Two walks

The unbearable heat is arriving. After watering and pumping water I threw some food together and headed for the hills. First to Monte Fagiolo named after its beech forests - faggi - and then after a bit of driving on strade bianche I reached a tiny lost village in the Val Santa between Badia Prataglia and La Verna. The cool had long departed the day but a sign told me that the Passo Serra had been an important paved foot track linking Rome and northern italy before the Mandriola was cut through to wheeled traffic in 1880. Roman legionnaires and pilgrims clambered over it.

I thought I’d have a look see in the 30c heat. I dodged the sun and worked my way up for an hour and a half, the shade, the breeze and altitude all helping allay the beginning of the standout heatwave in italy this year. In many places the stonework of the path was still extant and with some hesitation I ploughed on into the unpeopled wilderness, or close to it.

I reached the pass at 1149m and looked down through steep steep forest to the other side. I took on some water, spread my shirt in the breeze and headed back wetting my head at the two diminuitive streams that crossed the path. Didn’t see a soul. They’d more sense.

The air con in the car was most pleasant. Took a good hour to get back to base. More watering and a steamy evening with the crickets giving it some in the close dark. Rewatched Jiri Menzel’s ‘A Pretty little Village’. He died of Covid. A lovely filmmaker.