Riserva Lo Zingaro

1/5 Scopello to San Vito Lo Capo - 15.57 miles

I woke up in Scopello, a tiny town on the fringe of a nature reserve called Riserva Lo Zingaro (Gypsy Reserve, though there were no gypsies, don't worry). The place I had slept had been recommended to me back in August by Andrea and Silvia (from Genova), who had been here twice before and were in love with the area, and it was indeed a lovely, family-run establishment. After a delicious breakfast and long chat with the owner, who generously presented me with bread, jam, and fruit for lunch, I followed the signs to the reserve.

The man at the ticket booth held a long and passionate discourse on the folly of marriage, presenting a misogynistic and pessimistic case. He sat all day in the booth with no one to talk to, then went to a second job washing dishes, and returned home to his wife of 35 years, who only give him grief and made him feel small. I could not help but feel great compassion for this tormented soul, and tried to cheer him up, with little success.

I must have stood there, with backpack strapped tight, for over a half-hour, but when he began to repeat himself, I made good my escape, wishing him a change of heart or a path of mental escape. Still, I had some tasty food for thought as I began to explore the reserve, and was happy that his negativity had not stifled my good spirits.

The reserve was beautiful, a sea of brushland and small date palms, with several precious beaches tucked away in hard to reach inlets. I took the low road, forgoing the view of the steep hills directly above me for the ability to access the water. Having discovered that the reserve was quite small, I took my sweet time, thoroughly exploring different roads, eating a leisurely beach lunch, and relaxing in my isolation. This stretch of coast, somewhat comparable to the Cinque Terre in size, was the only other place where I had to pay to walk, but at least I only saw four people the whole time, while the Cinque Terre made walking feel like a long wait in a slow-moving line.

The rest of my day's walk took me up and down some seaside hills, through a great many cow, goat, and sheep pastures, and ended at San Vito Lo Capo, a recently and hastily constructed seaside tourist trap that was in 100% hibernation mode for the winter. I overpaid for my hotel, explored what felt like a ghost town, and hit the hay early.