Back on my feet!

Well sort of!  A couple of days ago I set off walking in the cool of the morning, which fairly quickly built up to a hot and humid day.  I walked very carefully, and sucessfully about half the distance - only to be thwarted by "road works", or I should say dam (or do I mean damn?) works!

It makes such a difference having people going out of their way to be helpful, which is what happened at Rovereto with the delightful tourist office official - the opposite to my experience in Trento.  Not only did she take the time to explain how to pick up the path again, having bussed it from Trento, but she found me a lovely B&B at a good price with delightful English speaking hosts.

Had a great time in Rovereto.  I managed to get to sing in one of the churches for nearly half an hour!  I went exploring and somehow ended up on the wrong road and found myself in the hospital car park, with the road I wanted to be on on the other side of a wall - so scaled it and jumped down the other side!  Also managed to get to a free outdoor concert that evening with a Greek band, all acoustic.  Even though it was outside I could hear every note sung, played and spoken.

A streetscape in Rovereto

A view of Rovereto from the hospital car park!

A fountain in Rovereto, looking towards the mountains.

The path had followed the River Adige, and I stopped on the outskirts of the village of Mori.  After taking a detour off the path and casting my eye to left and right and seeing no other options available I ventured into - Golden Arches!!!!  (MacDonalds!). It was when I tried to return to the path that I discovered the signs telling all cyclists to follow the road.  It was disapointing, but as the cyclists were following the instructions I decided that I should too - except that I had no intention of walking on the edge of a busy road for 7 or 8 kms, and so my only option was to return to the Mori rail station and catch the train.  Here I had the unusual experience of helping a young man of about 18 buy a ticket from the machine (at his request).  I had bought one using the English option on the machine, but he spoke no English and so I did this using the Italian option, with the only Italian I know being musical terms, which didn't help much in this case!

Just some of the many mamils passing me!

The cyclists are well catered for on this stretch of the path.  Here's a rest stop for them, complete with a cycle stand.

Coming down through the Tyrol I couldn't believe how many apples there were grown - mile after mile of orchards, but they have now been replaced by grapes.  The vines remind me rows of skinny little legs!

          You can see here how the grapes grow, and how easy they would be to harvest.

At one point, as I sat resting on a seat, admiring the fast flowing river and a stretch of what I suspect was Roman Road and trying to ignore the MAMILS (middle aged men in lycra) who were riding past in their droves (women too - and, I must be honest and say the whole age spectrum, young to old), the only non Lycra clad man stopped and had a long chat with me about what I was doing.  Then further down the track one of the council workers mowing the verge stopped as I passed for a chat.  He was from Algeria, and I presume his job was to relay all the gossip to his co-workers!  The day concluded, with dinner in the shadow of Monte Baldo, chatting with my dinner companions Jim and Lisa from California

                 

A fountain in the village of Ala where I spent a lovely evening with Jim and Lisa.  Thought the name of the place where it was was special too!

The next day I continued following the cycle path, still in the shadow of Monte Baldo (or it would have been if the sun was in the right direction) and still following the river.  I was delighted to find that my feet held up having walked a full day, but at the village of Borghetto I stopped walking and hopped on a train to Verona.

A bend in the river, heading through the gap in the Dolomiti (Dolomites) to Verona.

The Castello di Avio, on the outskirts of the village of Avio.

Borghetto, on Flume Adige.  I stopped here at a bar near the church and had a lemonade before catching the train to Verona.

I had an ulterior motive, but more of that in the next post.  Suffice it to say that I have been in Verona for 2 nights, and have got another 2 booked.  It is HOT, humid, expensive and crowded.  It is a lovely city, but I am finding the crocodile lines of tourists following their guide, the small groups that amble slowly along, and those that stop suddenly or take the whole width of the footpath very tedious.  I look forward to getting back on the road again, though I have a feeling that this leg might be partially bus / train due to the fact that there may not be a designated foot / cycle path.

The Arena in Verona, and no, this is not repair work, but more of this later.

Trento, Italy

After leaving Reschen, I decided that it was silly to keep catching a bus or train to the next place and hope I could get a physio appointment for my feet. With that in mind I made the decision to forget the path for a while and head straight for Trento in the hope that I could get several appointments with the same physio.

At first I thought I had made a big mistake, as the woman in the tourist office was singularly unhelpful, as was the reception desk at the hostel I had booked into, however I revised my opinion of the latter when, with persuasion, they managed to get me an appointment in a couple of days.  I was very lucky because the physio manages to fit me in on the Thursday AND the Friday, and I have just returned from the last appointment (Monday night).  I am delighted as I am now walking without a limp and I think I can now hit the road again, though I will refrain tomorrow as I have been unable to find a single sign to leave town, and so will catch the train for a wee way and then start - it will be a lot easier to find the path in a small village than in a big town like Trento.

It was truly beautiful coming off the mountains.  The snow on the peaks was a treat and the views were spectacular.  The bus followed a road that zig zagged its way down off the plateau, and then it was a train trip the rest of the way, with the train tracks following the contour of the valley, mostly following a very fast river.  I had to go into Bolzano, the capital of the South Tyrol, before changing trains to Trento.  The lower the altitude got the more I saw waterfalls tumbling off the mountainsides, some of them quite spectacular.  And still the cyclists roared along in their large and small groups.

A man on the train was telling me that Trento and the South Tyrol compete (and I got the impression they don't like each other).  So here I am in Trento, and here some of my visual impressions of the city.

Trento is on the the Flume Aldige.  The white cliffs of the Dolomites can be seen here and were spectacular on the train trip from Bolzano to Trento.  The Dolomites are actually made of coral and algae, forced up millions of years ago.

 A streetscape in Trento(above and below).

I had breakfast in bars just like this.

There are flowers everywhere, though not always flowers but grasses and herbs as in the "book" below.

A building in the main square of Trento.

The Duomo (the Cathedral) in the square.  Every afternoon fluffy white clouds appear, which then darken and threaten rain, but mostly I think it falls in the mountains.  The locals all walk out with their umbrellas though.

                     

There are many buildings which have part of the roof covered in these shiny green and coloured tiles, some forming patterns.  For me this is reminiscent of the roofs in the Burgundy region in France.

A Way to Occupy Time.......

....... Decide to post something in an Italian Post Office!

For those from "the great south land", and our cousins across the Tasman who have not experienced this wonder let me explain the process.

• First, find a post office, which in itself can take some considerable time.
• Next, enter.  Here you will see people milling around, but don't join them yet.  You must first find the machine that issues the numbers of the order that people will be attended to.  
• Once found your dilemma is to decide what button to press as there are four or five to select from.  Watch closely those that follow and you will see that they will be faced with similar indecision as you, with their finger hovering over several until after some seconds they make a decisive decision and hit one.  But - there will be those who wonder about their choice during the course of the waiting period and go back periodically to check if they have made the proper decision.
• Next, take advantage of the seats provided for your comfort.  They are provided for a reason, and there have even been bar tables added too where you can rest an arm and take the weight off your feet!  These tables also serve a double purpose as a leaning space to write should you need to fill out any paperwork, once you have seen an assistant!
• Now there is nothing for you to do except sit back and relax.  Nothing you do is going hasten the process and so here is an opportunity to observe how others wait, pacing up and down, tapping a foot impatiently, or even starting a conversation about how long it is all taking with those around you! 
• If you are very lucky your number may pop up on the screen within 45 minutes, but be prepared for the long haul as it could take over an hour - just to buy a stamp to post a letter!  

As time passes you will realise why there are seats in such a place, and you will look with wondrous eyes on a space where you can not do a single thing to hasten the process - no forms are available to fill out while you wait, no envelopes can be addressed while you wait - everything is hidden in cupboard's behind the counter, and so the only option is to queue and wait patiently!

Italy and South Tyrol

I have been learning a lot over the past few days, and I'm going to share some of it with you.  Here is some ammunition for you quiz masters!  I have crossed the border into Italy at a place called the Reschen Pass ( Resia in Italian) and am now in the South Tyrol.

Somewhere I have been in the last week I read about how the Tyrolean folk have been divided through political boundaries (and I guess, war), and that they feel very strongly that they should be an autonomous region like they once were.  In this respect I am reminded of the Basque region which also straddles two countries.  It is quite interesting because, until early last century the South Tyrol belonged to Austria.  The allies signed some agreement that gave it to Italy ( quite why they stuck their nose in I am not sure), and then because of Mussolini and Hitler and further decrees there was a massed, forced migration until after the second world war.  Then in amongst all of that, there was what amounted to slave labour, when children from large families marched to Swabia and worked for farmers there before returning home for the winter.  It would have been a tough life, and I guess the people did whatever they could to survive.

Now, the South Tyrol (I was in the West Tyrol 7kms away before crossing the border).  I haven't seen much of this area yet, but on a very cold, wet afternoon I have been browsing through some of the information I picked up at the tourist office.  When I arrived here in Reschen (Resia) the mountains nearby were trying to fight, unsuccessfully, the mist that was trying to settle on their peaks.  The mist has lifted, and they are now snow covered peaks!  It is like someone made a pointy cake and put thick icing on the top, with some drizzling down the sides.  I can't show you any pictures, because the white snow caps just blended into the white cloudy sky! A large part of the South Tyrol is over 3,400 foot high and here at Reschen the altitude is almost 5,000 feet (1,520 metres) high.

 Only about 3% of the South Tyrol is settled, and there are over 300 peaks over 3,000 metres high.  Much of the region is rock, though there is an awful lot of it forested too, and of course, above the tree line there will be pasture as well.  Interestingly the Dolomite mountain range falls in this region too, but more of that later.

 Schloss Nauders.  Unfortunately this was not open for me to visit.  The high vis vests (bottom right) were a family (2 adults, 2 children) who had obviously just ridden over the pass, 7 kms away.

Nauders.  I saw a wonderful physio here in this village who has worked wonders - an hour of massage, ultra sound and strapping. Not fixed, but getting there!

I have noticed quite a bit of wood carving lately, and this Shepherd with his sheep was just one carved panel on a church door.

 Part of the village of Graun, and Reschen, were drowned back in the fifties for this man made lake.  85 families were displaced, and the churches from both villages were drowned and new ones built.  This church tower stands as a permanent reminder of those earlier times at Graun.

Austria

Here I am, in a small village called Pfunds heading towards the Reschen Pass, which I have just read is near enough to the border of Switzerland / Italy / Austria.  And the penny has just dropped that that is why I have been seeing signs to St Moritz, the Swiss ski resort!

 Looking across the River Inn at Pfunds Dorf.

 A fountain in the village. 

The pension St Lukas, where I am staying tonight (€38).

Pfunds is at an altitude near 950 metres and the Reschen Pass is just under 1,500 metres, though it is just a steady climb.  Sadly though I won't be walking over this as I am carefully nursing my feet.  I have tried, unsuccessfully to get into a physio, and in their absence I have taped my left foot for posterior tibial tendonitis and the right foot for anterior tibial tendonitis!  I notice there is a physio next door to where I am staying at present and so will try and get in if I can so that I can have my diagnosis confirmed!!  Actually the rest has made a huge improvement, and I am just practicing the lessons learned from previous trips and waiting till things are really healed - instead of soldering on, which is what I am wont to do!

One of the things that Joan and I talked about when we walked was the fact that we ended up in little villages that most tourists would never get to see, and yet they were worthy of a visit. Even though I am bussing at present I am still following my itinerary, sort of, and am still ending up in these tiny little villages, eating meals in little cafes and restaurants, singing in the churches (most of which are open), and just sitting by the river or in the square waching the world go by!

 The River Inn at Landeck.  Landeck Castle is on the bank high on the left, and is now a really interesting museum about the Tyrol and the Tyrol people.

 The tower at Landeck Castle.  So many times since arriving in Europe I have been reminded of the song I learnt in Sunday School - " the wise man built his house upon the rock"!

 In the village of Fließ this house holds the Via Claudia Augusta Museum.  They have made some amazing discoveries and there is a very interesting collection of artifacts here dating back thousands of years.  I had to bend a lot to get through the little door in the centre, and the big door on the left goes up to the church.  The date on the house says 1360!!

The church tower in Fleiß. 

 A barn wall in Pfunds

I decided to catch the bus at a place called Trofana Tyrol.  It is a GIANT petrol station / restaurant / store / tourist place, and as I navigated my way to the exit and the bus stop, I was stopped in my tracks by his display!  In case you can't read it it says "no kangaroos in Austria"!

I have taken he opportunity of this "rest time" to catch busses to the next village and look at the museums and so on.  The bus drivers need a medal for coping with the droves of cyclists, and I mean droves - dozens upon dozens of them!  It is rare to see a single cyclists, twos and threes are quite common, but so too are groups of 8 - 10!  What I find interesting is that the bus has a special run every couple of hours on which they tow a huge trailer where the cyclists put their bikes so they don't have to ride over the Pass.

 The bike trailer on the back of the bus

Heading over the Inn at Pfunds

It is really interesting seeing the River Inn.  I began following it from just outside Imst. There I thought it was perhaps a middle aged river, wide and deep, fast flowing but not too boisterous.  As I have gone upstream I keep getting tricked by it - I think it is becoming a younger river, a strong current and bubbling with a lot of noise over hidden rocks and boulders and sometimes it appears more shallow.  I have decided that at present it is more like a teenager - sometimes calm and steady, but then, for no reason it changes to a raging torrent roaring through narrow passages and around bends.  I cannot put my finger on the colour of the river, sometimes I think of it as a steel blue yet other times it has a greenish tinge to it, and over those colours there is a milky component to it as well.

 My first sight of the River Inn, even though I had been walking alongside it for more than a half hour.  The colour is very accurate and you can see why I have trouble defining the colour.  It was this path, pounding along on lovely concrete that  created havoc with my left foot!

 A foot bridge crossing the Inn at Landeck.

The Inn is used for water sports.

Val de ri, Val de ra.........

I love to wander by the stream, 

That dances in the sun.  

So joyously it calls to me, 

Come join my happy song.

The second verse of the song Happy Wanderer sums up what the day was like beautifully.  Walking beside crystal clear, fast flowing streams, glinting in the sun light and bubbling and gurgling along.  Then it was up into the mountains, over the Fern Pass, and a steep descent to yet more streams and a couple of bright green lakes, the colour of which I've never seen before!

Along the way there are often seats for the locals, and passers by like me, to sit, relax and admire the view.  This view is of Lermoos.

and this one is looking towards the Fern Pass where I am headed.

Weißensee (a see is a lake). One shouldn't look back, but with views like this it is hard not to!

Looking through the trees to the extraordinary coloured Fersteinsees.

and at last I descended to them.

Surrounding me, in the distance, and much higher up, have been snow capped mountains, and at my level, forests of beautiful pines and wildflowers.

The path ascending Fern Pass, and still I couldn't resist looking back!

 Descending Fern Pass.  I THINK this is a bit of the old Roman road, complete with wheel ruts!

The only comfort descending this path was that I had to walk on the right (road rules apply - otherwise the cyclists get irate!).  This meant that anyone passing me was on the outside edge!   The other consolation was that even toppling off, I doubt one would get very far before a tree stopped a fall, though how you would get back up I have no idea!!

           

Just some of the

wildflowers I saw.  The middle one is a little orchid.

Sandwiched on either side of this glorious day there have been a couple of wet ones.  Joan left for home on Sunday by train, and I left Ruette on the train with her as far as Lermoos - in pouring rain.

I had a sore foot which, in the absence of Dr Mark, was diagnosed by Dr Google as tendonitis caused by tight fitting shoes.  His prescription was rest, shoes tied looser, and laces tied on the side.  As a precaution I spent an extra day in Lermoos and today, just as a precaution, I caught the bus 15 kms to my next destination, Imst.

Normally I don't worry about rain, but given my tender feet I decided I would avoid risks of slipping or twisting my ankle.  This is a lesson learned the hard way from previous journeys.  I have plenty of time so am not pushing myself.

 The view from my bedroom window at Nassereith last night,

and what a difference a day makes - the same view this morning!

Mind you arriving here at Imst I then went exploring the Rosegarten - an extraordinary gorge, down which, here in the town, a fairly innocuous looking stream pours.  In the gorge it is transformed and it changes to a boiterous, noisy one, roaring ferociously over waterfalls, small and large, with the path clinging to the gorge sides.  The path climbs over 220 metres and I decided desctretion was wise in the descent, and took the forest path - my nerves wouldn't take the descent down the gorge!

 Ascending through Rosegarten, Imst, Austria

This gives you an idea of height - not a selfie!

 A gentle waterfall high up in the gorge.

Those who know me will see why io was notr going to retrrrace my steeps willingly.  Mind you, I am glad I did it.

Returning to the theme of the first pictures - the view of Imst from a  strategically placed seat so that one can admire the view!  When I descended I went into that church and had a good sing! It has a cloister surrounding the cemetery in its grounds.