Tuesday 22nd September 2027

Nieve to Alba

I needed an interpreter to read my watch with a strange number appearing – 657. Yes I had finally beaten the Sleep Gods and slept right through- that well I hadn’t moved an inch all night. Perhaps the body knew it was the last day of the walk only 4.5 hours but still with plenty of hills to puff our way up.

The Queen of Lemons had relinquished the reins to a younger smiling assistant to guide us through another sumptuous brekky on a terrace in filtered sunshine courtesy of a pretty thick mist.

Breakfast done, settled an extraordinarily expensive minbar of 15 Euros for 2 waters and a Coke, then struck off up into the vineyards. They were a hive of activity with pickers , collectors and transporters often having us sidestepping both in vineyards and on country roads.

The mist gave the whole area a different look and wasn’t conducive to great photos, that said we kept snapping away to produce the memories.

Given the grapes were diminishing we thought it only fair to keep trying them on the way. Some of the last ones to be picked were almost like a fine glass of port.

Our first port of call was Barbaresco which is a bit like Handorf on steroids . The tall glass viewing tower that was a remnant of an ancient fortification, but now glassed in, provided amazing views for those happy to scale the hundreds of stairs. At 930 in the morning there were not many volunteers.

The town itself had several working wine making facilities and unlike living next to a coffee factory in Sydney the waft here could become a little intoxicating.

The town was just starting to get a stream of visitors who parked down the hill and wandered up for tastings of wine, cheese, truffle products, nuts and sweets. We stood out a bit as two sweaty messes who had hiked up a hill for an hour.

Took a break and rang Anna for her 43rd birthday in a soggy Sydney which was the opposite to our experience here with not a drop of rain in 9 days.

Sat and chatted to a few travellers and ran into Jane’s ‘girl boy’ from yesterday wandering around town.

Set off on another meandering path through the vineyards where the Marc or dregs of the crush were heaped up ready to be spread out to nourish the vines.

The picking activity continued at a frantic pace unlike us as we toiled up the steep hills. Ran into a bunch of kids on a school excursion who seemed a bit ambivalent to the two teachers trying to create history with a theatrical performance on an elevated pathway.

Found our way down the hill to walk along some farmyards with some healthy looking Roosters who if cooked would supply the average 10 year old for a week. The flatter ground ran along side a lovely flowing river which was secreted away until we crested the next tall hill which thankfully had a seat to crash on and enjoy the rivers beauty.

A final big hill conqueted we virtually careered downhil at pace, only to realise a large dump truck had hidden our turnoff. At a slower pace we retraced our steps, silently cursed the driver under our breath and headed down a very rickety set of stairs where holding the less than secure handrail was not an option.

Finally reached the outskirts and made a beeline for the cathedral which was the official end of the walk. Again two sweaty walkers stood out amongst the tourists and locals in their finery.

With the official walking part over we searched out a pizza restaurant recommended by some of Jane’s golf buddies to enjoy probably the best either of us had tasted. Took the opportunity to complement it with some nice wine and palate cleansing local beer.

The accommodation was just up the road and thankfully the rooms were open and available and gave us the chance to shower and look like tourists. Had an eventful time at the self service laundry before heading home to prepare for tomorrows journey to Torino.

The usual aperitivo was supposed to be followed by a simple pasta dinner and some dolce before heading home for what I reckon was a well earned sleep.

Mr ATM through a spanner into the works gobbling up my secondary Cash Passport card with an explanation in Italian. Thankfully it only had about E140 odd euros on it which I was able to get with the other card. Also had my Wise card which is the one I will use from now on.

In the end we couldn’t find a restaurant to satisfy Jane’s desire for a porcini pasta so we opted for second best and a glass of Barolo wine.

The usual gelato finish to the day was also off the cards with all of them closed – so it was home sadder but not fatter.

Tomorrow the train to Turin.