Gobble Up Turkey

Tuesday 29th September 2026

Another pretty good sleep, but dreams didn’t come true- the BOM got the forecast right with rain and strong winds lashing the windows. It didn’t augur well for a 22-23 kilometre walk rated Moderate.

We did start the day well with another bowl of warm porridge topped with brown sugar and Baileys Cream- only the Irish could infuse alcohol into a meal at 730.

The room was full of walkers with varying approaches to the day with some taking a taxi all the way and others catching one to the 9 kilometre mark. Others like us were playing it by ear and deciding what to do at the 9 kilometre mark where a bus could be taken. In true Irish fashion the mine host answered our question about the whereabouts of the bus stop by saying “there’s no shelter or sign just a tree”. We could but hope it was the only tree around.

Covered in trusty poncho’s we headed out of town almost immediately onto a country lane which naturally took us upwards into the foothills. It was a little busy with the postie starting early and patents taking kids to school meaning us standing to attention on the side of a narrow lane with our bums in the blackberries.

Unlike other days we struck a couple of intrepid walkers also chancing their arms with the weather and ending up playing hates and tortoises over the day with a group of three Irish Americans.

The scenery, when able to lift the head, was again spectacular albeit closed in by rain and yes – low hanging clouds. A smattering of horses, cows and sheep but still no pigs to support all of the bacon served at breakfast. Not many farmhouses, mainly a selection of ramshackle and pristine barns. Many abandoned houses had been repurposed as barns.

Track headed onto the coast and we came upon a ruined castle from the 1500(around time when Spaniards were visiting these shores) and a beach that resembled a kids ball pit with rocks forming a seawall.

The rain was persistent and the wind gusty, sometimes it would be blowing so strongly our poncho’s turned into spinnakers. Thankfully it was blowing from behind and giving a helping hand.
After a couple of hours we reached what was what we thought to be the bus stop and turned towards the main road. Turned out we were well short, but there was a farm shop, unmanned, where we could take some cover and have a brief respite from weather.

Our next landmark was a ‘pay as you go’ portable toilet a local farmer provided to prevent those bear in the woods moments – whilst well patronised I can’t imagine it was a great revenue raiser.

Couldn’t get away from the fact we were running away from our bathroom renovation when we came upon another rest stop in the shape of a chair made from a discarded bath. A passing Canadian couple snapped a shot for us. We didn’t see them again so they were either hares or took the bus.

The weather abated for a while and when we popped out next to ‘that tree’ we decided to soldier on in hope weather would stay benign.

The track soon changed to farm tracks, sometimes, grass and other times wet dirt scuffed by animal movements and covered in other animal movements. Walking through pastures meant multiple up and overs of the stiles- not a particularly easy or graceful exercise.

The wind and rain got worse and when checking weather later it indicated they were between 58-75 with gusts up to 100kms per hour.

The hills dwarfed us on one side and beautiful pastures flowed out towards the coast, unfortunately the change in course meant a wind direction change and we were often using the poles to maintain balance.

The hours wiled away and after an on the run lunch we saw the distant hills above Dingle. Like most hiking trails we immediately headed away from the hills to walk a long route around a deep gorge. After essentially 5.5 hours without taking tne packs off it was a bit dispiriting, until we saw the 3 hares sitting on a rocky outcrop just ahead- could it be a chance for the tortoises to extract a win on a tough day.

A bit like a pit pony close to home the pace clicked up a notch and we passed them and another single walker to crest the hill just 2 kilometres from town. Downhill isn’t always that easy, so we ignored the pain and marched into Dingle, knocked on the door of the B and B, vaulted up the stairs and promptly crashed into the bed 6 plus hours from starting.

After a little recuperation and well and truly rugged we set off to town to dine at one of the recommended seafood restaurants. Well that was the first disappointed they were either closed or fully booked. Seems there is a mini invasion of Americans and Canadians at this time of the year in a town that lives on tourism.

We wandered around a town which abounds with B&B’s, bars and restaurants and found one around the harbour that we could squeak into. Looking for a bit of post dinner entertainment we made our way back to the Dimgle Hotel for some music and to catch a show with 5 time world champion Irish dancer David Geaney.
The place was packed at 800,surprisingly we got 2 prime seats in the corner. That lasted a whole 5 minutes when the band playing the late gig gave us the heave ho.

We managed to snuggle into a spot for one next to the bar and enjoy a couple of drinks and the first band. At 900 they was still no sign of the dancer, just the support band playing some great music which had a rollicking response. Managed to win a sprint for a spare two seats and get a good spot to watch what turned out to be an amazing display of dancing. There was a bit of crowd participation where volunteers were randomly selected – we thankfully made ourselves invisible. It was interesting to find out later that our Sydney neighbours kids had danced with this guy during Covid.

With the clock striking 11 it was time for two tired but fully entertained walkers to head home knowing it will be a tourist day in Dingle tomorrow where weather is predicted to be rainless and a little less windy.

Monday 28th September 2026

Camp to Annascaul

Being far from the madding crowd meant a very peaceful nights sleep and only just beat the alarm. Breakfast room had a marvellous view over the bay, but we were not early enough to beat the Yanks and get a prime viewing spot.

Thought I would go for a light breakfast and take the home made porridge and fruit. Well a bowl arrived with enough for me Goldilocks and the 3 bears and it was delicious. Jane’s eggs and smoked salmon hit the spot with her.

Bade farewell to mine host , who was just as loud this morning, and the guard dog to head off on a walk just shy of 19 kms without diversions.

Retread the steps from last night only this time uphill to rejoin the trail and head for the other side of the peninsular. The path was like carpet n comparison to yesterday on a country lane and then farm trails, often grass, running between the sheep paddocks.

The sea view started to disappear and it was daunting mountains on both sides. Thankfully we were walking through the saddle. The sheep with their coloured markings were scattered from down on the flat to high upon the hills, with one particular bloke perched on a fence like a lookout sentinel.

The tracks had some pretty steep ups and downs and a couple of tricky stream crossing on mossy stepping stones- thank God for the guide ropes.Also water levels were down meaning us avoiding long diversions.

Again not too many walkers on the trail , only the occasional farmer on his rounds. Thankfully all the stiles from yesterday all but disappeared and it was gate and kissing gate access through paddocks.

Made good progress to finally grab a glimpse of the sea and Inch Beach which is famous for a few things, surfing, windsurfing on wheels and of course the filming of Ryan’s Daughter. We took a break on a chair high above the beach to take it all in on a day where the sea was pretty benign but the wind was ok pushing along the windsurfers on the sand. The beach had plenty of people and cars dotted along it.

Resumed the walk and after 200 metres got a call from a walker from behind ‘ did anyone leave a green phone on the chair’. A quick feel of the picket gave the answer and it was a hurried retreat to pick it up. Got the expected tea and sympathy ‘ silly old man’ response and headed off steeply down hill off the track to visit the beach or at least a seat outside the pub.

Watched the action for a while then it was back up the road to tread the trail mostly uphill through more sheep and cows. Had a lovely chat with a local farmer who was feeding the sheep and weighing the cows. It was a conversation that will linger for a long time. Seems lamb and beef sales are on the wane and his view was ‘ it’s all those xxxxxx vegetarians eating avocados and drinking coffee who are the problem-‘Tis a bit hard growing fruit and beans here in this weather so we will just have to carry on and hope’. His daughter added a bit of balance, to his chagrin, by say ‘but these sheep and cows are vegetarians as well’. We thought it the right time to bade farewell and ponder.

Reached the top of the hills chased by a farmer in a tractor before a long downhill run into town on a road with seemingly no end. Town was very quiet and with check in at 400 it was a long wait sitting on cake and hot chocolate chatting to the locals at the only shop open in town.

It seems 400 was the bewitching hour and pub doors opened , as did our accommodation. Room was not as big as last night, but was comfortable with a view- actually everybody who walked past waved as they looked in.

Not much to see in town so headed to another Aussie hosted hotel- this time s Taswrgian- and enjoyed a drink and local fare before hobbling home to read tomorrow’s track notes and weather forecast with the latter a bit foreboding

10mm of rain and wind gusts up to 60kph. Can only hope the BOM guys get it wrong over here like ours.

Sunday 27th September 2026

Tralee to Camp

Two bleary eyed souls awoke after a late night soirée down stairs followed by an equally loud clean up made sleeping difficult. Think we managed about 3 hours sleep as a preparation for our first day on the Dingle Way.

Partygoers were all going for the hangover cure fry up whilst we had a mini version of the Irish breakfast – using a bread and butter plate works well.

A pretty mixed forecast, so we threw in the wet weather gear. First part of the day wound through the local park with a crew preparing for a Sunday Park Run- with orange bibs they were difficult not to notice.

The next three kilometres was along a canal path with the canal fed from Tralee Bay on one side and a swan littered marsh on the other. The path was busy with cyclists, dog walkers and joggers.

After 3 kilometers we reached the canal crossing that passed on of Europes largest working windmills. Popped through back blocks where kids were playing Gaelic footy- even the under 10’s had some good skills. Nit so the under 6 where coaches were herding cats.

In now heavy showers we started a steep uphill climb to the start of the walk through the moors and bogs which would be for the greater part of the day. The tour notes said stepping stones had been placed through the bogs- they lied. It was a loose rock pathway where you needed to be vigilant to dodge an ankle twister or waterway.

When you took the time to lift your head the scenery was sensational with huge mountains folding down into pasture lands sparsely inhabited by sheep.

Pretty lonely walk and only ran across about 6 other walkers. There was some very tricky down hill patches where rope guides were needed. Most stream crossings had narrow bridges or metal rails, though some were good old fashioned stepping stones.

A couple of chairs on high viewing points provided an opportunity to take in the scenery and fuel up. The walk is very different to Italy with less physical exsertion but much more concentration needed on foot placement.

We thought we were making good progress on the 18 kilometre journey, but reference to the map proved different. It was a long last 4 kilometres albeit with great views across Tralee Bay. A final steep downhill had us at Camp.

Welcomed by the B and B dog and what can only be described as the most unusual mine host. His Chicago upbringing was pretty obvious , dressed in Bears gear, a profanity laden welcome and a handshake with a hand that went up to my elbow.

We were given an apartment due to our experience at the previous place because he knew they always f..ked up accommodation for walkers and favoured partygoers with the good rooms.

Cleaned up and then headed off to the local pub for dinner where we were greeted by a young guy from Adelaide. Didn’t have enough petrol left to mosey down the road to another pub for a bit of music, we will save that for Dingle.

It was home to a big bed with a few extra blankets to ward off the cold and hopefully catch up with some shut eye.

Saturday 26th September 2026

Mallow to Tralee

No early alarm today, it was a casual breakfast and then off to the station to take a train to Tralee which will be the starting point for our walk.

A couple of hours taking in the scenery with farmlands and lots of animals on one side and emerald green hills, towered over by mountains on the other. We will venture closer to them as we progress along the Dingle Way.

Off the train and a short hop to our digs which was temporarily interrupted by a funeral procession of about 80 people.

Arriving early meant no room being available for us and the young couple who arrived at same time and were also doing the walk.

Went for a walk to find the laundromat for later in the day and to our surprise it was outside a service station/ car wash. Would be an interesting session later in the day.

With Tralee being relatively small we didn’t have much planned and on the way we noticed a major racing carnival was having its last day in Listowel. Whilst not having any finery we jumped on a bus for a 45 minute ride to the town.

The town was abuzz with people and an Irish band was smashing out great music in the town square, just a stones throw from a Luna Park like amusement park. With a couple of hours before race time we enjoyed the music and a lunch in a quaint cafe.

The racetrack was positioned on a riverside and was accessed by a castle side bridge which led to a stiletto challenging walk off about 800 metres on gravel for the dolled up local girls. The track and meeting was reminiscent of the famous Warnnambool carnival in Victoria with a crowd of about 5000 watching hurdle racing on the fifth day of the carnival which is the second biggest in Ireland.

Managed a pensioner entry fee of 25€ which meant a few winners were needed to claw back the days expenses. It was a pretty expansive set up with marquees behind the three grandstands and at least 50 bookmakers doing a roaring trade taking cash and debit cards along be it in Euro or Sterling.

The broadcast companies had several sizeable facilities set up around the track and there was no shortage of food and drink outlets. As the day progressed and crowd swelled a 30 minute wait for a drink was the order of the day.

Most of the grandstands were standup jobs and after Race 2 it was almost impossible to secure a spot. The race fields ranged from 7 to 21 and horses came from Ireland, UK and France.

Jane was the only one to secure a winner and after 4 races we made an early exit grabbing a spot on the fence over the back of the track where we got a Birds Eye view of the horses. We also got a great view of the nerve tingling rides at the fun park which one could only ride on an empty stomach.

Overall it was a great experience.

Headed for the bus stop and waited anxiously for a bus which was 20 minutes late. It was a joy to see it arrive after local told us it was cancelled the previous day.

Back in town we gathered the clothes and headed to an alternate outdoor laundry and stood around chatting to an excitable young Italian boy who had just completed the DinglevWay with his girlfriend. It was great to get a fresh perspective and heightened our anticipation.

Back at the hotel it was a nice dinner before retiring to lay awake listening to a rowdy party until 200am- not the ideal preparation for an 18km walk which is now predicted to be in rain and gusts up to 40mph.

Friday 25th September 2026

It was the day to farewell Italy, probably for the last time and head to the west coast of Ireland.

Gobbled up the last pastry and sipped the last cappuccino before jumping on the Airport Express to Bergamo. A 50 minute trip through highly industrial areas and passing the turn off to the famous Monza F1 track to be plonked at the secondary airport with a magnificent mountain view.

Based on advice regarding long processing times at security and customs we arrived early. Seems if you are not carry an English passport it’s a breeze, unless your replacement knee goes off . A quick ‘feel up’ for Jane and we were off.

Jumped on our Ryanair flight where to our surprise we had Exit rows for the 2.5 hour flight. The first part of the flight was amazing as we flew up over the Alps where many of the taller peaks were already covered in snow.

The trip passed quickly and we were off plane, luggage in hand and after 30 rapid fire questions from Customs Agent we were on the bus within 30 minutes.

A very busy trip through narrow streets down near the docks area where I am not sure I would like to spend much time. Pretty grim with lots of substance affected people staggering around. At one bus stop it was confronting to see a guy swap a small package for a pair of joggers and wander off bare-footed.

Finally arrived at another busy railway station to make our way halfway to coast, mainly because accommodation in Dublin was scant due to a concert featuring WESTLIFE. They had done 9 consecutive nights.

It was quite ironic that the two sisters we shared seats with to Mallow had been to the concert the night before. They were ‘craicing ‘ company as we laughed our way to our destination . They gave us a full rundown on what to expect in Mallow.
Off the train and down into a town the girls may have undersold. It had that charm of small country town with narrow streets , small raggedy shopfronts and plenty of places to have a feed.

Our hotel was really nice with about 70 rooms and great bars to sit and enjoy the atmosphere. The locals spoke a lot of Irish dialogue which was impossible to understand.

Headed off for a post dinner walk to explore town which was basically deserted- think they were all at our hotel. Didn’t have the time or energy to walk out and see the Mallow racetrack which is home to the Cork Race Club – famous for its Easter race meeting..

So now it’s turn our minds to walking again, with a trip to Tralee tomorrow to start. Irish weather is a bit different to Italy with 30mm of rain expected on Day 3. Looks like the freeloading poncho will earn its keep.

 Thursday 24th September 2026

Turin to Milan

Up early and off to the train station for a typical Italian breakfast and then a platform hunt for our regional train to Milan- thankfully with no scheduled transfers.

Got good seats positioned next to the luggage racks and enjoyed a journey towards Milan where we followed the ranges on one side and flat rural land on the other.

Pretty uneventful trip to be greeted by an absolute throng of people at the Milano Centrale, it was a grand station and the crowds had that Rome Termini feel about it.

Managed to find our way out pretty quickly to a chaotic transport hub filled with the touts, taxi drivers, beggars and of course the homeless.

Vasco had the Mapsme App on and we quickly navigated the 10 minute journey to our ‘Hotel’. As fortune may have it our room was available at 1100am giving us a chance to drop the luggage and head off on our day tour of Milan.

The great irony of these last two days was a food lover missing the food festival in Turin and someone whose wardrobe comes from Gazman and Katmandu arriving smack in the middle of Fashion Week. Thank God Jane’s Milanesque colourful top fitted in a bit with the theme.

The place was abuzz with people dressed to the nines. Those not pounding the footpaths were being ferried around in fleets of black limousines  with heavily tinted windows and fashion label signs signalling who might be aboard.

The cosmetic surgery industry must make a fortune up here with the LBGT community – not to be confused with the similar acronym involving sexual preference, this is all about having the best lips, boobs, guts and tits.

Jane developed a sore elbow and me sore ribs after being subtly reminded that there is a line between appreciating fashion and those wearing it to perving.

The one industry catering for men that you don’t want to be in is socks- seems shoes à la naturale are the go, no matter what outfits you are wearing.

The place is undergoing lots of construction and renovation with walking the paths requiring a decent sidestep to avoid hoardings, workers and rquipment. A step off the path is another realm with those bloody bicycles, especially the food delivery guys.

This attempt to beautify the city seems to be an ongoing battle against graffiti with any free wall or doorway in arms reach tagged in some form. It’s a fine line between an art form and vandalism.

There is an abundance of tourists as well and many of the popular spots like LaScala and the Doumo booked out by tours. We had to be content with a walk around the front and photo.

Ventured into the Gallerie Emanuel where Jane was in search of the bull mosaic . No guessing who stood on the bulls balls and spun around three times to achieve good luck- so the myth goes.

Had a short lunch break near the Doumo before continuing the sightseeing which included the expo for the European Volleyball Championships. Lots of interactive stuff including a competition to see who could jump the highest to perform a shot block. A group of young African guys sure demonstrated great athleticism which spooked me out of attempting to get two feet off the ground.

We continued further out of the centre of town to the Navigli area which is a mini Venice with a canal system, with motorised punts rather than gondolas. Both sides of the main canal are lined with cafes and restaurants all trying to outdo each other for the cheapest cocktails and Aperitivo offerings. The two bridges that cross the canal are covered in thousands of ‘lovers locks’ a phenomenon that has been embraced across Europe for many years.

We crossed the canal and decided that a little hydration with a couple of cocktails without food would be a nice way to ready us for the 90 minute walk back home. A Hugo, Limoncello and Cuba Libero did the trick and put a spring in the step.

Walked our way back through the university quarter where wreath wearing kids were celebrating their graduation with parents and friends in cafes and restaurants. 

Closer to the University the bars were doing a roaring trade with students just celebrating life. A group in the park appeared to be doing some impromptu speed dating.

A walk through the backstreets had us passing through suburban parks where families were just starting to assemble for the evening ritual.

Backtracking through some of the high profile fashion precincts had us dodging more black limo’s dropping of glamourous groups to functions in eclectic venues.

The walk continued along streets full of cars. Mostly small  ones who could navigate their way into the tiniest of parking spots. Then the motor cycles and bicycles who thought red lights and pedestrian crossings were mere decorations, making road crossing a game of roulette. 

The public transport was a mix of buses, trolley buses and trams. The latter had some relics which could have been castoffs from the Melbourne system.

Our 90 minutes turned into nearly two hours when we finally arrived back at the hotel and crashed for a half an hour.

Then it was a last meal in Italy – pizza, mista salad, wine and beer- what else.

Wednesday 23 September 2026

Alba to Torino

Another relatively peaceful sleep and it was down to the big brekky and see off a few of the Swedish hares before wending our way town to the station for a local train ride to Torino.

Pretty uneventful trip taking in the views which just about tripled our variety of animals seen so far with horses and sheep in small numbers dotted along the way.

Closer to Torino the tall mountains to the south east turned out to be where the Winter Olympics events involving altitude were held.

A bit of a mixed result on the train change over, galloping across two platforms via the stairs only to be forced to retrace the steps with a platform change which had us scrambling to catch the new train. Lugging 28 kilo’s of luggage makes for a healthy work out.

On arrival quickly found our way to the hotel where luggage was to be stored, only to find the Lemon Queen from Nieve had sent her daughter down for training – never struck such a miserable and unhelpful type in all my travels- she is obviously not cut out for customer service.

Did a quick tour to find where our accommodation was which included the start of our ‘find a homeless person day’. The degree of homelessness and number of trinket sellers among the African community in Italy is very sad and probably goes a long way towards the anti migration sentiment over here.

Torino is definitely a place for the well presented, no unpainted nails, no hair out of place and a tracksuit, unless Gucci, not to be seen.

There is a bit of a Bologna feel about the place with many an ancient and new portico. The variations in architecture is amazing ranging from Roman ruins through Gothic to modern day designs.

The place is absolutely buzzing with preparations taking place for the Slow Cooking Festival which ironically starts tomorrow- if we are to retain any fitness it might be a convenient piece of timing.

Tents lined every street from the main square all way down to the Po River. It was actually difficult to get pictures of prominent sites because of them blocking the view. That said it was an amazing array of food not only from Italy, but all across the world.

After wandering around town we found a recommended restaurant for lunch. They passed the first couple of steps of choosing a restaurant, look for locals and avoid those with spruikets. It had a simple set menu at reasonable prices and it’s 100 seats were full and there was a queue to get in. Seats were not empty for long, on average they were filled within a couple of minutes.

Food and service was great and with full bellies we headed down to look at the Po River . It had a bit of sentimental value as we started our first walk from Milan to Rome not far from it and followed it for a few days.

it’s a pretty wide and slow flowing river with the banks dotted with eateries on one side and Rowing Clubs on the other.

Wandered our way back to town and found our very modern apartment where mine host gave us a run through on the 5 levels of security to get in. Dropped off luggage and more adventuring around the City where cafes and bars were just starting to get into the Apertivo zone. Somehow we refrained and kept wandering.

After a little siesta it was out into the streets looking for a dinner spot. Stopped at one and after a drink over a chat with some Poms from Shrewsbury decided to move on as it had a pretty ordinary menu.

We wandered a bit into the suburbs and spotted a local restaurant with one patron and the best menu. Within half an hour we were eating a delightful meal in a restaurant packed with locals and more waiting to grab a seat.

Struck of in search of a Gelato, but unfortunately all closed around 900, so it was back home and to bed to research some more for our time in Milan after a lovely time in Torino.

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.

Monday 21st September 2026

Benevello to Nieve

The worries of the home tenovation had me awake at 312am, but quickly had head back on the pillow after confirmng my payment from afar had been successful and work was continuing.

A nudge in the ribs had me awake at 657, the longest sleep on tour and hoping it’s an omen for the future. Enjoyed a breakfast on the terrace looking at Monte Viso with an Aussie family at the adjacent table. Jane started the awkward moment day asking the daughters name – “Luca is his name , the length of his hair confuses many’

After that oops moment it was a bit of gagging on the wheeties and very little further conversation .

Settled up the bill and headed on our easy rated walk of about 17 kms. After the first hour we wondered whether we had the map upside down as we reached the highest point of the day about 250 metres in elevations from where we started.
The views on both sides were stunning with the Piedmont mountain ranges on one and the now familiar patchwork quilt of vineyard and nut plantations rising up the hillsides.

Again no animals other than a motley lot of mutts protecting houses- seems yesterdays barn held cows are the only we are destined to see.

The trail had a bit on an up and down state for most of the morning, but on lovely earthen which sometimes ducked into eerie forests which were dark and damp.

As the Piedmont mountains disappeared the 4600 metre big cousins in the French Alos started to fill the horizon and draw us closer to our destination.

The farmers were out in all their glory with fields being tended and barrows of picked grapes rumbling along the little country roads . Most of the wineries don’t adopt a cellar door approach and appointments need to be made to secure a tasting.

A couple of hours in we ran across a two cyclists from Switzerland and had a hilltop chat. Ironically they had family in Bundanerg and new all about Bundy rum.

Although we had a packed lunch we headed into Treiso which was just off the trail. Found a bar which was surrounded by the school, sporting fields, playground and the church which is probably the hub of the town around 5 pm. We enjoyed a couple of hydration boosting pilsner before setting of again , The bar was in a little grotto and above was a ‘believe it or not’ story about the grotto being formed to swallow up 7 irreligious brothers. I contend if they can’t name them it might just be another religious Italian myth.

Headed up out of town for some more sawtooth walking before a long downhill run to the flat spot of the day. Right at the intersection was an amazing array of sculptures made solely from wine bottle corks – you might say it came from something a bit easier to swallow.

Not sure if it was a day walking in the sun or we simply lost the plot reading the direction App, but we spent 15 minutes trying to find our way forward including walking into people’s backyards.

Finally found the way forward and beat our way along a local road passing huge yards selling everything from wooden posts to huge concrete blocks,. It was far from the picturesque scenery we had enjoyed all day.

Found our last big hill of the day that led into town and to say we laboured up it would be kind, it was more like staggered. Thankfully one turn had us at the gates of the accommodation where we were greeted by mine host who looked to have spent her life sucking lemons. She was the antithesis of the warm, bubbly and friendly staff who greeted us yesterday.

First floor room with a great view of town with its old castle taking pride of place, if only it had a lift.

The first thing we spied was the pool and for the third consecutive day we donned the swimmers and enjoyed the chilly but refreshing plunge which eased the aches and pains.

Jane left early and I lingered around before heading upstairs later. Unfortunately, I forgot whether we were in room 2 or 3. Now it was my turn for the awkward moment. I chose door 2 because it was ajar and I thought Jane may have left it open. Wasn’t the case in I marched and one of our fellow walkers was propped up in bed. Hopefully “Oops sorry” was apology enough . I spent rest of the afternoon pondering what to say if we cross paths at breakfast. Jane was very supportive saing “you won’t see her again after tomorrow stop worrying’. Fine amight just see if they do a room service breakfast tomorrow.

The best laid plans immediately when we walked out the door to go to dinner with the first person I run into is the bedroom girl- thought ‘ I didn’t know you with your clothes on ‘ might have gone flat so just smiled and moved on .

An uphill walk to the city and most bars and restaurants that were open were pretty well full.

Enjoyed a couple of aperitivo’s before going in search for our preferred restaurant and the long line outside suggested – no booking no dinner’. It was confirmed by maitre de so off a hunting we went. We drew blanks on everything bar a wine bar where a charcuterie board and hazelnut torte was to be our dinner.

Went home full bit disappointed and hopefully on our last night tomorrow we enjoy more success.

The real win of the night was the magnificent sunset -?those red sky at night shepherds should be well pleased.

Tomorrow is a short but lumpy 22 Kms to where we started in Slba snd then off to Turin.

Sunday 20th September 2026

Cravanzana to Benevello

Wow what a win woke at 400am and dozed till 500am, I must be slowly beating the Sleep God.

Readied ourself for a day where we would go down 600 metres and then up again 800 metres to our mountain top destination of Benevello.

Breakfast was pretty scant and no offer of a packed lunch so a quick visit to the Market had our supplies to sustain us for the 15.7km journey. With hotter weather predicted the pack was a tad heavier with extra water.

Amazing feeling to start the day with a downhill walk, initially on tarmac and then paths through hazelnut plantations. This area of the Langhe concentrates mainly on nuts with a smattering of wine. Like in the wine areas every piece of useable land as far as the eye could see was under cultivation. They value the crop with most planting protected by electric fences and catching nets along the outside to make sure none fall out for the scavengers.

They sure look after the plantations with most of the ground covered in hay to prevent weeds and retain moisture.

We did have a first today when a pungent smell led us to a barn full of very healthy cows who must live a barn only life and feed on grain,

It was a typical Sunday in Italy with the air full of the roar of motorcycles and echo of gunshots. Seems everyone wants to be Moto GP rider or a candidate to join the DJT Assasination Squad. The bikers like nothing better than to come as close as possible when passing you on the road.

With a fair bit of the last downward stretch on windy roads they had plenty of opportunities. Looking at some of the permanent and temporary railings protecting them from 200 metre falls some may have cheated death on a few occasions.

The funniest budding racer was a guy laying his Lambretta down as he challenged the corners- at his speed he was lucky to stay upright.

At the bottom of the hill was a cafe/bar heaving with motor cyclists off all ages fitted out in team leathers, along with the Lycra clad cyclists and the pole clinking hikers.

It was situated adjacent to a 300 metre long bridge that forded a river that would make the Torrens in Adelaide look like the Nile. Ironically it was named Belbo Torrento . As we crossed a cavalcade of vintage sports cars paraded by with all the drivers looking cool as you would expect in Italy.

Crossing the bridge was the beginning of a couple of hours plugging our way uphill on different surfaces often weaving in and out of mountain side plantations and forested areas. Halfway up was an ideal stopping point to rehydrate and watch our Swedish hate mates pass by after them taking a shortcut.

The track was nowhere near as tough as yesterday ,surface wise, but it was steeper and longer. The lungs sure got a workout as did the eyes as the higher elevation opened up more amazing views.

Amazing was the right word when you looked across some of the tallest mountains in Piedmont including Monte Viso at 3800 metres sitting amongst a huge backdrop of mountains in the Alps. The locals say it was the mountain used in the Paramount Pictures logo- who were we to challenge.

The long and winding downward trip had us in Benevello where the hares were enjoying a drink so we decided a wine and a 660ml bottle of beer would be enough to see us through the 500 metres or so to our accommodation.

Ahan the accommodation was splendid with large rooms, a pool and plenty of room to sit in the sun and take in the majestic views.

We managed a swim,sun bake and a couple of aperitivo’s watching a magnificent sunset before enjoying another lovely meal and bottle of local white wine.

Tomorrow promises another wnderful days walking with only 250 metres of elevation to conquer in a 17 km walk – ot might even have a 2 km short cut which we could consider.

Apologies for lack of photos – trying to resolve a dispute between Google and WordPress regarding photo sharing