A short walk up a small hill

8/25 - Chiavari to Bracco, a short walk up a small hill
16.34 miles walked

I get an early start at 8:30, and am proud of how quickly I am making progress putting away the tent and getting ready.. I plan to hit the road shortly, but give in to the offer of coffee and biscuits from a retired couple in a camper van next to me. The quick grab turns into a lingering chat, but they finally leave and I am ready to go. But then my next door neighbors, the family from Rome, start talking to me, and soon the whole family is chiming in about Rome, about construction setbacks due to ancient ruins, about the best way to approach the city on foot, the fact that all roads do indeed lead to Rome (in Italy at least), and soon it is 10:30. Having given up any semblance of timeliness, I make way to the beach to catch a couple rays before I take off. I head out at noon: right on time.

After powering through six miles to Sestri Levanti, a charming little town that is not often visited but is worth the stop, I take a long lunch break in the shade, letting the sea breeze dry the sweat from my brow.
It is time to turn inland now, since the road is too narrow for pedestrians along the tunnels that line the coast, or so they tell me. Ready to see another side of Liguria anyhow, I head away from the water, making my way up a very slight incline. For a long while the way is easy, and I wonder when the Ligurian mountains are going to hit me. In the meantime, I take a short rest to decide where I'll sleep that night. Here's where I took my little rest.

Making a few phone calls, all of which turn out unsuccessfully, I resign myself to fate, and head toward the mountain pass near Bracco, hoping to find a place to sleep there. I had made a turn in a different direction before in anticipation of staying in a different town, so in order to get back on the road to Bracco, I must take a right turn on what seems like a short, harmless road, at least on my GPS. By now, though, you can't fool this old dog. Innocent and two-dimensional, I nonetheless see it for what it is, and prepare myself for a steep uphill climb.

With the little battery I have left on my Zune, I put on Hey Jude by the Beatles, and have myself a nice little solo jam session. I couldn't explain it to you now, but I had one of those moments, and began belting out the melody, walking in rhythm, and using my trekking poles like drumsticks on the pavement. After many a "naaaa, naa naa na-na na-naaaa, Hey Jude" 's, the song came to an end, but I was not ready to leave the moment, so I played the whole song again, start to finish, going into falsetto when necessary, inserting those little phrases between lines ("let it out"), and panting toward the end from the exertion of walking quickly and singing simultaneously. I'm sure I scared many a wild boar and guard dog, but I had a blast, and it helped pass the time. You can't top a moment like this, and almost as if on purpose, the battery died as soon as I started to play the next song. So, with spirits sky-high, and letting it out and letting it in, I huffed and puffed my way up to Bracco.

The sun was setting as I walked into a small market to ask about nearby lodging: the friendly if only a tad impatient grocer pointed me down the road, where I found a one-star hotel, and infinitely more important, an upright piano, which I lustily eyed as we discussed the price of the room. Did I want to see the room first? This, of course, meant that it wouldn't be very nice, but 1) I was on foot, so my options were limited, 2) any room was better than my tent, in which I had spent the last 3 nights, and 3) did I mention they had a piano?

As it turned out, the room was not so bad at all, and after a quick shower (down the hall, but again no complaints) I floated down the stairs and played for a solid hour. They were happy with my playing, and gave me a glass of local white and some olives as a token of appreciation. I also made friends with the chef: always a good idea, since I would eat dinner at the hotel as well. Everyone was very friendly, my playing was sloppy but close enough to the real thing, and when it came time for dinner, the food (meats, preserved eggplant, pasta alla Genovese, and roasted rabbit, looking sloppy in the photo but really well-prepared) was delicious and bountiful.

Going to bed, I remarked to myself how great the treatment is off the beaten track, and I looked forward to the Southern regions of Italy for that reason especially.