On track again, in more ways than one!

Another day, another post (the way it should be, right? normal service is resumed - until the next obstacle at least!).

After dinner last night we all sat around a map and a walking book of Tuscany to decide on a plan for today. The weather forecast looked as good today as it was going to be all week, so we decided we should try to do a bit of walking somewhere.

Jill had been studiously poring over the books and maps of the area not only since arriving here but also prior to leaving the UK, so she already had some ideas in mind and we quickly settled on a trip over to the Alpi Apuane (Apuan Alps), north of Pisa. These are a fairly small range of mountains that lie between the coast and the Apennines slightly further inland. Although they only reach heights of around 1800 metres, their appearance would have you believe that they are much higher: whereas the Apennines are greener and softer looking, the Apuan Alps are sharp and jagged looking, and from a distance they even look as if they have permanent snow cover - however, this is an illusion created by their white marble outcrops and the extensive quarrying of marble.

We therefore rose fairly promptly this morning - Helen did a shortened version of her usual exercise routine, we sorted the geese out, then packed rucksacks with waterproofs and food and by 9.30am we were all ready to hop into the car (the rental car, I might add) and drive in the direction of the coast. We took a turn just after Lucca towards Genova, which takes you between the sea and the Alps up past Massa to Carrara - both names synonymous with the production of marble, Carrara in particular.

We turned off the Autostrada at Carrara, passed straight through the town and out the other side, heading inland and up the western side of the Alps to a small dead-end with a village called Colonnata - famous in these parts for the production of lardo, a cured meat made in by curing pork with various herbs and spices in large marble vats (more on that later). This small village was where our walk started, so we parked up just outside the main piazza and started our walk, following the initial instructions from the guide book until we picked up the familiar red and white stripes that mark most of the footpaths in the region.

Colonnata, looking into the Piazza.

Colonnata Piazza - with marble paving.

Colonnata.

Mike inspects an impressive monument to the marble quarry workers, with an actual marble quarry in the background.

The walk wasn't a long one, but it was quite steep and arduous in places. It was pretty much up hill all the way up to a ridge through acres and acres of chestnut woods. The floor was covered in ripe chestnuts, and we couldn't help but pick up and eat a few along the way (just like the locals!).

When we finally reached the ridge (at about 800 metres altitude) we were afforded spectacular views back down to the plains that seemed almost to dissolve into the sea, and the sea into the sky, such was the haziness today.

Between us and the plains rose enormous white quarries, where the rock was slowly being cut into enormous blocks and taken away. It was quite a sight, not to mention a testament to human ingenuity in being able to effectively dismantle a mountain from the top downwards, cut it into slabs then ship it off around the world to be cut further into shaped slabs and fitted into people's bathrooms and kitchens. This amazing achievement was somewhat tempered by the obvious scarring of the landscape and blatant plundering of the earth's resources in the name of economics. The low rumble of the machinery and beeping of the trucks was a constant sound track to the whole of our walk as well - it felt strange to be in such relative wilderness, yet with these constant man-made background sounds.

We turned left and walked a short way along the ridge. The track as far as here had been an obvious, man-made cobble-stoned affair (albeit a lumpy and steep one), now it turned much more in favour of soil and there before us was Verghetto, a tiny and now deserted hamlet perched on the ridge of the mountain. With the exception of the distant beeping of the quarry trucks it was very peaceful - we were the only people for miles around, and we sat down on what felt like the village green for lunch (which consisted largely of yesterday's left over pizza!).

After we'd eaten lunch, it was time to decide whether to turn back or add on an additional 50 minutes (according to the guide book) to climb up to a mountain pass for even more spectacular views. After a time check, we decided to give it a whirl and set off to gain more altitude. Since this path was no longer the one that had historically been used for trips to/from the village to/from church/market, it was considerably less well constructed and less well defined, and more like a trail through the bracken and gorse - although at least the incline was a little less severe.

After about half an hour we reached the pass to be greeted by a handful of goats and a wonderful view of slightly less tarnished Alps.

This would have been another good place to stop (especially if we had remembered to bring coffee with us), but we the fact that we hadn't brought coffee, combined with the fact that we were mindful of the need to get home in good time to put the animals to bed before dark, meant that we decided to turn around and start making our way back down.

The return was a bit of a trudge - not only is the downhill stretch hard on the knees and quads, but walking down inclines like that on surfaces like those means you have to watch every step you take - you can't afford to look up for fear of missing your footing. We were therefore all relived to reach the steel bridge that marked the final run into Colonnata.

Once back into the village, we decided we couldn't leave without trying some of its famous lardo. If you haven't tried it, you SHOULD! On the face of it, it might not sound great: it's basically pork fat. If you've eaten proscuito or parma ham, then imagine the fat part of that, made bigger, with just the tiniest streak of ham running along it. They build large marble (of course) tanks or vats, fill them with slabs of this fatty meat and pile in the salt and herbs to cure it. The end result is a velvety smooth melt-in-the-mouth slice of deliciousness. It's often served on a piece of toasted bread, rubbed with garlic, doused in extra virgin olive oil and sprinkled with salt - the lardo sitting on top of the hot bread goes warm, translucent and melts a little.

Anyway, the tiny village is full of little places curing their own lardo and selling it. Today though, we seemed to be the only tourists in town, so we wandered around and finally went into one of the little shops, asked to try the lardo and left with a 100g pack, 20-25 slices for €2.50!

By the time we'd done that, it was time to head home, so we piled into the car for the hour and a quarter drive back to Pietrabona.

On arriving home, Jill and Mike suggested that they treat us to dinner out this evening - that was an offer we certainly couldn't refuse! We therefore made a reservation at one of our favourite local restaurants, leaving us all enough time to wind down a bit before dinner.

Helen and I put the geese to bed in record time tonight - they seem to be learning that their house is a good place to go into, and don't really seem to mind being shepherded into it each evening (they are also starting to come out of it of their own accord each morning, which is progress!). Helen checked her work emails, then we each went for a quick shower and change so that we were ready for dinner by 7.15pm.

We all got back into the car and made the short journey to Ponte di Castelvecchio to the restaurant Da Carla. The place was quieter than we have ever seen it before, and we had the whole of an enormous dining room almost to ourselves all evening. We had a delicious meal (complete with the famous Sorana beans), and altogether a very lovely evening.

By the time we'd finished our meals, paid the bill and headed out of the restaurant, it was getting on for 10pm. We drove straight home, said our goodnights to Jill and Mike, and headed indoors to finish blogging and get ourselves to bed after a tiring but thoroughly enjoyable day.