Sicilia in August

The flurry of travel blogposts continues as I try to catch up with myself. The summer’s passing in a metaphorical whirlwind, and the way the weather’s been at times I’m half expecting a literal one! After  Chamonix I spent a couple of weeks with my family and then headed off to Sicily. It was supposed to be Amalfi for 4 weeks but I found myself unexpectedly unemployed for the first week. Having booked flights Dianne and I decided that we could recce Sicily as a potential future walking tour venue.

Etna

We used our flight to Naples as a staging point, catching a short flight from there to Catania Airport, a mere 55 minute hop. Dianne had found an Agriturismo, not far from Taormina in the Alcantara valley, called Fondo Cipollate (http://www.agriturismofondocipollate.it/en/index.html). It was an inspired choice. Gabriella, the owner was exceptionally welcoming and the place was both beautiful and practical – we loved everything from the room opening direct to the outdoors through the olive grove hammocks and the airy breakfast room to the swimming pool. It was work, (Jim), but not as we know it.

Dianne and hammock

It was no surprise that the heat was extreme for walking – I won’t be taking a group in August, you can fry on the hot black slopes of Etna, even without the assistance of molten lava.

The north crater of Etna from near Piano Provencano

Before 6:00am we went up the north side to Piana Provencano, the former ski resort at 1900m asl., now buried under a lava flow since an eruption in 2002. As dawn broke over the Straits of Messina below it revealed rough, peat-coloured lava cutting through the pine forests with the bones of scorched white, bark-less trees broken and carried down by the coarse flow. A few, at the edges, still standing on their charred bases.

Pine trees at the edge of a lava flow

Walking NW around the mountain, we traversed up over the cone of Monte Nero to Rifugio Timparossa and from there (once I’d finally found the path) down to Grotta dei Lamponi, a lava tube, created during an eruption when the surface of a lava flow cools and sets leaving the molten lava flowing underneath. The tunnel created then empties of lava when the eruption ceases. Roof collapses allow access. This tunnel is about 4 metres wide and 3 metres high and from the opening you can walk a few hundreds of metres up the tube if you've the foresight to be carrying a torch.

Lava tube

On my birthday Dianne took me on a boat trip to the Aeolian Islands –a big deal for a woman who gets seasick, but she knew I really wanted to go. We drove to Milazzo (not relaxing, especially the parking!) where we joined a tour visiting Panerea (beautiful, and we found somewhere to swim) and then powered on to Stromboli.

Houses on Panerea

After waiting for sunset these tours then circle the island to show you the lava streams, constantly pouring from a vent on the north side.

Stromboli erupting

 These streams course down in bright orange streamers in the gloom of the evening, but are difficult to photograph from a boat tossing on the Mediterranean swell.

Lava streams from the vent

We also visited the Alcantara gorge; the Alcantara river cutting through basalt strata which is cooled into curving columns of cliffs. This is a favoured tourist destination and was rather spoiled by the sheer number of visitors.

In the Alcantara Gorge

Another short walk took up to and around the ruined medieval castello that stands above Francavilla. The short but vicious climb up was followed by a circular walk that led down by the river past the Gurna dell’Alcantara. The Gurna are wide and deep pools worn in the basalt by rocks tumbling and spinning in the river when it floods.

Gurna

We swam in the cold, green water, battered by the waterfalling current.

Apart from this we also found an amazing hotel near Randazzo – an old Masseria used for wine making by the family that has owned it for 200 years. Paolo the present incumbent opened the upper floor as a hotel around 2000. We enjoyed his welcome when we called in while passing. He showed us round, including the ground floor which still has in place the old, massive wine press and barrels. They still make wine, but nearby, in a modern winery.

It was a good recce and I look forward to taking a group there. There’s potential both for walking and for a painting holiday in the bright Sicilian sunshine.

Walking Around Chamonix

After a week of settling in with Dianne my group of clients arrived on Sunday afternoon – I met them at Geneva airport. Once again I was fortunate to have a lovely group of hikers who were looking forward to a week of walking some highlights of the tour de Mont Blanc.

They were undaunted by poor weather forecasts which was just as well as we launched into a few days of rain and cool temperatures. We explored the Petit Balcon Nord, the forests above Servoz to Lac Vert and Prarion, above Les Houches, soaked but unbowed. All of us were immensely grateful to Refuge proprietors who took pity and allowed us to picnic indoors.

Approaching Lac Vert

Walking around Lac Vert

The latter part of the week thngs improved and we had terrific weather for the two most important days, from La Flegère to Lac Blanc and the Tete de Balme, above Le Tour.

We took the telepherique to La Flegère and the path winds steadily up north-westwards with fantastic views of the Mont Blanc massif across the yawning space of the Chamonix valley. It climbs gradually from 1871m to 2353m, arriving at a mountain refuge and a beautiful (but usually busy) mountain lake.

Lac Blanc and a chough

After another excellent picnic watched by red-legged alpine choughs we made our way down steps and ladders to the Lacs Cheserys where a casually bold chamois had been strategically placed by the local tourist office for the purpose of providing a foreground for the photographs of passing walkers.

Posing chamois

The walk continues along lovely paths back to La Flegère, from which a steep descent brought us back to la Praz, just in time to miss the bus.

From Lac Cheserys towards the Mer de Glace

For the walk above Le Tour we cheated, using the Charamillion Gondola and chairlift, which whisked us up to nearly the Col De Balme. The early threat of rain evaporated and left us in sunshine as we followed a delightful grassy ridge which went airily along, switchbacking to the Col de Possettes.

Grassy ridge on Tete de Balme

Time for the last picnic of the week, after which most headed down to the gondola whilst a few climbed a last undulation up to the Aiguille de Possettes. This broad crest passes between cottongrass ponds and rock outcrops to the summit cairn before turning sharply back into the valley and Le Tour. 

Chamonix - my Grand Tour continues

Ceret was wonderful as were the Dolomites, and afterwards came Chamonix; the mecca for British mountain tourists. Once finished in Dobbiaco I drove from the South Tyrol. Down through Italy, westwards to the Aosta Valley and north again, crossing the San Bernardo Pass to enter the Chamonix Valley from Switzerland. The rain, which has dogged me all summer, followed closely.

Clearing rain at sunset from Les Houches

I was back in Cham to lead a walking tour of the Highlights of the Tour de Mont Blanc - another first for me so I needed to spend some time recce-ing the walks.

I was also 4 weeks out from the UK and looking forward to Dianne joining me from England. It was her first trip to Chamonix so we were intending to spend a few days on the highlights in between dodging the wet weather.This meant a trip up the Aiguille du Midi telepherique (exciting and an amazing viewpoint but so busy - we spent almost all day on something which would have been a fantastic hour. Time did drag as we waited for our slot to get back down.)

The Midi Plan Arete from the Aiguille du Midi

 Afterwards we did sneak in a climb at Les Gaillands, Chamonix's local sport climbing venue. We did a two pitch route which we both really enjoyed.

Dianne en route

Best of all was a train up to Montenvers and a walk out on the Mer de Glace. This was a bit more hardcore, involving a descent of nearly 200m down polished glacial rock on steel ladders, a crossing of the lateral moraine (loose and not a place to linger) then a leisurely stroll on the bare, gritty ice. The walk finished with a climb back up the ladders.

Dianne beginning the descent to the Mer de Glace

Return to the Dolomites

In the late 80s and early 90s I was enjoying my former life as a schoolteacher and had the opportunity and encouragement to take my first school expeditions overseas. As I had a small number of young people who were already capable and adventurous climbers I chose to bring them to the Italian Dolomites, for the 'Via Ferrata' routes on the steep limestone faces.

Alpine Gentians flowering in a high meadow

Now, more than 20 years later, I've returned to lead some walking tours for Explore. I've been in Dobbiaco for 6 days learning the routes and reminding myself of the culture of South Tyrol. My first group arrive tomorrow.
It's been a busy week, not least for the buses. The integrated public transport system here is fantastic. You can go anywhere. Buses link up with one another and allow you to move around the area into some otherwise inaccessible places, and when you eventually arrive back at a road after your walk... there's another bus along in just a few minutes to whisk you back to your starting point. The only downside is that you need to be an Advanced Road Services Expert (ARSE) to read the timetables - after a week I am a bit of an Advanced Road Services Expert.
Anyway, enough silliness.
Thursday's walk took me up and past the Tre Cime de Lavaredo. In German they're the 'Drei Zinnen' or Three Merlons. Merlons are the names of the parts of castellated battlements that stick up - the gaps are called Crenels... I've lost the plot again - back to the walk:
The Drei Zinnen are the most fantastic, huge battlements soaring up to 3000m above rocky alpine terraces. The rock is blinding white limestone broken by grassy meadows which, in June, are covered in beautiful alpine flowers. It's a landscape designed for a film set.

Dwarf Valerian with typical steep Dolomitic Limestone peaks

I walked around the peaks from the south to their uncompromising north faces. The central Cima Grande begins with some hundreds of metres of overhanging rock coloured a pale ochre orange, whilst the upper half leans back to be a very steep slab, blackened by running water.

Tre Cime de Lavaredo - north faces

The whole area is a tourist walking paradise - a road gets you high up and in to the Rifugio Auronzo. Paths which are not excessively difficult ring the mountain, taking in the Rifugio Locatelli on the north side. The approach to the Locatelli was incredibly busy with walkers making the best of the wonderful weather.

Too many people approaching the Rifugio Locatelli 

From the Locatelli I hastened on through to descend the 1000m on the east side of the mountain to regain the road where I found my bus waiting!

Céret in the French Pyrenees

Amalfi seems a long time ago. Since then I’ve had a week in the Pyrenees and am now in the South Tyrol. Before I get on to writing about the beautiful Dolomiten mountains of the Tyrol I need to report on my week in the Pyrenees.

 This year was the 8^th year in succession that I’ve taken the ‘Pacemakers’ away for a hiking holiday and they have become close friends in that time. It’s always lovely to meet up again (usually in ‘departures’ at Stansted Airport). Every year it’s somewhere new and I was confident that we’d all love our stay near Céret.

Hotel Mas Trilles

I’d discovered the Hotel Mas Trilles which is a beautiful retreat down by the Tech River a couple of miles outside Céret. Even better were our perfect hosts, Amparo and Stefan who went the extra mile to make us welcome and smooth our progress through the week. The food has always been an important part of our trips and this year our tour of the best restaurants in the area included Le Bartavelle in Argelès Sur Mer, Atelier de Fred in Céret and 66 Sur Vins in Maureillas las Illas.

But the walking is what we go for. My favourite walks were the contrasting mountain walk on Canigou and the rocky Catalan coastline.

Carpets of wild flowers

We didn’t climb to the summit of Canigou, which would be a bit hardcore. Instead we walked a small loop from the Refuge of Batère. An eagle circled over the shoulder of the mountain as we set off, climbing steadily through carpets of flowers – a lofty ridge walk with spectacularly open views all around.  A storm broke on the heights of Canigou although it never spread to our part of the mountain.

Climbing towards Canigou

And two days later we were on the coast. The walk began with a hitch as we’d hoped to take the train from Port Vendres to Banyuls sur Mer.  A train driver’s strike put paid to this plan but we were not to be denied. On a scorching hot day we upped and downed, passing rocky coves and steep cliffs and sandy beaches. Coast walks can lead the uninitiated to imagine a flat progress but they can be quite vicious! 

Another 'undulation' on the coast path

We stopped for a swim half way along and it felt quite difficult getting started again after lunch.

So that’s a brief summary which can’t quite do justice to what seemed a wonderful escape. Where are we going next year?

Mules rule in the Ferriere State Park above Amalfi

Amalfi coast walking mostly follows medieval mule tracks built to transport goods through the steep mountainous terrain of the Sorrento peninsula. Most of the travel between the 9^th century and the 14^th century was by ship, through the trading port and city republic of Amalfi. However, the city’s need for timber and fresh food meant that mules were vital in supplying the city.

Some of the area’s mule trails have been maintained and improved whilst others are fallen into various stages of ruin. Just occasionally, on foot, you may be lucky enough to encounter a 21^st century muleteer and his mules, working on the old trails.

During the four weeks I spent in the area for Explore we had a three such encounters, once on the San Lazzaro to Amalfi path, once in Nocelle with mules bringing bags of cement to a house along a tiny lane and once in the Ferriere State Park.

This last, in the remote woods of the park, was a glimpse into a long gone past.

I had noticed that the footpath was churned up and took a moment with my group to do a ‘Mule Briefing’ – an explanation of the tradition and also a safety warning. Mules may know how wide they are but they are unlikely to be aware of how wide their pannier loads are and to be struck by a passing mule’s load of logs would result in considerable paperwork for the unfortunate leader.

As we walked on I noticed that the path was scored by small furrows and concluded that the mules were dragging log poles, rather than carrying panniers. Barely moments later a commotion in the forest ahead signalled the oncoming mules and one appeared, without muleteer, dragging three 8 metre long logs up the steep and narrow track. It saw us and stood, uncertain, 15 metres down the track.

 I urged my group up the steep bank and out of the way.  As I was fussing the muleteer arrived and held the mule right on a tight bend in the path. It’s usually better for the mule to be held still while the walkers proceed past, but on this occasion there was a group sized layby but no room to pass the mule, which was now being followed by another, similarly loaded.

The coppiced logs swung wide at the bend with a hooked machete stored safely away.

From our perch above the track we watched the heavily loaded animals coaxed, snorting and stumbling but powerful, along the uneven, rocky path, the leading edge of their chestnut pole loads swinging wide as they turned the corner and the trunk tips dragging new furrows in the surface.

A third mule appeared with its load, which this time included a muleteer standing on the mule’s harness.

He jumped down to take the corner and the whole train disappeared up into the forest. We could hear their snorting progress upwards (the mules, not the guys) for some time afterwards.

Amalfi in Maytime

I'm back in Amalfi for the third year in a row, leading a coastal walking holiday for Explore and I'm loving San Lazzaro in Agerola. 640 metres up, above the tourist fleshpots of Amalfi and Positano,

Amalfi

selling every lemon-based product known to man, Agerola is a group of villages spread around a valley which spills into a steep limestone gorge as it drops over cliffs to the sea. It's a different world from the synthetic tourist culture of the old coastal towns, though you can't deny their prettiness - pastel-painted faded houses piled up above the sea, separated by narrow pedestrian lanes and steps... steps and more steps.

Furore from San Lazzaro

  Up in San Lazzaro you find the authentic Italy of the 21st Century; friendly, family oriented, welcoming and a culture quite different from your expectations.

Modern Transport

People stop to say 'Ciao' and hand you fruit from their small, intensive plots of land and you're a welcome visitor rather than a tourist to be exploited for maximum gain. Luna d'Agerola is a gem; an Agriturismo run by the Acampora family. Whilst your visit is an important opportunity for their economy they're not disillusioned and I've never been ripped off.

You feel it's a community on the cusp, however, and I've seen increasing numbers of tourists over the last three seasons. I've walked with groups on footpaths which are becoming better marked and more used.
I hope that the increasing numbers don't bring the less welcome aspects of tourism that you see in the coastal hotspots.

Heading Off For The Summer

After my back injury last year I'm determined to get out walking and climbing as much as possible -it's much better for me than working at a desk or driving distances for work. So I've been offered and taken on 16 weeks of leading walks in France and Italy between early April and mid September. Most of this is leading for Explore.
So I'm really looking forward to all of these tours but the downside is that it'll reduce the amount of time I have to go climbing. I'm trying to make the best of what the UK has to offer before heading off and managed to get a couple of good days on the gritstone near Skipton. (No photos to show for it.)
Despite rushing around getting things ready for my first trip next week I did force myself out into the misty around Sheffield yesterday; to one of my favourite places, Wyming Brook, and here I did take my camera. Here are a few photos:

What's in a name?

I've changed the name of this blog because I'm changing the content.

The thing is I was trying to put all of my eclectic set of eggs into one blog-basket and it was making it unfocused. So, from now on this blog will be about my outdoor life, both work and play, both walking and climbing, both in the UK and around the world. I've started a second blog called "Picture Imperfect" for anyone who want's to keep updated on my painting and drawing.

The title of the blog refers to Robert Frost's beautiful poem "The Road Not Taken". The sentiments therein sum up, more eloquently than I could hope to, how I like, not only to travel but to live.

Simon's Seat, North Yorkshire - "the one less travelled by"