Julkaistu: 17.10.2020
Freshly strengthened but significantly poorer, I started the next day. The upcoming two stages were supposed to be a bit shorter with another night in the open in between. So I took it easy. With some effort, I eventually reached the next mountain pass, and from there it should only be a few kilometers downhill on a paved road. So by noon, the day was almost done. I was completely relaxed. Until suddenly my brain switched into panic mode.
Because where the hell was my ID card? As is customary in Italy, I had given it to my host last night. But this morning, he had apparently forgotten to give it back to me. And stupidly, I hadn't thought about it either. So what now? Going back was not an option, I would lose a whole day and would probably have to declare personal bankruptcy after a second dinner in the only restaurant there. My first idea was to have my ID sent to a future accommodation, but even then I would lose a lot of flexibility. So, I thought, let's start by calling the landlord. We discussed some options within the limits of his fractured English, he asked where I currently am, and wanted to discuss everything further with his wife first. Meanwhile, I continued cycling to Cabanne, a small hamlet, and contacted the landlord from there again. He actually suggested that he could come by with my ID. Wow, that was a distance of 50 kilometers and an hour's drive for him. So I waited in the local bar, and indeed, after an hour and a half, he arrived, waving my ID happily. I was full of gratitude that he selflessly helped me out of this dire situation. So, I could continue.
After the previous beautiful sunny days, the weather was once again about to change. Precipitation would still hold off, but it became gray-dull and more autumnal. Not far behind Cabanne, I found a good camping spot in the woods, but in the dreary black and white, the mood for this presumably last night of wild camping was rather depressing.
The next morning, I was able to embrace the autumn atmosphere a little better. First, I went through dense undergrowth to a witch's house hidden in a veil of mist, and from there on forest paths through a leafy forest full of chestnuts and brightly red mushrooms. I no longer felt like I was in Liguria at all, but rather as if I had been beamed to the Palatinate Forest. Passing countless mushroom pickers armed with huge baskets and groups of hunters dressed in camouflage, I finally reached my destination for the day, the sleepy little mountain village of Santa Maria del Taro.
The holy trinity of grocery store, bar, and B&B was fortunately given, because a nasty rainy day was announced, so I should make myself comfortable here now. And that worked out exceptionally well because my accommodation was one of the best on my entire trip - a fully furnished and fully equipped apartment in the annex of a farmhouse. Totally rustic, with a wood stove and even a fast Wi-Fi connection. Nicola, the very friendly owner, also served an amazing breakfast with local products such as homemade cheese and fresh goat milk. So, a wet and cold autumn day could be spent perfectly here. I had found my perfect little hideaway in the heart of the Ligurian mountains.