My feet burn, my tender toes encased in my ill-chosen high-heeled boots sit silently while I take the brunt of the pain in my big toe. It’s worth it. I know from the second I choose any pathway (albeit I may create these paths myself). The journey, the breathlessness and the sheer ferocity of not being able to use words hits me every time I find the most scenic spot in a city.
Some prefer a sea view while others search for the perfect mountains. Some want treetops everywhere, others want big city skyscrapers. I love being beside the sea, not in it but simply beside it. Travelling to the small cities in Italy opened-up space in my heart for a great big and beautiful mountain view. I really didn’t have a choice. I was surrounded by them.
I love an all encompassing view of a town, village or city. Because when I’m right at the top, it always makes me reflect on how I got there. That’s the beauty in taking different paths, sometimes they may lead you to the same place but with a different perspective in mind.
Determination and perseverance are always two of the skills needed to pursue your dreams. They’re also the two skills I had to force myself to use when I chose to climb the steep old mountain town of Pesche. It really wasn’t my idea but I pushed for it. I had a need to reach the top of this town, my other need was to do it in as graceful strides as I possibly could in heeled boots. I’m currently looking to invest in a good pair of hiking boots as my knees and feet have started to protest.
I had the privilege of travelling Italy with friends who live there. One particular friend (also an old flat-mate I lived with in Italy, and one of the most important people I gained from my travel), suggested I’d been complaining too much about the four plates of food at lunch and dinner. She wasn’t wrong, but my complaining was all for show, I was truly indulging in her mother’s pasticceria and baked wonders. She thought it would be fun to pretend that we were walking halfway up Old Pesche. Have I mentioned how steep it is? The pathways are laced with cobbles, stones and large steps. I’m still trying to figure out how they would use a wheelchair.
The only error in her plan was that it was a joke. She had lived in Pesche for most of her childhood but had never walked/crawled to the very top. Until I made her. She suggested it and I followed through. She didn’t know who to hate more, me or herself.
We didn’t have water (not recommended), we had to strip off our layers, (weather appropriate clothing is recommended), but we reached the very top. Not to tell the world that we got to the top of a nondescript town that hardly anybody outside of Italy has heard of. I wanted to reach the top, because why not?
Take the chances you may never get again. Take the chances you’re given all the time. I believe in taking chances as we’re so privileged to even have one.
Take a chance on the smaller regions in Italy, they may not be the big tourist attractions, but there you’ll be restricted to certain foods, to your thoughts, to being mindful. These mountain-side villages are so good for your soul.
No Comments