Seven years ago today, we woke up with the sunrise in Rääma Bog.
The bog rosemary was
wearing white frosty coats, and the whole bog was covered in frost, including
the tent above our heads. It was my first day of unemployment, which we
celebrated with a short but memorable walk through the bog on Labour Day.
Seven years later, we're about to start a hike that's seven times longer. This time I'm not unemployed, but I did manage to turn five vacation days into ten days off. That's a pretty good deal.
As it turns out, wine hiking is an actual thing.
They say that 70% of people visiting Italy spend their trip on just 1% of the country's territory. Which makes the other 99% sound all the more interesting.
We have to change trains at Torino Lingotto, with 59 minutes to spare. We wander around, identify mallow and burclover, and casually spot a viper's bugloss (okay, I spot it). Even the grasses growing in the parking lot are kind of charming. Somewhere nearby, something is screaming its head off. We find a hole in the fence around a football pitch. Poplar fluff has wrapped itself around the poppies.
After some quality time hanging around on the platform, our next train finally arrives. The dandelions have already swapped their yellow dresses for white hats. Then it gets dark.
It takes us a little while to find our apartment in Asti, but it's a lovely place. We end the day with dinner at a restaurant where the light bulbs are tucked inside old tennis rackets.
Seven years later, we're about to start a hike that's seven times longer. This time I'm not unemployed, but I did manage to turn five vacation days into ten days off. That's a pretty good deal.
As it turns out, wine hiking is an actual thing.
They say that 70% of people visiting Italy spend their trip on just 1% of the country's territory. Which makes the other 99% sound all the more interesting.
We have to change trains at Torino Lingotto, with 59 minutes to spare. We wander around, identify mallow and burclover, and casually spot a viper's bugloss (okay, I spot it). Even the grasses growing in the parking lot are kind of charming. Somewhere nearby, something is screaming its head off. We find a hole in the fence around a football pitch. Poplar fluff has wrapped itself around the poppies.
After some quality time hanging around on the platform, our next train finally arrives. The dandelions have already swapped their yellow dresses for white hats. Then it gets dark.
It takes us a little while to find our apartment in Asti, but it's a lovely place. We end the day with dinner at a restaurant where the light bulbs are tucked inside old tennis rackets.
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