure enough, there were plenty of buses running that day, so I got a ticket, for almost the same price as the train, 5.10 euros. Train/bus travel is cheap in Italy, though obviously not dependable. Then I went back to the train station and stood in line for an hour to get my money back for the train ticket. It's best not to wait on these things, and I wouldn't be back to Florence for a month.

I returned to the bus station just as one was leaving for Lucca, but people were so frantic and pushy (mostly tourists), I decided to wait for the next bus in 30 minutes rather than wrangle for one of the few seats left. When the next bus arrived, I was one of the first ones on, but after we were seated, the driver announced we needed to change to another bus. Ah, life in Italy! As it turns out, the second bus was larger, with more room for luggage and many seats that were empty, so I had two seats to myself. On the ride to Lucca, I programmed my new cellphone with all my friends' phone numbers, and was surprised when we arrived less than an hour later at our destination...the train takes nearly 30 minutes longer!

I visited Lucca two years ago on my first trip to Italy, and vowed to come back. It's a town of about 100,000, but seems much smaller within the city walls. As soon as I got off the bus, I felt a sense of calm come over me. Quiet. Tranquil. Beautiful. Sigh....I knew at once I'd come to the right place.

Ostello San Frediano

I'm staying at Ostello San Frediano, a hostel where I stayed the last time and really enjoyed myself . Besides, it's cheap, at less than 20 euros/night. It's a huge marbled affair....which had its beginnings as a monastery, then a university, then a technical school from 1985-1995. After '95, it was turned into a hostel that has some 600 beds.

In the hostel with one of my roommates.

When I arrived in my room, I found an unfriendly young American woman who seemed annoyed that I was there. There were 8 bunk beds, and she informed me that all the lower beds were taken. I also noticed that the bathroom was down the hall, when I had reserved a room with an internal bathroom. I went down to the desk to inquire about it, and discovered they had made a mistake, but since the hostel was full for the night, I couldn't have a room with a bath until the next day. She told me to try the room next to mine to see if I could find a lower bed available, and I did, so I moved my luggage and claimed one of the lower beds.

Then I went out for a quick tour of my end of town. I was curious to learn why so many people were in Lucca, and why so many people from Florence had seemed so intent on getting there that day. It quickly became obvious: that night, September 13 was the night that Lucca celebrates its most important and solemn annual event, La Processione di Santa Croce, the Procession of the Holy Cross.

Getting the luminaria ready for lighting.

People come from all over the region and the world to participate and watch the procession, which lasts for several hours. Not only that, but all the buildings along the processional route are lit with luminaria, candles in glass containers that frame windows and doors and create a flickering glow.

Thousands of candles are placed along the parade route.

I walked along the route to take photos of the workers lighting the thousands of candles that would soon light up the night. The procession was to start at 8 pm at the church in the piazza near the hostel, and make its way across town to the Cathedral of Saint Martin. Around 6pm, I claimed a space on one of the few benches in the piazza near the Basilica of San Frediano in order to have a comfortable seat while waiting for the event to begin. An Italian woman sat down next to me, and I asked her if she was a Lucchese, a native of Lucca, and she answered, “Si.” For the next two hours we conversed in Italian, and she explained many things to me about the procession. She also shared with me one of Lucca's snack foods...croccante tenera, which tastes just like peanut brittle, only it has more peanuts than candy, and is formed into a rectangular bar.

Basilica di San Frediano.

I learned that the cross that leads the procession is always made in Viareggio, a nearby town, and is completely covered with flowers...a solid red cross with a circlular burst of small sunflowers in the middle. The procession consisted of people from various parishes in the region, the clergy from the churches, people from various community and volunteer organizations, people who have emigrated from Lucca to other parts of the world and who come back with their children and grandchildren for the procession, and finally, a historical parade of people dressed in medieval costumes. Everyone carried a lit candle, and the procession was punctuated by a variety of marching bands and drum corps. Each group had its own banner, and the procession lasted for 2½ hours, with those watching staying attentive for the entire time. I find this kind of ritual and tradition very moving, something I've not witnessed often in my own culture.

Basilica di San Frediano lit up for la festa.

I learned later that the procession dates back to 742 when the Holy Cross was moved from the church of San Frediano to the church of San Martino. Initially, only the Lucchesi and the clergy participated in the procession, but it has grown to include many others over the years, though the parade route and the meaning behind the event remains the same.

A view of the crowd watching the parade.

I feel as if I really lucked out to have been a part of this special event. And there's even more: after the procession, there was a fireworks display. About an hour after the parade, people gathered on the west side of the wall that surrounds Lucca. (The wall has a surface wide enough for a road, with ramparts that form small parks at 10 points around the wall. ) And then the fireworks began, and we stood and watched them for nearly an hour...one volley after another of beautiful colors exploding across the sky.

This my friend, is magic!

If I had waited to take the train, I would have missed out on all this magic, and beauty, and fun. The only thing that got in the way of it being perfect magic is that at some point during the evening, someone sliced the shoulder bag I was carrying with a knife, and my camera bag was either lost or stolen. I'm still not sure what happened. At one point, I remember feeling as if someone was standing too close to me, and I pulled my bag closer to me....perhaps it saved me from losing everything.

My camera, my coin purse (with my debit card and 200 euros) and my cell phone remained in the ripped bag, but my camera bag was gone. Luckily, my passport was safe at the hostel. The camera bag only cost me $3, and I found a nice leather one the next day at a market for 1 euro, so I'm not really bummed about losing it. But the bag is ruined...one I'd bought just for this trip, something more elegant than my backpack.

The main feeling I have about the incident is disappointment. Previously, I've always felt safe while traveling in Italy, and made a point of carrying my passport and money on my body, or in an inside pocket in my jacket instead of in my backpack or a purse. Perhaps I needed this reminder to be a little more cautious.

Enjoying a snack in the hostel.

When I got back to the hostel, I was welcomed by four friendly women in my room ... two sisters from Poland on their 10^th trip to Italy, a woman from Canada backpacking with her 19-year-old son, and a young woman from Washington state studying art for a semester in Florence. Two other women came in later, but I didn't get a chance to talk with them before every one settled down to sleep. In the morning, everyone departed for other destinations, and I moved to a room with a better view, a bathroom in the room, and the place to myself for the day. I'll be here for 4 more days, so there's more to come in my blog about Lucca and nearby towns. I'm taking lots of photos, but probably won't post them until I get home.