So today I woke up at eight thirty, mind you I went to bed at four thirty, went down to breakfast and decided to take a walk. Oh what a wonderful idea that was. Allow me to explain why.
The hotel I am staying at is situated at the top of a large hill. Walk out of the hotel to the left and you will go down the semi main street of the village. To the right however and you head down the hill towards the highway and the slightly bigger nearest village. That is the way I decided to go. The goal I had in mind was to reach the other side of the highway where in the distance I could see a medium sized castle. This, I discovered later was a bit ambitious. The trip down the hill was mostly uneventful aside from a few good views of the mountains, a wonderful little stream, and the tractor with a trailer full of cow poop (quite smelly cow poop I might add) that was attempting to back down a small hilly driveway.
Everything after that gets more interesting.
Crossing under the highway involved going through a tunnel that was festooned with graffiti, not just normal graffiti though, graffiti of all languages. Italian, English, German, and Swedish are the ones I could recognize. Not your typical tagging but professions of love for another and personal secrets that must have been burning in the writers head and needed to be seen on a tangible plane rather than remain a hidden idea. A feeling of community permeated my senses as I looked upon years of writing upon a slate hundreds of years old.
Passing through the tunnel I moved on towards my goal.
As I passed further from the village the roads became more rural and less traveled. The last real sign of modern life I passed (aside from cars) was a train station that looked as though fewer than a hundred people traveled through its doors in a day. Passing the station my ears picked up the faint sounds of English being spoken. Curious of the source I hesitated at a doorway to see four, what I guess to be Swedish or British, snowboarders pass by debating how they would make it to the top of the nearest snow capped mountain.
Moving on from there I turned back towards my goal and was immediately gifted with a small pasture of horses. Beautiful, friendly horses. They were fenced in with an hand made wooden fence in a field that had an open driveway. Thinking of only the beautiful animals before me I took the chance and walked up the drive to say hello to the equines. They did not hesitate in coming closer to the fence to be given attention. One at a time they approached, said hello, let me give them a little pat and moved on almost as if the whole encounter had been rehearsed for days.
Moving on from them I turned right and headed up a hill I hoped would move me closer to the castle. This ended up being a driveway to three beautiful cottages where I had the privilege to meet a sweet little white dog who, at first, was defensive of his territory, but after several tense seconds decided I was friendly and approached with no caution. After a quick pet (leaving my hand smelling of dog) I left him sitting in his usual spot and moved back down the drive. Turning back on the main (if you could call it that) road I encountered another pasture, this time filled with cows. Not as friendly as the equines, only a few allowed me the quickest of nose pats.
As I passed by the pasture it became clear to me that my goal of reaching the castle would not be obtainable today. I turned a corner and saw that the structure was much higher than I had thought, but I was rewarded for my travels with a bridge over a beautiful river. Clear water that I suspect was actually melted snow flowed slowly over rounded rocks with the sound of a babbling brook. Standing there watching the water flow, with the smell of fresh air, the sound of the rocks, and the feeling of the light crisp breeze might have just been the smallest slice of an unimaginable heaven.
And then I walked back to the hotel.
Anti-climatic ending huh.
Well it is 11:37 a.m. now and we are scheduled to meet in the lobby at noon, but I wanted to write this with fresh memory. The pictures are all on my Facebook if you want to check them out. They are not really labeled because that takes forever, but if you have a question on what a picture is of let me know.
Oh and I did see a wild cat, black and white with green eyes. To fast for a picture or petting.
The hotel I am staying at is situated at the top of a large hill. Walk out of the hotel to the left and you will go down the semi main street of the village. To the right however and you head down the hill towards the highway and the slightly bigger nearest village. That is the way I decided to go. The goal I had in mind was to reach the other side of the highway where in the distance I could see a medium sized castle. This, I discovered later was a bit ambitious. The trip down the hill was mostly uneventful aside from a few good views of the mountains, a wonderful little stream, and the tractor with a trailer full of cow poop (quite smelly cow poop I might add) that was attempting to back down a small hilly driveway.
Everything after that gets more interesting.
Crossing under the highway involved going through a tunnel that was festooned with graffiti, not just normal graffiti though, graffiti of all languages. Italian, English, German, and Swedish are the ones I could recognize. Not your typical tagging but professions of love for another and personal secrets that must have been burning in the writers head and needed to be seen on a tangible plane rather than remain a hidden idea. A feeling of community permeated my senses as I looked upon years of writing upon a slate hundreds of years old.
Passing through the tunnel I moved on towards my goal.
As I passed further from the village the roads became more rural and less traveled. The last real sign of modern life I passed (aside from cars) was a train station that looked as though fewer than a hundred people traveled through its doors in a day. Passing the station my ears picked up the faint sounds of English being spoken. Curious of the source I hesitated at a doorway to see four, what I guess to be Swedish or British, snowboarders pass by debating how they would make it to the top of the nearest snow capped mountain.
Moving on from there I turned back towards my goal and was immediately gifted with a small pasture of horses. Beautiful, friendly horses. They were fenced in with an hand made wooden fence in a field that had an open driveway. Thinking of only the beautiful animals before me I took the chance and walked up the drive to say hello to the equines. They did not hesitate in coming closer to the fence to be given attention. One at a time they approached, said hello, let me give them a little pat and moved on almost as if the whole encounter had been rehearsed for days.
Moving on from them I turned right and headed up a hill I hoped would move me closer to the castle. This ended up being a driveway to three beautiful cottages where I had the privilege to meet a sweet little white dog who, at first, was defensive of his territory, but after several tense seconds decided I was friendly and approached with no caution. After a quick pet (leaving my hand smelling of dog) I left him sitting in his usual spot and moved back down the drive. Turning back on the main (if you could call it that) road I encountered another pasture, this time filled with cows. Not as friendly as the equines, only a few allowed me the quickest of nose pats.
As I passed by the pasture it became clear to me that my goal of reaching the castle would not be obtainable today. I turned a corner and saw that the structure was much higher than I had thought, but I was rewarded for my travels with a bridge over a beautiful river. Clear water that I suspect was actually melted snow flowed slowly over rounded rocks with the sound of a babbling brook. Standing there watching the water flow, with the smell of fresh air, the sound of the rocks, and the feeling of the light crisp breeze might have just been the smallest slice of an unimaginable heaven.
And then I walked back to the hotel.
Anti-climatic ending huh.
Well it is 11:37 a.m. now and we are scheduled to meet in the lobby at noon, but I wanted to write this with fresh memory. The pictures are all on my Facebook if you want to check them out. They are not really labeled because that takes forever, but if you have a question on what a picture is of let me know.
Oh and I did see a wild cat, black and white with green eyes. To fast for a picture or petting.
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