Mount Etna Too Much for Bianca

Yes, still here, but guys and gals - we went up Mount Etna - can you believe it ! and I shall ramble on now about it because I loved it ! Bianca hated it - it was too much for a fat one but Sicily's greatest natural attraction, Mount Etna, baby, is also its highest mountain and I mean high, especially if you have been dopping the odd swig of Brandy and relying on Sudafed to keep you on your toes. To the ancient Greeks, Mount Etna was the homeland of Vulcan, crazy god of fire, and the home of that one-eyed monster known as the Cyclops. More facts - It is 3350 meters high and is Europe's highest active volcano, funny that I thought it was Vesuvius, but I was wrong. Amazingly, but obviously, the height of its summit changes with each eruption, and over the centuries a few lava flows have reached the coast. Over 1200 square meters of Etna's surface is covered with solid lava. You can ski in the Winter, and hike in the woods in Summer and that is what we did. It was a day out to remember, but I dont remeber that much because my head was frazzled by too much sun and Brandy and the constant earache that Bianca gave me - which I dealt with by depositing her with a scared looking guide who then took her to a Pizzaria and chatted to her whie drinking l;arge quantities of bee. I then trudged off to enjoy what I could and there was some breathtaking scenery. I recommend it, I think.

Lago di Bracciano at last

Finally here we are at the lake - our thoughts take on peaceful manderings and the rippling waters soothe our tired feet and brains. The light is fantastic here in January - a real Mediterranean winter sun and the fog in my frontal lobes feels like it is lifting - no more Blue Jay Way - more like Good Day Sunshine. Petra has increased her self esteem and in the eyes of her travelling companions seems much more at one with her inner idiot. She has nurtured up some food - twice today - including tins of sardines and rustic loaves. April has sung us sweet melodies and played charades - again twice. We are now in a reverie - here in Bracciano - and luvkily technology exists here or I'd be done for. I have had a shave and eaten some biscuits - listened to The Sound Of Music (yuck) on a teenager's Ipod at a busstop - he was scared !

So little by little we are shedding the city blues and going rustic on ourselves - lie elves and pixies we have chased through fields and behaved quite mad really. Now to find a room and relax - I think we'll get a B&B or hotel room tonight and look at tomoorow with new rose tinted glasses. In the meantime here is to you and your friends - A big hearty slurp of Chianti - ahhh! dont you wish you were here ?

Au Revoir ...

One more cup of coffee

God - out of breath - its been a breathless day and last night too. More whisky with Francesco in his Modern House and hi Modern way and hi Modern love for April - which around half past two he declared to a laughing April with Petra behind him making funny faces. But that brushed over quick once April made it clar that a shag was out of the question and he sobered up enoug to pour another drink. We listened to really loud - I mean seriously loud music from up and coming upstart from Italy who nobody has heard of - Colin Danger - (see picture) and he thrashes a mean rock guitar - it is like Rock Ska played at 160bpm and slightly mincey sweet lyrics about wool, babies, sheep, lambs, milk and so on but sung in a really high pitch rock squeal - very avant garde and not to everyones taste, but I must say that what carries it through is Danger's eye for the cripplingly good melody - he really is a bit of a McCartney at heart (not a Lennon I fear) and the whole soup really mushes up into someting beyond interesting. Francesco has a demo of the guy and we all listened to it twice through. Then Bed. Breakfast - croissants and an evil coffee around midday and then hobbled onto the road. Back on the road - part two.

I think we are still headig roughly in the direction of Bracciano and the Lago (lake) and we made a good pace to begin with - petra has a bit of a limp but she is basically OK if a bit rough around the edges. She is a good sort and has madea tight bond with young Tarten April who sang us a Moon Garden song before supper.

We eyed up enviously people with tents. That looks like a good idea - camping - you can get quite lightweight tents. There are not many campers around at this time of year butwe have seen a couple. Anyways - we are paying tonight - a small hotel and the bill will be on me - so I get te bed HA HA.

Good fortune comes our way ...

Day 3 of the walk to end all walks - and we have ended up in the housing estate of a small hamlet called I think Iglitti, and its the first set of modern houses we have seen for over 24 hours, I am sitting at the computer of Mr Francesco Vitelli, a nice guy who April chatted up in a cafe and we have all been invited back for snacks and Scotch. He likes Single Malt and so do we all. He is around 45 years old, keen on art and a professor type - he works in the local Adult Education College and speaks brilliant English. We sit round and char about America, Baseball and George W Bush - he hates the American Idiotti and so do we all. The carrot cake and parmesann Spaghetti bake were fabulous and April seems mildy besotted with him once he has shoown off his cooking skills and revealed that his wife is dead (she died of cancer 3 years ago). So April is chatting away - getting her Tarten skirt cleaned and offering advice on getting out more. Petra sulks and drinks copious amounts of Scotch - but beyond that she behaves herself - for Petra, she can see this is a good resting place for our weary legs. Francesco took us all out in his car to play table football at a friends house but his friend was out so we came back and watched him put up a small brick wall in his garden (it had fallen down and he sems quite handy with cement). Petra plucks up the courage to ask if we can kip the night and he is all too happy - perhaps he sees a window of opportunity with April - so we have landed ourselves quite a little Bed and Breakfast (I hope he can rouse some breakfast) and for no money - wow pretty good.

So I will slurp another single malt and toast our good fortune.

April Fool in January

April is turning out to be a strange walking companion. We dossed in a cold B&B in a small village and April sleeps on the floor. She talks in her sleep - All "whattya and whyya and gettofff". When we get up she makes a big song and dance about brushing her teeth and in the end I let her use my Oral B. Then there is a bit of scene when we finally get on the road - the beautiful Petra is grouchy sombrero wearer today not chatty and snarling. April looks a bit goofy and her glasses are jet black and she often skips. The tarten skirt she is wearing gets seriously muddy and I laugh a lot when she goes a full spinnin top into a mega puddle. Petra snarls some more and tromps off offering no help. So that leaves me to help the poor April sod out of her mess.

Walking gets pretty boring along straight roads with traffic so we veer off into country where almost immediately we meet a man with no teeth who trys to tell us something but we cannot understand a word he is saying so we run off. I decide that here would be a nice place to own a Nano Ipod so I could dift off listening to Bernard Fanning or Amy Winehouse - you know what I mean - this deafening silence from Petra is getting to me. So at the next village the wine shop is most open thank god and we resort to Chianti and olives with bread rolls and goats cheese. The mood increases in the right direction towards something vaguely resembling happy and stays that way for a couple of hours, when we then romp in some hay and fall asleep. I am as lucky as a king - like Henry the Big 8th. Gor Blimey guvnor I am having a good walk in Italy ...

Out on the road with no Segway

Ok so the marching shoes are now right on (no segway unfortunately - they look fun !) - YES Yes we are walking. We jumped on a local train out of Rome and we are heading for some hills somewhere - and we are heading slowly for lago di bracciano and Bracciano itself. For no particular reason except that is what I stabbed my finger on that spot while blindfolded - ahhh the luxury of no particular place to go. The weather was actually a tinge chilly but then I have been with Petra in the great outdoors. Met a tramp who gave us a euro ! Met and Englishman and his wife who were going to see there son play Hockey in Naples, and then a young wild child called April. She is screwed up and drunk and zapped out and she has tagged along. We have argued about food and stealing and things like that - but who cares we are on the road - long live the road ...

Day one of walk out of Rome

At last - I'm out of the big city and on the road - I guess this is what it was always going to be about and compared to the UK its really mild - only about 14 degrees Celcius and sunny ! In early January I really cannot complain at that. So I got my walking shoes on and my Rucksack on my back and set off this morning for the metaphorical hills - or real hills maybe - but I do not want to trudge up too many hills, they can be steep you know. So, anyway, I set off and had a couple of false starts because I forgot my passport was in reception and then needed to buy some decent socks. But in the end I was on the strada heading North. And then who should I meet, practically bumping her into a busy street with my clodhopper rucksack - It was Petra ! Yes that young lushy - we exchanged some rude pleasatries and then kind of hugged, well we were a little bit nervous of each other, but I could detect that she was curious to see me in this garb heading for the hills, so I suggested that she tag along for the crack. But she said she had a new boyfriend, a snazzy Italian in a red sports car who happened to be just a block away and heading for a redezvous any second and that he was the jealous type with a violent streak. She did add that yes she would like to tag along but it was a bit difficult right now. She was actuallty pleased to see me and I wondered if this Italian was perhaps just a little too up market for her and the pressure was getting to her, maybe she could do with a bit of old Esten relaxation. So I suggested that if she thought about it for a bit why didnt she meet me at the bar Oglio over the road in two hours. I'd wait and she couldeither say a proper goodbye or join me on my great expedition hillwardor at least at some angles beyond the horizontal. She agreed so I retired to my favorite seat and hit the beers.

Two hours later I was wedged between a fat businessman and a well dressed mother and her two screaming brats, bunches of flowers and a full scale argument between a blue overalled worker and a roughouse mafioso type (well not really, but he had a beard and sunglasses). I'd had 11 beers (small) and then in trips Petra looking keen and excited - She has left herRed Penis driver and has elected after some deliberation to join me for a few days to get out of Rome and see the countryside. I felt honouredand touced (touched with madness probably) so I staggered to my feet and she helped me along for a bit (laughing thank god) while I got my walking legs back and sang a few Pogues numbers.

So - as you can imagine we only got as far as a bench - adn she go a bottle of wine and it looks like we are staying at Gaberdines place (a freind of Petra with one ear and she smells of Petuli oil and greens). She has lived in Rome for many years - Iam writing this on her computer and then I am going to crash with the sound of Petra gving Gaberdine analmighty tough massage. One of Petra's Turkish Specials. Crash and now gone gooooooodnight !!