A walk in a Siberian wilderness

A walk in a Siberian wilderness or at least that is what it felt like. The trees were white, but not white with snow they were white with frost from the freezing fog, the fields white with fallen snow.

I took the same walk as yesterday, only this time I went to the end of the country lane. could have carried on as the muddy tracks no frozen or will be with a few more days of subzero temperature, but I was feeling tired, it was late afternoon and the light was fading I decided to turn around and head back.

Afternoon walk near Washingborough

afternoon walk along country lane

low sun shimmering on cobwebs in ploughed field

An afternoon walk along a country lane that goes nowhere.

Up Church Hill past Washingborough Hall, to the top, cross the main road, then along the lane opposite.

Well not strictly true, does not go anywhere. At the end of the lane tracks heading off in three directions, but too muddy to follow. After a hard frost yes.

Before Christmas the fields were flooded, what had looked like standing pools of water were flowing.

In nearby Heighington, springs appeared.

The field has now been ploughed. The sun was reflecting off the field, not as as I first thought off the ploughed soil, the field was covered in cobwebs, as was the grass edges. A path of light, as would get with the setting sun across the sea.

Coming back, by the time Washingborough Hall reached, my legs had turned to lead.

A walk to a church then up a mountain

nearby church from Hotel Alla Corte - Bassano del Grappa

It was the morning after the party the night before.

We got in at 3-30am in the early hours of the morning from Paulo Coelho’s St Joseph’s Day party. I awoke not long after 6am.

I somehow dragged myself down to breakfast. I felt dreadful, my head would not stop throbbing. I felt sick.

My friend Russian friend Dasha was down to breakfast, but no sign of my Japanese friends. Dasha asked when did I get in? She got in at 3am.

As there was no sign of my Japanese friends, I took myself for a walk to Villa Bianchi (arch A Palladio), a 16th century Italian villa.

On getting back, Dasha and family were preparing to leave. We had a chat, and said our farewells.

I found Ken and Yumi finishing breakfast. No sign yet of Mio.

We had a chat with a film maker, Yumi made her an origami figure of a crane. Ken and I went down the road in search of a bank. No, they could not change Yen, suggested we try banks in Bassano del Grappa.

On our return we found Mio had emerged. As Ken and Yumi did not wish to go out for at least an hour and as it was too nice a day to waste, I suggested to Mio we went off for a walk to the nearby church that we could see on a hillside. The church we could see from our hotel.

As we set off, I suggested we could maybe then go for a walk along the river, but realistically we did not have the time and I was not sure how long it would take. I had walked along the river on my first day, and that had been a three hour walk.

We find our way to the church. We walked all round, tried every door, but sadly all were locked. We were unable to gain access to the church.

Outside the church a wooden cross with a hen atop. Not something I had ever seen before. The church also had painted on its wall a sun, a pre-Christian symbol.

Let’s carry on up, I suggested, see how far we can get.

Mio agreed, and after a short rest, off we trekked.

It was a wonderful walk. Sunny, very hot. very peaceful and quiet. The only sound was the birds singing and rustling in the leaves as lizards scrambled away on hearing our approach. Occasionally we caught sight of the lizards as they scurried away.

We were greeted by dogs protecting their property. Whether friendly or not we did not get to find out as luckily we were always separated by a wall or a fence. We greeted them and carried on upwards.

As we climbed, a panoramic view unfolded below. Views of the mountains, views of the flat plain that extended all the way to Venice. Far below we could see in the near distance the Italian villa opposite our hotel.

To the side of us lovely grass slopes, wooded banks.

In the woods we found a lovely blue flower. I knew what it was but could not recall its name. It also grows in the woodland area of my garden and I found it in flower a few days later on my return.

We found four, maybe five, species of butterfly flitting around. Mostly small, including a white one with orange tips to its wings. I caught a glimpse, but that is all it was, of a much larger butterfly, maybe twice the size.

The road turned into a stony track and eventually petered out, the way forward blocked by a gate.

It was time to turn around and set off back down as Yumi and Ken would be waiting for us.

On our way down, it struck me how like an Alpine church was our little church. I do not even know its name.

We found Yumi and Ken waiting for us. We set off for Bassano del Grappa, along a little road, past the 16th Century Italian villa and then to walk along the river.

As we passed the villa, a man we had spoken to a previous day, stopped and chatted to us. He told us that the villa had an associated winery. That in the vineyards they grew three varieties of grapes, Merlot, Pinot and a third variety we had not heard of. He said the wine was exported all over the world. He said we coud go take a look but did not know if anyone was there.

We retraced our steps and looked in what I thought of as the farmyard. We found packed cases of wine, what we assumed were vats for fermenting the wine, barrels for storing the wine, but no one was around to talk to or sell us any wine.

We then continued our walk into Bassano del Grappa. I picked up a stick, which Ken found ideal for walking with. It was a lovely sunny day for our last day in Bassano del Grappa. And I was slowly slowly recovering.

It could not have been a nicer or more pleasant day for our last day in Bassano del Grappa. We set off in good spirits.

Flowers: There are 1200, maybe 1600, flowering plants in northern Europe. I used to know them all, be able to identify them all, even though it may have meant spending half a day sat by a plant trying to identify it. Mushrooms and fungi and grasses too. Now the best I can do is see a plant, know I know what it is, but be unable to give it a name.

Wood anemone (Anemone nemorosa) is a white spring woodland flower. Blue anemone (Anemone apennina) is a close relative, looks the same but with blue-purple flowers, not white.

An afternoon walk in a storm

setting sun

This morning a storm hit, gale force winds and very heavy rain.

This afternoon I decided I would go out for a walk in the countryside in the storm.

It was a bit hairy to say the least.

The wind was howling through the trees. Branches were snapping off.

As I walked under a tree, I did wonder would a heavy branch come crashing down on my head. Temping fate.

Thick black snow clouds came scudding in, but they passed as quickly as they arrived.

The sun was setting as I set off. Now it was getting dark.

It was only a few degrees above zero, wind chill made it much lower.

I walked almost to the top of a hill and was almost blown away. My head was numb with the cold.

Walking back, I thought of Santiago conjuring up the wind. [see The Alchemist]

Wind speeds locally:

Skegness 67 mph
Cranwell 60 mph