(text translated with google translate)
“Tomorrow I have a trek that you’ve never done before. Would you come and close the group?
Sure!”
The group is heterogeneous but stimulating, a mixture of ages, right and wrong shoes, punctual and late but all with a smile well printed on their face and that particular light in their eyes full of expectations.
All ready and on the way.
The first part of the journey is familiar to me and goes by fast. After a while we reach the cave that hosts us for the first pleasant break: there are those who explain, those who eat chocolate, those who challenge their breath take the opportunity to smoke a cigarette.
Let’s start once again! The path bends and climbs sternly until it leads us to the highest point: overlooking the Bove valley.
This stretch displaces me a bit because a cloud seems to have settled peacefully and confuses our sight. And, above all, it makes it difficult for me to take points of reference.
Do not forget this, because it is the reason why in the next blog I will tell you how one other time I managed not to find a path and I took the opportunity to discover another totally unexpected one.
Anyway, one foot ahead of the other and after a while we get to the point in question. Unfortunately, the view that I know well, and that leaves even the most experienced of travelers accustomed to any kind of panorama breathless, is covered by a soft blanket of condensed water vapor. The cloud is much larger than we thought and in fact leaves no room for the panorama.
Not bad, we will see the Bove valley in a short while walking inside and further on, perhaps, we will have the opportunity to admire it from above.
Luca guides us safely along a non-path path that cuts horizontally until it reaches the highlight of the day: the descent along the sandy gully that flows into the valley.
By all accounts, the particular noise of the lava stones on the path and the running descent sinking your feet into the sand were worth the tour alone.
How to blame them: I for one, despite having made several sandboxes by now, have fun every time like a novice teenager on skates.
You go down fast mimicking the gestures of the skiers, with the difference that instead of sliding you sink, one leap after another. The foot disappears up to the ankle in the black sand that gently slows the descent. The trick is to keep the weight completely downwards, then, once you become familiar with the ground, the clumsy movements turn into an incredulous and joyful hopping dance and the panorama that appears before us, finally clear of fog and clouds, it’s breathtaking.
Although for me the highlight of the walk comes shortly after.
As I told you last time I had already been in the valley, but on the opposite side and much lower than where I am now.
Here we are on the highest part of the immense lava flow of 1991-93, inside a valley surrounded by ridges hundreds of meters high, with the sensation of walking inside a gigantic flared pot. All around is mountains, behind, beyond the top of the ridge we are skirting, the south-east crater dominates quietly and at the bottom of the valley you can see the slightly blurred line of the sea.
In front of us sand and stones alternate with real basalt slabs at least a couple of meters thick, whose cracks give life to long labyrinthine channels.
You walk inside the fractures and over these huge flat blocks, hopping here and there to follow the fleeting path made even more uncertain by the incredible amount of sand fallen during the latest eruptions, capable of significantly changing the appearance and height of the soil.
But what really strikes me is the view from down here of the dikes that follow one another in this part of the valley.
Used to seeing these solidified slabs of lava from above, I didn’t realize how impressive they are.
Real basalt walls a few meters thick, characterized on the inside by geometric designs similar to mosaics, visible where the slab is interrupted, allowing its thickness to be seen. In height they reach the middle and sometimes even the top of the ridges that delimit and contain the whole Bove valley.
here it’s easy to feel like tiny creatures walking among the huge ribs of what remains of an ancient volcanic building.
I feel even smaller.
We continue walking, being careful where we put our feet but with the constant need to grasp every detail with our eyes, until the biological clock decrees the need for a stop for lunch.
Luca identifies the right place just before the entrance to the beech gully, a vertical strip of wood that, starting from the bottom, quickly brings you up. And from there we will then make the ascent.
In a few minutes we enjoy the setting up of a real picnic on the lava, complete with a bottle of wine uncorked instantly.
It’s time for jokes, good-natured teasing, “I liked it best” reports, and the atmosphere warms up even further if possible. It becomes confidence, exchange, sharing.
So much so that we hardly notice that time passes and it’s time to leave.
Leaving the valley we face the steep climb of about twenty minutes, shaded by the green leaves of the beech trees and propped up by their white trunks. Beautiful. It is tiring, I admit, but once you reach the top, the reward is that panorama that opens up sheer below our feet, finally clear of clouds, which literally leaves you speechless. And the enchantment is palpable. It is renewed every time and every time it is different.
There, leaving time for the wonder to have an effect on everyone is a must. At some point you see them close their mouths, take a deep breath and smile.
Then you understand that they are ready and that from then on all the extra time you leave is just a gift that depends solely on how late you are on the schedule.
A few more moments and we cross the hill taking the path that descends quickly through another beech forest. After a break in the shadow of the secular beech tree, next to which an old sheepfold in lava stone still resists, we resume the descent that takes us back to the car between a photo and a laugh. Tired, yes, but with happy eyes.
“You are a really nice group, it was a pleasure to share these incredible 9 kilometers with you”
And I really think so.
Luca nods.
We say goodbye. Other faces to keep in the increasingly numerous memories that Etna enjoys forging.
The experience is over but inside of me I am already reviewing the path to redo it as soon as possible with Ludovico. But this is another fresh, fresh adventure that I want to tell you separately.
