Our return home yesterday was well-timed. We just missed the visit of the new 'Prince and Princess of Wales' to Swansea. Regular readers will know my views but I'm not sharing this comment on Facebook as many there did not agree with me and made that clear. (Okay, I'm a coward. That's fine.)
Back to Italy.
Husband and I managed to fit in two good walks while the grandchildren were in school and I could drag him away from working.
Both were up mountains unsurprisingly as Younger Son and Nuora live in the foothills of the Alps.
As we started our first walk we noticed this signpost.
After checking the map we opted to head for Gias Fontana route. Husband looked at the signpost and said, "It will take us an hour.""No," said I. "It must mean a kilometre. It's a signpost; they put distances on signposts. How could they know how long it will take you? No, it's definitely a kilometre."
Husband disagreed both about my assumption and the route I chose for us.
"This way only leads to a shed (refuge)," he said.
"No, it leads to a waterfall," I said.
Turns out Husband was mostly right.
It took us an hour of walking up a very steep hill (mountain) to reach . . .
A shed. Okay, a refuge with space for a fire and to sleep for lost hikers I presume. Or people who misunderstood the signposts.
It was one of those hills. You kept thinking, "We must be nearly there - wherever there is," and, "We've come this far; it's not worth turning back now."
But I was also right. There was a waterfall just a bit further on.
The second mountain took us even higher although we started off from a higher altitude. From here, a tiny church, Sant'Anna di Prea, which, according to the local website, is "the only example of French Baroque in the sacred buildings of Piedmont. Built near an Alpine pass, the church was a place of rest and refuge for travellers, shepherds and pilgrims."
With the puzzling legend over the entrance . . .From there, with Lobo this time, we walked up and up till we were almost level with the buzzards buzzing around.
Husband checked when we got home and apparently we were higher than anywhere in the UK including the summit of Ben Nevis, our highest mountain.
P.S. Thesaurus Gratiarum apparently means a treasure of gratitude.
3 comments:
That's a lovely photo of you by the waterfall!
Oh you got in ahead of me with the translation I was eager to force on you!
I wonder if the builder of the refuge had been so tired and lost at that point that he thought I fancy a place for a sit down. Better build one.
Very glad you avoided the Waleses, whom my predictive text insisted were Walruses.
Somewhere I have photos of Orcas.
Prints of whales.
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