– bright with summer. Farmland turns to forest and the walk notes
take us alongside a river. The river warbles, cuckoos call (the same sound as my grandma's cuckoo clock), misty warm rain falls and we walk on, losing track of time and kilometres. I'm tired, but not unpleasantly so. The sun breaks through just before we
climb a steep zigzagging path to the hilltop Mesma Convent. There are chapels along the way, 12 of them, each with a fresco depicting Jesus' journey, shouldering his cross, to the top of Calvary. It's a long, hot, steamy climb for us and at each of the 12 stations we feel progressively sorrier for poor Jesus. When he finally got to the top of Calvary he was crucified. We drink fresh water gushing from a stone lion's mouth, rest on a seat surrounded by flowering rosemary and eat chocolate, dates and almonds that we packed for such moments. It's mostly down hill from here, back to
Lake Orta –12 kilometres done, four more to go. These last four are the hardest. When we
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