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faraway places

What have I gotten myself into? the route to Alto blu, Mortola Superior, Italy…

November 7, 2016 By splendid Leave a Comment

For 5 days and almost 85 miles climbing up and down the Italian Alps, I’ve been trying to think of how to succinctly describe this unique adventure. What I’ve come up with is that it was like I was an extra in a French multi~genre film, without subtitles. The genres included drama, adventure, mystery, romance, terror, action, comedy and surrealism all set in the beautiful, bucolic hills of the Ligurian region of Italy. 
It all started back in St. Agnés, France. After collecting the final member of our group in a small village along the way, we were off. Following old Roman roads, mule trails and streets we were headed to Italy and back. An early trot and canter helped me to shake off a few nerves and begin to enjoy the wildness of the hills. But I still didn’t quite know what to expect.

We stopped for a picnic lunch in a pasture on the Balcon above Menton.

We secured the horse reins and allowed them to roam and enjoy lunch on the hillside. Here is my trusty friend, dear Uslaine, all geared up to go, with my “banana” {which will eventually disappear, one of the mystery segments} on the back of the saddle. This black nylon, weather proof bag was for my clothes and personal items as was the leather saddle bag hanging beneath it.

As the horses wandered we sat down for a lunch of lentil salad, cheeses, sausages, bread and the last of the tomatoes from the garden. This lunch set the tone for the plot that would unfold. This trip was a opportunity to enjoy the rustic, alpine beauty of this part of the world in a simple, natural and authentic style.
After lunch, the adventure really began. We started an intense climb {I called it bouldering, my french colleagues called it jumping}. Whatever the term, we were suddenly clattering up limestone cliffs in 2~point (lifting our seats above the saddle and forward to keep the weight off our horses so they could use their hindquarters to get us up the mountain}. This is when the title of this post started running through my mind…. “what have I gotten myself into”??
When the trail leveled out a bit, the guide announced we had successfully crossed into Italy, and we didn’t even have to show our passports {comedy}. Almost immediately, we were received with an eruption of gunshots over our heads. Thankfully, these horses are well trained and were only startled for a second before carrying on.
The next eruption was a heated conversation between guide and hunters in rapid fire French and Italian regarding the appropriateness of shooting. It is hunting season in these hills and shot gun shells, feathers and distant gun fire were present for most of our days.
I don’t have any photos to share of this part of the trip because I didn’t dare take my hands off of my reins.

As the guide had cautioned, this afternoon was rough, because we needed to make our own trail down the other side of the mountain. We bushwhacked down the hill ducking from branches, briers and boughs. Towards the base we found a stream to allow our hard working horses to drink fresh water. A little further along, the trail turned into a road which led us to our resting spot for the night, a B&B called Altoblu in the small village of Mortola Superior, above Ventimiglia and the Ligurian sea.

We relieved our horses of their tack and released them into a small valley where guide Scott used a portable fence system to enclose them, putting a bell on the neck of one of the horses so he could find them in the morning if the herd wandered.

We came across old stone ruins like this throughout the trip, evidence of hundreds of years of pastoral life and the Transhumance. I especially like this shot because between the ruins you can see our last views of the tunnels of the autoroute and the Mediterranean.

The owners of Altoblu welcomed us warmly. Of course, I was immediately drawn to the color scheme. This cozy little B & B is a grand canvas for the wife, Luciana, who seems to have absolutely unlimited artistic talents. Here is a set of porcelain plates she made.

I guess I forgot to indicate my dietary preferences because we were served lapin for dinner, one of the few things I generally don’t eat, but I did try it that night {#dusomethingnu} because husband Elio and Luciana were so kind and effusive as they served us dinner, beginning with a tasty Vin a L’orange aperatif  <– recipe, hoping to make this soon.
I wish I could say that we all slept like rocks that night, as tranquil and heavy as Luciana’s beautiful terra cotta nudes… but I’m afraid that just wasn’t the case. Though I’d asked for my own room, for that night the guide suggested it would be better if we shared, so I agreed. Unfortunately, my bunk mate proved her lumberjane skills that night, sawing serious logs for the duration!
#lessonlearned,
14.11 miles travelled.

Filed Under: faraway places Tagged With: Riding horses in the Alps, roam, Splendid roaming, the adventuress domestista, Transhumance

Previous Post: « Chemin de Nietzsche, Eze, France, deux….
Next Post: this is f*!#ing insane… onto Rocchetta Nervina, Italy »

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