The last remark made me sigh. After a week of motani wild in Italy I felt the best way possible. However, the girl dreamed of the fruits of civilization. Their hand was not as money, in order to receive these benefits in sufficient quantity. The cost of the hotel was forced to squint their eyes from the horror.
So after climbing on the rocks late in the evening I went roaming around the town of Frascineto. Presenting soberly fanaticism Italians, one could hope to find mountaineering club. Even in such pampas. And just as in the dark on one of the fences I saw an old poster... on it in the light of the "weave" read the address... asked in a cafe. It was right around the corner and going to the door of one of nondescript houses, managed to hear a few specific words. Spoke to three people, with the Italian enthusiasm. And seeing me, not embarrassed, told him to sit down.
An hour later, after the meeting, one of them took somewhere in othe darkness. And not surprised to see my girlfriend with eyes full of hope. At the next turn was warm house, full coveted benefits of civilization, the good wife is Italian, lots of delicious food. So fifteen minutes Olga splashed in the local hot jets of soul, and I sipped homemade red wine with the owner. His name was Nicola Sakata. He had not been surprised, but only shrugged their shoulders when I say "Everest, Nepal, alpinismo, Grazie". And nodded skeptically. They say, you never know what will BALTNET cretin-a foreigner.
Park Pollino was formed in mountainous areas. The name derives from the popular peaks are not very high, by the way. Here are many interesting towns. The population is mainly agriculture and livestock career development. Many years ago these places were conquered by the Normans, who for centuries have identified as the gene pool, and cultural and political development. However, five hundred years ago on the East coast of the Peninsula team arrived at the Albanians. Orthodox fled from the Turkish thugs, and found shelter in a dozen villages, fertile valleys Castrovillari. Now there are traditions, language, religion. And even the names are all written in Albanian.
Leaving children under the care of seniors giuseppini, we proceeded to explore the area. For the evening we managed to explore a lot only thanks to the energy Nikola. He was very Italian literature, took me by cafes and museums, showed beautiful ancient temples. Already at sunset we ran up the steep trail to one of the adjacent vertices. "It's the wolves ate" - carelessly waved his hand at svejeispechennyi the cow skull. I flinched in shock. However, the range was extended warm Calabria. From a height were visible two sea - Tyrrhenian and Ionian. On the West was burning in the flame of the tender Italian sun on the light.
This gain can be had with a deep love for his land.
- Is mount Pollino, there's the Sella. And in the center of the high - Dolcedorme, is the tenth time he sang and danced hand over possessions.
- Dolcedorme? - wastrel I ears. That's because on top of sweet sleep? Who slept there? You slept during the traverse?
The mountains here a little over two thousand meters. But the elevation changes are significant due to the proximity to the coast. You can "do" drops five or six kilometers. Despite the fact that local climbers are increasing the complexity of the enormous distances - from sea to sea.
- Probably, Yes. Don't know, " smiled Nicola. "When I fled from the Ionian sea to the Tyrrhenian, the "missed" by. And yonder in the distance Capo d'orso. In winter the array Obiedinenie, and without the "cats" impassable.
Even Nicola with warmth showed scatterings of flowers in the dry spiny gorges. And almost reverently uttered: "This road". Bushes rocks eagerly pressed to the crystal lines of streams. They were different shades of pink, red, white, yellow - waves swayed in the wind. In such manenti poem I then remembered the wild rhododendrons of Nepal.
In the morning, a habit I got in 05 PM. We had to climb, stretch your muscles on zacapa prior to joining garagoa sun. Went out to the terrace outside the window sleepily were imurel eyes provincial town. All the colors and smells of Calabrian cuisine. To submit icy cliffs above him - even in winter it was difficult. However, I remembered lying on the spur of the Pollino January snow. Once upon a time, in dreams about beautiful Italy. I thought that people here are strong and hardy - because we live on a fragile line between Land, ocean and sky, in the grip of winter and summer, snow and oleanders. Orthodox Albanians, who five hundred years ago built their temples, the Italians that cherish the heritage of the North ready mixed with African mournful motifs is forever. That doesn't erase from memory and history.
- Dolce Vita, Ragazzi! - I waved a hand in passing the open Porsche local guys. Their glamor girls from the back seat threw long bare legs on the side of the machine. - Gorgeous day!
Therefore, when "loaded" children in the Fiat Idea, and rode to the North, I realized that I would return here. To open new routes on the rocks, drinking histamine sun Calabrian wine, inhale the scent of oleanders mixed with the sea breeze... But not in five years, but much earlier.