We started our hike in a little town called Isola. It sits at the foothills of the mountain range. We walked the streets, admiring the old homes mixed in with the new construction homes. the houses sat side by side and somehow the architecture all seemed to work together. Our path changed from pavement to gravel and then from gravel to mud, rocks and leaves. The path led up through the homes, giving us a view of the more rustic italian homes and enjoying the smells of fresh bread being made. We entered teh brush and continued along a dirt path. It was lined with hig grass, rocks, ivy, and trees. As we got further into the woods, our gentle incline up the mountain increased too. I remember rounding the corner of one incline only to be met with another continuing incline. Complain though I did, it was a peaceful walk, despite my huffing and puffing. (I walk 3-4 miles 5 days a week but this was a whole new ball game)
The path led to a muddy hill and i began to get flashbacks of a certain muddy hill I ran up a year ago during a zombie race. As the path opened into a clearing, I caught myself darting my eyes from side to side on the lookout for said zombies. Luckily, none were to be found that day, however as a car drove by on the main road that opened before us, i began to curse under my breath at our tour guide Todd for having us take the rugged path. We rested there for a few minutes and an older couple with their walking sticks and hiking boots passed us by and smiled. It was at that moment I thought, "well hell, if they can get up this mountain and they are in their 70s, I better damn well start walking. I had no excuse now."
We left the main road and headed back on the rocky path, rounded a corner and all of a sudden, I saw my very first deer since we moved here. I thought, "they do exist" and promptly my yelling out "a deer" scared it away. Of course the whole time we were walking we kept hearing gun shots go off because after all, it is hunting season here in Italy. Thankfully, none of the bullets headed our way and no one in our group had PTSD, otherwise it might have been a tiny problem. We came around one more bend and hit a very jagged and bumpy concrete walk way. we made it to the top and rested again. Much to our surprise, the hour and a half hike we were supposed to have, only took us less than an hour. I suppose when you tell a group of women that there is food at the end of their journey, they move with much more determination. Or perhaps it was our stellar athleticism that led us to the top so quickly. Either way, we made it to our destination.
We walked down a little dirt road and found the agristurismo, complete with chickens, turkeys, geese, rabbits, and horses. The land was breathtaking and covered with fruit trees, herbs, olives, and grapes. Our hostess greeted us and began the feast for lunch. Let me say, it was DELCIOUS, or as the italians say, Buono! The meal prepared included pasta with truffles, pasta with duck sauce which is very popular this time of year, thinly sliced meat seared on one side, chicken in a creamy sauce, a cheesy appetizer that tasted like fresh cheesecake, fennel with parmesan, roasted potatoes and an assortment of delectable cookies for dessert. Of course no meal is complete without wine, both red. It was a wonderful sampling of the region's food. After conversing and enjoying our time around the table, it was time to descend the path.
So if you are ever find yourself near an agriturismo, stop and sit for a spell. You won't be disappointed.
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