Today was a terrific day out on the hill.The weather was just about perfect and there were just one or two steepish bits.As nothing went wrong, and everything was wonderful today, it is difficult to find anything to drone on about this evening.

We left from Brunate,  a real hill top community with lots of community events going on.

Tomorrow we shall have a preparation day in order to prepare for ferragosto, when Italy stops. First proclaimed by the Emperor Augustus in 18 BC the feriae Augusti originally lasted for all or most of August, now it is just one day but as we really want to carry on strolling over this holiday period we need to stock up tomorrow with maps and other long distance strolling materials.

Really, the most striking thing about today was the difference in culture between Italy and everywhere else we have visited as we strolled. We noticed at first some mountain bikers whizzing up a hill, but still chatting pleasantly not having the grim fixed faces which we usually see. For runners it was very much the same as they zoomed past on their way up and then back down. The hills were full of strollers out for the afternoon. There were people of all ages, levels of fitness and speed. Most of the people we saw had a purpose for being on the hill, to find a small restaurant, to fly a glider, to have a picnic and most of all to put down a towel and do a bit of sunbathing. Every hill we climbed had a group of people on it doing one or more of these activities. We even saw an ordinary field lower down with loads of cars parked around the edge and people dressed in beach clothes behaving as if they were at the beach or pool side, “how unusual” we thought.

So the stroll continues, but not tomorrow

I am feverishly trying to remember what happened yesterday as, due to the blog server failing, I couldn’t write it up before it diminished over the horizon of my fevered brain. At the moment the means by which I add stuff to the blog is running no faster than a snail so what I do remember gets lost before the thing updates, IT people are a pain.

We set off with no real plan of how we were to get from Erba to Lecco as the original plan to follow the low road alongside a busy road, but also a pleasant lake, was revealed to have no actual footpath by it, unlike the map, which showed a footpath clearly using a thick red line.

The map of the route will show that we did find a way which avoided roads and gave us fabulous walking country as well. For the most part the going was steepish but not difficult underfoot.

At first it appeared that road avoiding tactics had failed but crossing over a pedestrian crossing revealed our first walker’s red and white signpost for the day, pointing to a flight of stone steps leading upwards and in the right direction, but not on the map. Being people who go upwards we went up the stairs, optimistic that it would lead to Castelmarte, the village we were aiming for.

The stairs went up and up and up. When we saw the place we were heading towards from below it looked impossibly balanced on a mountain side, on arrival it appeared, as usual, to be quite normally placed.  We emerged at the top right in the village, and met an elderly gent’ who gave us some advice about which of the paths would be best for us and who shook our hands when we told him what we were doing in his village. He did say that the views were better up the Eiger and Jungfrau where he used to work.

We spent quite a while trying to find the footpath to get out, and eventually were rewarded with another red and white sign pointing to exactly where we wanted to go, and were off down a leafy lane where few cars would go. We felt very much at ease by the landscape and were delighted to see fences held together with binder twine, just like at home.

We strolled into a small town called Canzo, refreshed ourselves at a bar, and strolled about admiring the charming and historic nature of the architecture before leaving in an uphill direction again.    Continuing onwards and upwards we overtook an elderly lady strolling to visit her sister, Janet seemed to think that the sister was 103 years of age, but I’m not sure as the woman telling the tale didn’t look a day over 85 or 86.  She was very fit, though, as she chatted away to us as we all strolled relentlessly up the hill.  She gave us excellent footpath advice, and knew all about walking in the area.

Leaving villages behind and climbing further we found ourselves in a fabulous wood with dappled sunlight and hundreds of butterflies.

I have realised that I know absolutely nothing of flora and fauna in these mountains and am really feeling the lack. The yellowish butterflies in the photo below were everywhere and seemed to prefer the flowers shown in the photo.

Before getting down off the hills we did manage to make one or two mistakes, one where we took advice from a bloke sitting on a rock with two teenage archers in tow. It transpired that he didn’t know any more than we did but, that was our fault for not checking.

When one has climbed up and up and up the moment comes when one needs to go down and down and down. This down and down and down was quite tricky in places as the ground was very steep and the soil dry, resembling ball bearings.  There had been no wide views, even at our highest point, as the mountains were totally tree-covered apart from one or two rocky outcrops, rather Stiperstone-like, but as we came down, we had the occasional glimpse of Lecco and the surrounding country below.

Arriving at Santo Tomaso refuge and chapel we could see Lecco in more detail below us. A few miles to go certainly, but well within sight now.

As we strolled over the bridge into Lecco, towards a welcoming beer and bath, we both agreed it had been one of the best days yet.

The great stroll continued today after a few days of semi rest. As we were only intending to have a short stroll of about 10 miles today we didn’t start particularly early. The morning was cloudy with mist hanging over the mountains. The temperature was somewhere near 25C but not too hot to handle. We set off down the lake side from Lecco and were very grateful that the cycle path, shown on the map, existed on the ground.  Not all of the lake side was beautiful but people had already set up for the day on the shingle with beach umbrellas and loungers.

The stroll down the lake was very enjoyable, improved by a brioche and a glass of water.

Arriving at Calolziocorte we found a fountain. Before setting off upwards we had some lunch sitting by the fountain with our drinks chilling nicely.

We were to find that none of the paths we needed for today’s stroll had been marked by signs or by paint so we needed to do quite a lot of proper navigation. One path had mysteriously turned into a road, which was confusing.

We spotted a crumbling set of stone steps leading upwards and, more or less, in the right place. The steps were overgrown and nettled but I thought it was worth a try. In the end we had to give up as we were overgrown and nettled and someone had dumped a huge pile of earth where earth shouldn’t have been. nothing for it but to retrace our steps and try somewhere else.

The sun became hotter as the day wore on and we wore out. Thankfully, the unnamed path to our destination existed and, although steep, gave us no trouble at all.

When we returned to our place of rest the land lady had left a note on our door to the effect that we must pack our belonging and relocate. I rang our land lady, who gave us a garbled reason for the move, plus assurances that the new place was loads better than the old. Our new place of residence looks like a private apartment, although there is another chap staying in one of the bedrooms. The kitchen is not well appointed in terms of utensils but I think that it will be a quieter location. All very odd really!

Tomorrow we start strolling very early as we have a long stroll to do with lots of up up and  much down down with lots of horizontal distance as well.

Our new place of residence was certainly more tranquil than the place from which we moved and I slept like an ordinary person last night .

The weather here has been warmish for the time of year and we have developed a fan dependency. Fans don’t really cool things down but they do give the illusion that things are not as hot as one thought. Sadly, the new lodgings have no fan and, in addition,  because Janet spotted ants in the kitchen, I thought that I should send an email to our hostess asking for a fan and some assistance with the ants.

We set off early looking forward to a terrific stroll on the mountains and a cooling fan in our bedroom and no ants in the kitchen when we returned.

Today’s stroll was going to be quite long and also fairly tricky in places but it looked as though it would have a high ridge to cross giving huge views down on either side. The climb up to the first top went on a bit, but as we had spotted beforehand that much of today would be above 4,000 ft, we were prepared for it.

The experience of yesterday made us a little concerned that the path which we needed would be difficult to find.

We should not have been concerned as the path was clearly marked and had its own number.

We struggled upwards to the first of today’s summits and found Italian sunbathers already setting up for the day.

Feeling pleased with ourselves we enjoyed the stunning views but found the first descent a bit rough.

We spent most of today above the 4000 ft mark and found the air pleasantly cool. We had forgotten that the sun was just as strong as it is at sea level and strolled about wiping our brows and other glowing parts of our anatomy without thought. The person proudly standing on the cliff top is gradually turning into a Neapolitan ice cream, red white and brown.

We had the intention of strolling for about 20 miles today but our natures got in the way. We seemed to find ourselves having a chat with most of the people we passed on the trail. One of the most surprising things today was Chiosco Del Passo Valcava. We emerged from a steep climb covered in moisture and in front of us was a kiosk selling pane and cotechino, drinks, pizza. In addition there were umbrellas under which to relax. A group of people were enjoying the views, the sun and a cooling drink. After an ice cream and a chat about this and that we were presented with some tee shirts by the owner. If you find yourself in this part of Italy you must have a drink here.

On the way down from the highest points of today’s stroll the going became very difficult. The descent was long and steep with small stones and granules of soil underfoot, plus sections of rocks to negotiate. I was very fortunate to stay upright but Janet slipped over once or twice. She is now so tough that she didn’t feel a thing, thank goodness.

As we descended towards Strozza we could hear voices chatting below us. When we drew level with this jolly party we passed the time of day and discussed Midsummer Murders, amongst other things. We were able to reassure them that the British countryside is as beautiful as shown but far less dangerous.

By now we were way off the pace but, we are not in a race after all so  we didn’t really care as we had had a great day out and met some lovely people.

At Strozza we were running out of steam really. We passed a chap waiting for a bus and asked him if the bus for which he was waiting was going our way. He told us that it was and we decided to eat and catch the bus. We shall now have to catch the bus back in the morning in order to continue strolling. It transpired that our informant was from the Ivory Coast. As we waited for the bus another bloke turned up and we all felt very international as he was from Ghana but had been living in Italy for twenty years.

When we returned to our place of rest we found no fan and some ants. A real bonus for us though is that the desperate shortage of lavatory paper is now at an end and we can both relax.

Today’s stroll was a real Sunday morning stroll in every sense. We turned up on the bus and continued from where we had left off yesterday. We spotted our Ghanaian acquaintance of yesterday strolling in the other direction and shouted jolly greetings in English across the road to each other.

The footpath, for today, appeared to be a ‘dotted line’ footpath. These ‘dotted ilne’ footpaths are usually less comfortable than ‘solid line’ footpaths and we allowed  quite a lot of time in case there were difficulties.

The footbridge across the valley gave a great view of the river, and the gorge through which it passes. Once over the bridge we could see directions for road runners. This notice seemed to suggest that we should be overwhelmed by hordes of earnest racers. We were disappointed when we saw just one person in running kit passing sweatily on his way. The runner looked quite splendid with his long grey hair and long grey beard.

It was a really pleasant surprise to find that the path had been transformed into a ‘solid line’ path. The path was flattish and easy. We could see that it had been difficult in the past and were delighted that those days had passed.

The path was just a pleasant day’s stroll, perfect for a Sunday morning. We were enclosed by trees and were protected from the ever increasing heat of the sun. The temperature was, apparently, 35C today and will be rising to 37+C as the week goes on. We are delighted to be returning to the high passes once again where we shall feel cooler.

Seeing the notice about a lost bunch of keys we wondered if they were ever reunited with their owner.

Our map showed us that we could do the final leg of today’s stroll on a cycle path. We now know that a cycle path along a road just means that cyclists might like to go that way. It doesn’t necessarily mean that there is a separate path for cyclists. Today’s cycle path went along a narrow road with no pavement.

Hot Sundays encourage Italian motorcyclists to emulate the exploits of Valentino Rossi. One person passed me at high speed but did give me a margin of error of about two feet so we both survived this close encounter. The turbulence from the passing bike felt like a physical blow.

A group of people were preparing for an outdoor musical event as we passed on our way through Ubiale. It appeared as though the bar was closed and just offering drinks for the helpers but we asked for a drink anyway and sat under their canopy relaxing and getting ready for the last half mile.

As we sat drinking a beer in the bar at Sedrina a bloke spotted the map and asked where we had been etc. We told him that we were going to Selvino tomorrow and he not only told us where we should find the start of the track we should follow but that walking in Austria is loads better than Italy as the paths are better and have more reliable signs. With this powerful endorsement he gave me a sketch map of the route we should take with the lunchtime restaurant clearly marked. This man loved walking and had his priorities firmly in order.

Many apologies to anyone who has had a go at reading the daily outpouring from me today. The people who host these pearls of prose have had a few problems with their cloud and intend to blame all incompetence and lack of alternative provision on that. With a bit of luck all will be well very soon.

Here in Italy a cloud or two would improve things for farmers and the trees we see each day in the mountains. At half past eleven tonight (Italian time), now in fact, the temp is a cool 31C.

We started the day by sipping a cappuccino and a hot chocolate in order to wash down a brioche or two in the bar at Sedrina. As we were finishing the last delicious drops and crumbs the chap we had been chatting to yesterday turned up and, when we were ready to start strolling, came along with us in order to show us where the path began.He kept up a  very sprightly pace as we tore up the hill.

Wandering about in the woods wasn’t quite as easy as Mario made it seem. We went this way and that but knew that we needed to find Prati Parini. When we saw a sign nailed to a tree saying ‘Prati Parini this way’ we were more than delighted.

It is still a surprise when we have steamed our way up steep paths and wandered over narrow ledges to arrive at an oasis with shade and cooling drinks. An elderly gentleman was sitting in the shade with a few wasp traps on the table and we drank a coke and chatted with him about the dry weather, which country we came from, local tragedies in the paper and also about an event which took place in 1945 when he was just a 17 year old youth gathering in the hay harvest on the hill. I suppose that, we being British, he felt able to talk about it to us. This event was still very much in his mind, even after all of the years which have passed. He gave us a lot of good mountain advice as well which helped us enormously on the trail today.

We set out once more on our stroll and had a few near misses with our navigation. For some reason the paths were well marked until it became necessary to make a decision. At one point we found ourselves in the yard of a mountain cottage and had to apologise for the intrusion. The ladies standing in the yard preparing lunch were surprised that we we had strolled from England and we managed to coax the youngest person present to say ‘Hello!’

We have encountered a few scrambles today but nothing really awkward. even the ledges have been benign with no really silly drops to think about as we made our chatty way over them.

The scrambles look fairly tame in this photo so I can’t understand why they took us so long to climb.

The heat has been something to write home about today and we were warned by all of the people we met that there was very little water on the hill this year. Arriving at an unknown and unnamed village we were not all sure of our way and had a minor water shortage. We asked a chap if he knew where the footpath went and he called his daughter. His daughter gave us the full chapter and verse of the final part of our stroll and also gave us copious quantities of water and some cold tea.

After a few more miles we could see Selvino below. It was a very welcome sight.

We finished the non strolling part of the day with a trip on a cable car and a tram ride, perfection. To finish off all of this delight the bus driver wouldn’t take any money for the fare and we are wearing our chioscho tee shirts.

Today has been a truly wonderful day in the hills. We needed to do quite a lot of navigation today. I don’t know how we will cope when we know where we are every day and how to get to places without a map and a bearing.

Our starting point of Selvino is quite a tourist honeypot  and we were quite surprised by the hordes of people wandering about. Before setting out on the stroll we needed some essential supplies, brioches and sun cream. Finding a farmacia for the sun cream was more difficult than we thought that it would be as they are usually on every corner. Clutching our defence against the devouring sun we set out to find a baker. The first baker had a long queue waiting so we moved to the next, same story so nothing for it but to join the queue.

Rather than trying to describe the day I have attempted to add a photo gallery of the day. It is a shame that it is impossible to record, in a photo, the smells of the aromatic plants which come to us in the warm breezes, we shall have to do all this again when we forget.

The profile of the route shows a continuous down, down, down and it is more tricky than you might think to be going downwards for ages.

We have a long and hot stroll organised for tomorrow. With the assistance of an insistent, persistent alarm clock we shall rise early and try to beat the sun to the punch

[nggallery id=14]

The sun has had his hat on in Italy for quite some time so we stole away in the early hours this morning in order to get started before the sun had got up.

It seemed as though today’s stroll would involve a lot of up and down. It also seemed as though the up and down would involve a few places where some care would be in order.

More tomorrow……. zzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

________________________________________________

Janet speaking here – I am putting in extracts from my diary for today, as time has gone on, and we had such an exciting descent to Sovere.

Wednesday 22^nd August

Day 140

Today was another  scorching hot day, but we set off on our walk at about seven thirty, which was good, as there was a fresh breeze and the sun wasn’t too hot.  We walked to Colzate and then up a steep hill to some little towns on the other side of the Seriana valley.  They were very pretty towns, especially Gandino which had an ancient basilica, and it all looked very historical.

We left Gandino on the correct road, after some advice from locals, who directed us downwards to get on to Valle Piana, which is where we needed to go to get to Sovere.  The first thing we found was a fontana at which we refreshed ourselves as well as re-filling our bottles.  There was a man drinking from it when we arrived, and then another man arrived on a scooter, and filled up a great water container.  We speculated to each other that his mother refused to drink any water that wasn’t from this fontana, which had engraved on it “fonte dei nonni” (fountain of the grandparents).  Anyway, the water was delicious.

Today was a day of up up up and down down down down.  Valle Piana was a narrow valley, tree clad and steep.  We followed the sentiero which followed the road to start with, and then it went off on its own path, which was even steeper.  We climbed steadily after spraying ourselves with insect repellent – flies and other insects surrounded us unpleasntly within seconds of leaving the road and going into the woods proper.

Once on the road again, we overtook a retired couple and chatted to them for a few minutes before continuing.  They were going to a malga called Malga Lunga, which was marked on our map as a rifugio with a museum for the resistance (from WWII), which we had thought would be good place to stop for dinner.  We had our picnic there with fizzy water and beer from the malga, which was paid for by donation.  We gave generously, as we had had a good look at the museum as well, which was very interesting.

We continued on our way after lunch, going onto a different path – and  everything was now down down down in a big way.  We made a mistake where there wasn’t a sign, and went up steeply for twenty minutes or so.  We realised that it must be totally wrong, and indeed that we might be stranded with cliffs between us and Sovere were we to continue, so we retraced our steps.  After that, the down down down was really really steep.  So steep in fact that there was a part called a scala (steps, ladder, or staircase) with thick steel wires to hold on to while going down.  I preferred it to the other parts that weren’t quite so steep as one could feel confident about not slipping with the wire to hold on to.

Eventually we came out of the woods and could see Sovere with Lago d’Iseo behind.  We have now reached Val Camonica – the last valley before Val del Caffaro and Valle Chiese!!  We can scarcely believe it.

No internet here, perhaps a little refreshment instead and continue the scribbling tomorrow,

__________________________________________

 Another extract from my diary coming up for Day 141.  Fancy being on Day 141!

Thursday 23^rd August

Day 141

6.0 pm

We are now in Lovere, and in a few minutes we will catch the bus to have a stroll, not too far, we hope to get here officially.  It is very, very hot, so we thought we would stroll this evening.

This morning, we left the flat where we had been staying very gladly, and then got some walking poles for Mike before leaving Bergamo. (He had totally broken one of them on the steep descent yesterday, and the other wasn’t in very good condition either.)  On our way to the bus station, although knowing the way perfectly well, we had one of our chattery jobs, and coming to ourselves and looking around, realised we were miles out the wrong way.  We had crossed Via Papa Giovanni XXIII instead of going down it.  Jolly irritating.

However, we got the bus which stopped right outside the hotel in Lovere – very convenient.  We checked in, and found we had been allocated a bedroom with twin beds across the room from each other – fine for children.  The receptionist changed us to a double room (“matrimoniale” in Italian, very descriptive), much more satisfactory, and which, although slightly dark, has air conditioning and a fridge.

Later

We are now officially in Lovere.  We had a lovely walk, which we hadn’t really been expecting as we thought it might have been on busy roads.  However, we walked along the road to some hairpin bends, and then found footpaths, eventually leading down to the lake, though first going over a little wooded hill – nothing to us by recent standards.  So we only walked about four miles or so, I imagine, mostly on footpaths, and very pleasant it was, with it having taken place in the evening.

Today has been a strange sort of day in some respects. It has reminded me mildly of the exploits of the Grand Old Duke of York.

We awoke early in order to get a good breakfast before setting out for Artogne, the jumping off point for the last leg of the stroll. The breakfast time was clearly set to start at 7:15 and when we arrived an elderly gentleman was setting out a few odds and ends. We bade him a cheery “Buongiorno” but got little response as he continued with his methodical, but stately, progress. Hoping to get away smartly we started to find stuff to eat, a hard boiled egg, some processed cheese, a roll or two and some orange juice. At length the brioches appeared and we ate two of those. We were till invisible to the elderly gent, who continued to bring out tarts, cheeses, cold ham. We were still invisible and left without coffee or tea.

The morning air was relatively cool and we made very good initial progress along the lakeside. After a mile or two we were feeling the lack of our early morning pick me up so called in at a bar. As we were sipping we had a chat with the young person in charge. When I went to the loo she asked me what I thought of the four or five portraits of Diana, Princess of Wales which she had hanging on the walls. I made only a muttered reply as she had been kind to us.

Refreshed tea, coffee and chat we carried on with new enthusiasm. It was a shame that we were heading in completely the wrong direction. As usual a bout of chatter had broken out and we hadn’t spotted our obvious mistake. We had only strolled half a mile in the wrong direction so all was not lost.

Once we found ourselves back on the correct track we also found a cycle way which took us off the busy road and into pleasant countryside. Our map was not the reason for our downfall today but it is woefully out of date we learned, a large road was missing and it now appears that one of the paths we were to use in the hills no longer exists.

Artogne proved to be delightful little village and we were pleased to have arrived early in order to find accommodation and somewhere to have lunch. For the last day or two our access to the internet has been difficult otherwise we would have known  that there was no accommodation in Artogne. We learned this news from a policeman. He seemed suprised to be asked for tourist information but gave it readily. Somewhat crestfallen we went into a bar and asked where the bus stop to Lovere was to be found. The response that there was no bus to Lovere was disappointing but Janet was fairly certain that, if we walked back to the main road, about half a mile I should think, that we should find a bus stop and perhaps a restaurant for lunch. At the bus stop we realised that there was no bar nor restaurant nor shade and that the next bus was not due to leave for two hours. We retreated to a wall where there was some shade and we had a conference. When I was at work it was always difficult to keep people to the matter in hand, our conferences are always to the point, short and have actions  to be taken and a strict timescale for completion. We decided to retrace our steps to Lovere, to eat at the first restaurant with a “pranzo di lavoro” and to have Saturday and Sunday as days of rest in Lovere before setting out once more on the last leg.

The heat of the sun was stronger by the time we set off back and it was a pleasure to paddle through the ford we paddled through on our way to Artogne. Finding a restaurant on the edge of Lovere was such a relief. We drank a litre of water each as we ate, not having had any water with us as we had been sure that Artogne would provide.

After a long sleep I went out to the mobile phone shop and bought a data SIM for the mifi gadget, no more guesses for us. Janet went and bought a new map, again no more guesses for us.

This evening we have enjoyed a free open air concert given by Armonie in Pizzico which is part of the Lovere weekend of art. Lovere is really alive tonight  with people enjoying the free displays a

[nggallery id=15]

The map shows our first error quite nicely, it doesn’t show the trek back to Lovere though!

Today we have truly surpassed our previous best in the ‘getting lost and wandering about on a mountain’ race. It all started well in that we found the starting place which we had marked on our previous day of failure. We set off up the steep rocky path remarking how light our packs felt after getting rid of the kettle, hot water bottle and other weighty materials.

I casually looked at the GPS, which is not quite as useful now as I have no base mapping and am using a road map, this casual glance suggested that we were going up the wrong side of the valley and of the river. We held a conference and decided to retrace our steps and find the correct starting point.

I have inserted the map at this point to give a better idea of our day of navigational shame.

Having crossed the river and found the new path we headed up and up and up. Arriving at a sign pointing to where we thought e needed to go we changed direction and headed up and up and up. A chap we passed said that going up and up and up was the thing to do, so we did it. We found a nice meadow and ate a delicious lunch of tomato, grana,  bread rolls and other stuff.

Setting off from lunch we went up and up as directed and into someone’s private meadow. As there was no path to be seen we zoomed across the meadow in a shifty manner towards a wood. We found a steep bank of soil between us and, we didn’t know what. Scrambling up the soily bank we found ourselves back on a road, but didn’t know which one and where it went. We followed the earlier advice and went upwards. I think that we made a further three fairly big blunders before we got on to an asphalt road, which led to Monte Campione.

Having arrived in Monte Campione it should have been a piece of cake from now on one would think. I had downloaded the coordinates of our refuge from Google Maps, so no surprises that it was wrong I suppose. Monte Campione appears to be a ski resort and does not have a centre in the sense that most Italian towns have a centre. Monte Campione does have poor road signs and lots of similar looking concrete small apartment building. We wandered about a lot, as shown on the map. we asked a few people for directions and they all were very helpful. Had the people we asked been residents I suspect that the helpful advice would have been useful.

At last we found ourselves in a holiday complex and asked a bar person for directions. She gave us perfect directions, which we misunderstood almost completely. We passed our place of rest clearly marked bed and breakfast and climbed up and up again to a bar. A jolly group of people were soaking up the sun and drinking aperitifs, they were astonished that we had actually walked from the UK to their bar, after today’s navigation I am quite surprised myself.

The waiter pointed downwards to the roof we had passed on the way up and we set off once more.

Our host’s husband suggests that we can walk to Passo Maniva tomorrow. He thinks that it will take about six hours. We have learned that if one knows a mountain then it is possible to move as quickly as that. If the paths are marked in some way then even a stranger can move quite quickly if paying proper attention. We think that if the path is not waymarked then we can stroll to Passo Maniva tomorrow but it will take a lot longer than six hours. The  route appears to rise no more than a further 1000 mtrs and is no more than 2300 mtres at the highest point. It even looks as though it might be flattish on the top so we should get there before it gets dark. So, that’s it really for today. If we don’t need to spend tomorrow night in a hut we could be in Bagolino on Wednesday.

I hardly know where to start this evening. I can only manage to think of superlatives to describe today’s stroll, so I shall calm down with a cooling beer before pressing the keys .

The advice we were given by our host’s husband, that we could do this section of the stroll in one day, was absolutely right. I’m not sure that this would have been true four months ago though.

The day started with a steady climb upwards along a winding, bending road. The sun shone brightly and a cool wind cooled our fevered brows as we marched upwards.

As we climbed further and further upwards we found ourselves being presented with one last glance backwards to Lago d’Iseo and to Lovere. This one last glance happened several times as the road twisted and turned back on itself and was always a surprise.

Once off the beaten track we were actually walking on quite a beaten track. For much of this early part of the stroll we were able to stroll along side by side and arm in arm.

I really wish that a photograph could capture the staggering beauty of the mountains in which we have spent today. As I take these photographs I know that they cannot convey what we see but still I snap away.

We ate our lunch sitting on rocks below the climb up to the pass of the seven crosses “passo delle sette crocette”. Some of this climb was a scramble but we didn’t need to drop to all fours so it must have been easy really.

I’m not really sure if the white stuff on the distant hills is snow or just pale rock. The blighters are high enough to have snow on them but at a distance one can’t really tell.

The people we have met on the hill today have needed a bit of convincing that we have strolled from the UK or even that we have strolled from Monte Campione today. They have said something to the effect that this is typical British behaviour.

Approaching our resting place for tonight, just before the Passo Maniva, Janet believed that she could see a huge body of water in the distance. I couldn’t see it as water as the light was beginning to fade but she was adamant that it was a lake. What lake could it be, we wondered! Janet thought that it might be Lago di Garda but, surely not! We passed the time of day with a chap doing a circular walk in the hills on our way to the final descent who said that it was indeed Garda. We really are close to home now.

Our navigation has been faultless today. The three valley path is really well marked with blue and white painted markings where they are needed. Where special skills might be needed to do a particular section this is well signed. Knowing that we are not going to encounter a nasty descent without equipment gives one a very relaxing sense of wellbeing.

The only slight deviation from navigatory perfection was not caused by our inattention to detail but by the construction of a massive ski lift. This structure straddled our path and had no way markings anywhere. This massive structure was not on the map!!! We blundered onward anyway and were delighted when Janet kicked a stone bearing our old friends the blue and white marks painted brightly on it.

We have two more days of official strolling left. What to do next?

We set out from room 101 this morning with a real sense of unreality that we were so close to the end of this fabulous experience.

The sense of unreality was compounded by the sight of seven or eight horses strolling about on the mountain road in a carefree manner. The traffic and the horses both respected and ignored each other and the horses drifted off into the distance.

We were both very pleased that we stopped yesterday’s stroll before we got to Passo Maniva as it is very much ‘home territory’  for us and we had the illusion of still being far away.

Finding the footpaths has been quite an entertainment for us over the last months. Many paths are not on the map, others are on the map but don’t actually exist and some maps fail to agree with their fellow cartographical chums on where roads and paths which do exist actually go. Today continued in this same entertaining way so was not an anticlimax. We found the place at Maniva Pass where the path should begin but it was an elusive little blighter and even the girl in the bar didn’t know what had happened to it. a country chap suggested that the best thing to do was to follow the narrow road to Bagolino as we could depend on that.

The bulk of today’s chatter has been devoted to ‘I can’t believe that we have actually done it’ comments as we strolled along.

We did manage to find part of  the elusive path  we needed and followed it through woody glades and over babbling brooks. At one point we found ourselves in someone’s  backyard. We were directed back to the path but not until we had enjoyed a refreshing glass and a chat about how we happened to find ourselves in their back garden.

Approaching Bagolino  increased the sense of unreality as it was all so familiar yet different because we were on foot and not on our way somewhere or coming back. We could hear a pick up truck approaching behind us which stopped and inside said pickup was a chap we have known for years. How he recognised us from the back and with unusual clothing and rucksacks I don’t really know.

We are spending the night in a bedroom above a restaurant in which we have eaten many times before. We ate a fabulous supper tonight with friends Gabriella and Giorgia, Giorgia couldn’t understand why we couldn’t come home with them in the car and were going to walk home tomorrow.

We set off from Gravels Bank the day before the full moon. We have arrived in Ponte Caffaro the day before a full moon. Tomorrow will be a blue moon so we have completed our stroll ‘once in a blue moon’.

Bagolino is a very beautiful ancient hill town, visit it if you can. The streets are narrow and have small shops selling bread or cheese or other stuff. Our bedroom of last night was at the top of the building and the roof of the house opposite was close enough to be touched with a shortish pole, if you like doing that sort of thing.

We had two choices as to how to get to Ponte Caffaro today. Both would have been delightful I am sure but we have always wanted to cross the mountain between Ponte Caffaro and Bagolino. A few years ago we nearly made it over the top but circumstance prevented the historic crossing, so, today I think that we had each decided which way we were going to go as the planning meeting lasted about five seconds, ending with unanimity.

Some people reading this stuff will be familiar with the Via dei Portici at Bagolino.  The Via dei Portici is the ancient road into and out of Bagolino where the medieval shop fronts can still be seen although not somewhere where goods can be purchased today. We were delighted that we could leave Bagolino via this ancient road this morning as it seemed a perfect start to the final stroll.

These cobbled streets have been trodden on by countless people through the ages. At carnival these ancient narrow streets are full of dancers and musicians, today, all was tranquil as we made our way towards home, a bed, a washing machine, a change of trousers and………… well you know what I mean!

Finding the path over the mountain was not quite as straightforward as we had expected, although why this should have been so I cannot imagine. On finding the path we had little to do as navigators as there was only one path. We did have a close encounter with a large dog who, it transpired, was very friendly.

Bagolino in the distance

Bagolino appeared and disappeared many times as we zigged and zagged along the hillside gaining height slowly. It can be quite disorienting to see the same thing, in the same place, but lots lower down.

We eventually arrived at what was obviously going to be a crest, could this be the moment where we would see the lake at last? I

We were rather overcome when we saw the Lake. It has been something rather special for us for a long time so we enjoyed the moment for quite a few moments.

Finding the last bit of the path was not easy but I do remember, a few years ago, going to find wild asparagus with a friend and using the path we were on to get back home in an Ape, it was as steep as I recall.

We still find it hard to believe that is all over.

After having enjoyed a few glasses of grappa I suspect that closing for tonight is probably the best course of action.

This week has been devoted to IKEA. We have a FIAT Punto for transport. The Punto is very economical and sure footed on narrow bendy roads. The Punto is not very good at carrying large flat packs of furniture. The driver and passenger of the Punto endured acute discomfort in order to get home the IKEA wonders of cupboardly ingenuity. As one casually drifts around the waymarked floor of the IKEA store and lists all of the items needed it is always a surprise when one gets the stuff home to find that the cupboards do not miraculously make themselves. Not only do the cupboards not make themselves they become heavier by the second and they don’t hang themselves up on the wall. Much sweating in the pantry and much swearing as well.

After all of this unaccustomed domestic effort we had a day off today and caught the early bus to Pieve Vecchia to have a stroll. The weather forecast predicted clear skies for today so we didn’t wear warm clothes as the sun has been quite hot. Lightly clad we set off at 7:10 to stroll to the bus. Yes, it was a trifle chilly but not too bad. We had a chat at the bus stop with a friend who was on her way to school. We set off from Ponte Caffaro on the bus leaving behind a blue sky and drove towards low clouds and mist and Pieve Vecchia (Idro)
After a hearty Pieve Vecchia breakfast of brioches filled with cream and a coffee/chocolate we set off into the low cloud.

Walking into the mist and Idro

As we strolled over the bridge and could see the lake for the first time the feelings of icy tentacles gripping my poorly protected parts gave way to the wonder of the morning.

Boats on an Autumn morning

The lake was filled with water fowl all warning each other of our approach. The ducks sounded as though they were having a good old laugh at us.

As we walked we could see the sun starting to make its way down the opposite side of the valley.

It was at this point that we both realised that we had made a classic error in choice of clothing. Ponte Caffaro is, more or less, on the western side of the lake. We were strolling up the eastern side of the lake. The sun was not going to get to us until quite late in the proceedings.

The eastern side of Lago D’Idro is quite touristy with camp sites and holiday villages. This means that strolls along this part of the lake are delightful outside the holiday periods.

We had been going for about 4 miles and getting colder and colder. The last village before climbing up to the actual smugglers’ path is Vesta, a real holiday village, so no chance of a coffee and a warm fire to be found there. Janet speculated as to whether we, or the sun, would arrive first at Vesta. We won by a about 10 minutes. There was a small patch of beach which had sun on it. With stiffening legs we shuffled towards salvation and the blessed sun on our frozen backs. Janet took an age to open the map with cold clumsy hands.

Sun at last

We hung about soaking up the rays and wolfing down more brioches for a good 20 minutes.

The smugglers’ path or Sentiero dei Contrabbandieri starts at Vesta and finishes just under the rock on which Bondone Castle sits. The path crosses the old border with Austria and was used to smuggle sugar and tobacco. The path fell into disuse and was reopened in 1994 after repair and the installation of wires for the tricky bits.

Janet on a tricky bit

This is where the tricky goes

When we first strolled along the path, some years ago, it was in quite good condition with only one awkward bit. Today we noticed that the effects of heavy rain and so on has made the stroll more of a challenge. We didn’t take poles as we ‘knew’ that it was fairly easy. In places trees had been uprooted and the already very narrow path reduced to nothing by loose scree coming down with the tree. If you don’t have a head for heights or are bothered by scrambling above fairly hefty drops then i would avoid this walk until it has had a bit of TLC. I would not fancy taking a mule train of contraband along this path at the moment. In fact I trod on a loose rock and had a wobbly moment teetering towards the edge. Odd how one always teeters towards the edge never towards the place of safety.

The old Austrian border

The views over the lake are fabulous from the footpath and the view of the old fortifications at Anfo are terrific. The up up up and scramble scramble scramble warmed us up and we felt almost comfortable when we got to Baitoni and the end of the footpath.

A fabulous walk marred only by our poor selection of clothes, setting off too early and lack of poles.

[map style=”width:450px; height:500px” gpx=”/wp-content/uploads/gpx/2012-11-16_0807 102mi Raw.gpx”]