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.