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Saturday, June 11, 2016

Getting Lost (and Found) in Italy

Exploring in the Umbrian Hills

watercolour by Janet Strayer
Today was a good day for a hike. After many thunderstorms and much overcast weather, today's sunshine encouraged my decision to explore the hills around our Umbrian homestead. I was on my own, and my  destination was a hike to the chestnut grove across the ravine into the deeper part of the forest. A good and then bad idea.

Not hard to find the right path if you know the way. But then, nothing is hard -- if you know the way. 

I had good directions from a visiting neighbour who'd already explored  the area. Being a student of ecological history, he told me that these chestnut groves in Italy were at least several centuries old,, having been planted by ancient communities to forestall famines in other foods.  The chestnuts are still harvested today. 

The Chestnut Grove

Do you know how lovely it is to come upon a chestnut grove in the midst of a forest, especially when you don't exactly know where you are? It's a special spot. The tree branches are magnificently broad and heavy with leaves, while the brown ground is clear and soft. Enchanting.
After three happy hours exploring, I thought I should head back home. 

After five hours, however, hiking around and around, in and out of the beautiful chestnut grove, I was officially lost

I have a talent for getting lost. Like Hansel and Gretel, I should have brought something (more durable than breadcrumbs) to lead me back home. 

Ironically, all the trail signposts  that pointed in different locations were printed with the same location name! 

My cell phone didn't operate in the woods.. Besides, who would I call given a recent thunderstorm had knocked out landline phone service in my home territory (in which there's also no cell reception).


Officially Lost

You can see the view taken from where I got lost in this photo. I can almost see my house in the leftward distance. But how to get there from here?????




























So, I searched around the woods yet again for another trail. And then another. I was turning in circles that lead nowhere. It was getting dark. Finally, I just continued on one path that lead to an asphalt road. Aha! Better than a lone night in the forest when friendly trees can turn monstrous, not to  mention the wandering wild boars. 

I stood by the road, which at least hinted at "civilization" and stuck my thumb out at the first passing car. No luck. How few cars travelled this rural route? But returning to the forest to look again seemed even worse. So...

Like a fortune's fool, I waited and held my hands up prayerfully to a beat-up car coming from the opposite direction.  Yes, it stopped! I sputtered in Italian to explain my situation.  The kind driver, named Basilio, drove me home. I learned he was from a neighbouring village, Melezzole. I told him I went to Cesare's hardware store in that village. He told me he worked for Cesare. And so it went. And so it goes... in Italy.

And Found

It would have taken another 45 minutes for me to have reached my village on foot along that road. But I didn't know that, and my feet were already blistered.

I reached home, gulped a liter of water, and ate the cold chicken and pesto salad I'd prepared the day before. Thank you, Basilio. Thank you, Italy. Thank you, good fortune.

More Creative Life

You can read and see more about Italy plus other travels and creative adventures by this itinerant artist at Creative Life News here.
 @ janetstrayer.com


3 comments:

  1. Che avventura. Sono felice che tu es sicuro. Dormi!

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