Take a hike up an ancient Narnian road

Its distracto-tainment; a beautiful sunny walk on a March afternoon

I’m working on a blog post about The Thing, and I want to get it right, so I’m sending it around to some people I know, people who know more things than I do. It’s pretty weird doing this kind of journalism again. I’m out of practice. But I’m going to try to give some ideas we can mull over, some things that might correct some misunderstandings, and maybe even give reasons for hope.

Let’s take a dandelion break.

But it’s been getting me down. Like everyone I’m fighting grave anxiety and even dread about what’s happening. So it’s hard to concentrate. I’m a child of the Cold War, and it’s difficult for me to fight off outright paralytic terror at the idea that we are finally actually at war with Russia. Well, not quite yet, I suppose. And that’s something to remember.

I’ve been painting a lot too. Working on a commission, just to try to convince myself there is a future worth planning for.

This afternoon, I found I had to walk away. Just couldn’t stand to sit there any longer watching the Doom of Men approaching.

So about 2:30 I packed up my fishing backpack - the one with the little chair built in - with secateurs for cuttings, some snacks and water, and my walking sticks, put on my walking hat and my walking jacket and just took off. (It’s not the best idea to walk around the woods without a hat. Stuff gets in your hair. Sometimes bugs. It’s OK. No one’s up there to laugh.)

Yesterday, on my way home after Mass, I walked up on of the trails I’ve been meaning to explore. It led very steeply up, following an old medieval wall - the one that surrounds the sisters’ 12 acre property. I was hunting asparagus in the warm spring day. Wild asparagus is a thing here and this is the time of year for it and half the town is out on the hills when it’s nice out looking for this annual treat.

The trail led to a place where there was a big gap in the wall, with masonry that looks like it fell a century ago. The gap was obviously being used by the wild boar as a thoroughfare. So I climbed over and followed their trail until it crossed the big path or road that led to the top of the hill through the woods.

The path wound back and forth - nearly all Italian mountain roads do this switchback thing to climb hills so they can have a gentler, easier slope. It takes longer to get where you’re going, but until recently no one in this country was ever in a hurry to get anywhere.

At the top of that path, there is a big medieval tower set into the wall next to the upper gate - just a big slab of steel that has fallen. The base of the tower is a sheltered area that encloses one of the wells, just a hole in the ground leading into the old Roman-era aqueduct, built in the 1st century BC and still in use until the 1920s.

The hills around here are riddled through with tunnels, and carefully constructed cisterns, that brought water from the mountain springs and channelled it to the town of Narni. The town itself, up on its flat top mountain, is also sitting on top of a complex of caves and tunnels dating back no one knows how long, but that were used by the Romans - who conquered the town in the Republican period - to create a clean water supply. Everywhere you walk you find these little holes leading into tunnels into the hills, lined with old travertine blocks as square and sharp-edged as they were when they were cut more than 2000 years ago.

So, yesterday I contented myself with a hike along the old Roman road back to the Castle park, where I was able to sit and read my Office on my favourite bench, shaded by the olive trees, sitting amidst a sea of early spring wildflowers - purple anemones, wild calendula, white wallflowers and dandelions. Then home.

The trails are popular. Well marked and maintained. Don’t worry, as long as you keep finding these little red and white markers you’re fine.

But when I told a friend about it, she lamented that she lives in Texas and could not come along. So today, fed up with the insanity of the world outside, I went to re-tread the trail and decided to bring my friend along with a series of videos. Then I thought maybe everyone else would like them too.

The Castle and its surrounding park, with olive groves, picnic areas, lawns and a play area for kids, is very popular with local people. It’s about 50 meters higher than the house. Which is why I sound a little out of breath. I thought at first I’d try to find the old aqueduct bridge, but it’s way far. Next time. But don’t worry. There’s cool stuff coming.

The hills are covered in old roads, foot paths and trails. At the top there’s some small cultivated fields, and some of the roads and trails still in use are big and flat enough for tractors and cars

Yesterday I just glimpsed this ruin from the path, but didn’t explore. Today I saw it’s not just a bit of wall but a whole structure, plus a really neat surprise.

This tower is built over one of the old aqueduct wells, just a hole in the ground lined with slabs of cut travertine.

After the tower, I went back to the old road, and it fizzled down to a small footpath that almost immediately plunged down into a ravine, crossed a dry stream bed and then back up the other side. A very steep climb.

At the end of it was the top of the next mountain, a place where the municipality has cut a path through the woods for the gas line. This is a nice open space with lots of pine trees and a bit of view of the valley. I made camp here and had a bit of late lunch.

The whole area of this flat-top hill was covered in animal trails, tracks and places where they’d come to dig up dinner. Some were small and clearly made by rabbits, or maybe porcupines (our European porkies don’t climb in trees, but dig for roots and worms and things) and other patches were obviously made by wild boar, that love to root around the base of pine trees. Lots of tasty pine nuts and acorns in the ground.

After a rest - when the wind started to get bitterly cold - the last leg of the walk. Up the winding road to the top.

There’s quite a few people who live up here. There are two villages, the new subdivision of very nice and posh looking houses, with lovely gardens, called Scogliare and an older village further down the slope called Testaccio.

The upshot being that not one single spear of asparagus was left. I guess it’s more or less theirs and people who live around there would know where to look. Every patch of asparagus I found had only the stubby ends of the broken off stems. We’ll have to do our asparagus hunting tutorial video tomorrow. I know where there’s some good ones.

But mostly this unpaved road just runs through forests and small cultivated areas all the way to the end of the mountain ridge. At this time of day, and on the shaded side of the mountain, I was starting to think about cinghiale - wild boar. They have lots of very visible trails and tracks all over the place, with lots of places where it’s obvious they’ve been as recently as yesterday. You can see the places in the soft earth where they dig, and these patches are covered in hoof prints. So it’s an issue. Not a good idea to be here when they’re on their nightly runs.

Time to be getting home for my tea. Last leg of the walk.

The Fontana Feronia, named for the ancient Roman nymph or spirit of the springs to whom one left offerings in pre-Christian times. In 1984, the local speleological group carried out exploratory surveys inside the tunnel of the ancient source of the water, dating it, due to its construction characteristics and techniques, between the 4th century BC and the 3rd century BC. This structure dates only to the 16th century, restored in the ‘90s. The Roman aqueduct system only expanded and strengthened them, and improved the system. No one really has any idea how old the tunnels are or who made them.

Very last bit, just a shortcut from the castle to the lower road. Very tail end of sunset reflected on the trees at the top.

Sometimes I have to pinch myself. Do I really live here?

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Thanks for joining me today in this post. I thought we could all use a break. For people who have inquired, yes it’s possible again to use my Ko-Fi page, connected to PayPal account to donate. I know I’ve mostly been Tweeting lately, but it seems like that’s all anyone can do just to keep up with the pace of events. Thanks for all the help and encouragement. It’s been a pretty strange few years, hasn’t it, and it isn’t looking like it’s slowing down. Let’s stick together, as much as we can.

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