WhatADifferenceADayMakes

By Veronica

Spring meadow

We slept very soundly in spite of the rain drumming on the tent most of the night. The campsite was in a clearing at 1500 metres, and when we emerged from the tents we were in the clouds. The programme for after breakfast was to go for a short walk to a viewpoint and cliff hermitage. But of course it was raining by then. We sat around under the tarpaulin for 45 minutes or so, and then Lorenzo decided it has eased off enough to give it a go. But after 20 minutes down a steep leaf-mould covered path he declared that we wouldn't see anything. Unfortunately he put it to a vote and half the party wanted to continue. The rest of us walked back for a dank wait under the tarpaulin.

Two of the party reappeared after  half an hour -- but the other two had decided to continue to the hermitage with Lorenzo, despite the fact that it was raining and accessing the hermitage involved steps cut into the cliff and a crawl along a narrow ledge under an overhang and over a sheer drop.

It was another half hour before they returned, happily unscathed. Meanwhile Franco was getting increasingly agitated as the ponies were loaded up and standing in the rain getting cold and wet.

Finally we set off. This should have been a beautiful walk through flower-strewn meadows with gorgeous views, but we were still in the clouds. I could have spent hours here on a sunny day admiring it, but we pressed on at the ponies' pace. We stopped for lunch in a sheltered spot, but as we walked the last couple of kilometres to Decontra it started pouring again. Plaintive cries of "I just want to be dry!" could be heard. It was raining so hard when we got there that our farewells to Franco, Claudia and the ponies were much briefer than we would have liked.

But back at the agriturismo, the heating was on and the rooms toasty warm. I am happy to say that I was dry everywhere except my feet. Everyone else in their clunky hiking boots was shocked that my magic shoes were soaked through and squirting water at every step. But bizarrely my feet were warm and comfortable despite this. What a pleasure to get all my clothes off and draped over radiators though. Then a hot shower and a welcome cup of tea.

Because we'd arrived at the agriturismo so late on our first evening, we hadn't had a chance to appreciate it properly -- we'd just eaten and gone to bed. This evening we had ample opportunity to get to know our hostess Marisa, a true party animal. There were about fifteen of us around the long table, our party plus four other guests. Marisa was endlessly curious about everyone, asking where we came from, what we did, teaching us Italian, starting a singsong, plying us with food and wine. It was a brilliant evening, and the food, all home-produced, was excellent. Notably the pasta course, a delicious combination of home-made pasta and chickpeas. It may sound bland but it wasn't. We were happy (non) campers by the time we went to bed.

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