Spring trekking in God Pan’s mountain

It’s already Friday (or FriYAY!), the end of a pretty busy week and it feels like ages since I last wrote something in here… This week has been crazy and I had to dig out all my multitasking skills to make it through. But, see? I’ve managed!  And as “better late than never” is a totally acceptable motto in such super busy days, now it’s the time to sit down and share with you the family trekking we did last Sunday.

As I might have told you before (or not, I’m not sure…) Mr. BeardMan is an avid mountain climber and a super fan of long hard trekkings. He never seizes to find chances to go away during weekends for mountain-top crossings and each summer he travels somewhere in this universe, where he spends fortnights (at least!) climbing to heights that sometimes reach six thousand meters. You see what a matching couple we are? My happy place is my armchair, hook on my hand and coffee nearby, his happy place is the Everest base camp!

I have to admit that when we first met, you know, the first years of being in a new relationship, young, carefree, with no kids, I have joined him in some trekkings, other easy, other more challenging. But as much young and restless effort as I’ve put, in the end I admitted to myself and to him of course, that…well, this kind of physical activity is not exactly my cup of tea. So, he went on doing it and I started crocheting. But, once or twice every year, when the time is right and his mountain team organizes something family friendly and easy, I put the hooks aside and together with the Little Misses of the pond, we join him to spend a day walking on the mountains.

This last Sunday was one of those days. We woke up early, even earlier than we normally would, as it was the first day of the Daylight Saving Time (oh my) and we all set off to Mainalon, the beautiful mountain of Arcadia. Mainalon mountain, the place of ancient god Pan and his muses according to Greek mythology, a place also famous by the painting of Nicolas Poussin, held in the Louvre museum, in Paris. This painting is called Et in Arcadia ego (also known as The Arcadian Shepherds) and was painted in 1637,  a pastoral scene with shepherds from classical antiquity around a tomb. The tomb has the inscription ET IN ARCADIA EGO, which the art historics have translated as “And I [= death] too (am) in Arcadia”, meaning that death is always present, even in such a fabulous place. [end of art history lesson]

We arrived at our starting point early enough, put on our brand new trekking shoes, backpacks on our shoulders, walking sticks and off we went.

The landscape was magical, Nicolas Poussin wasn’t wrong. All around us, small rivers and streamlets with their gurgling sound, birds flying above our heads, a bright spring day.

Stops were scarce, because the whole team was quite big and following different paces, so when the last people arrived to the stop place (you may count me in such slow last people..) the first who have arrived were ready to go again, poor me! But at least I had the few minutes needed to prepare a cold coffee and carry it with me during the walk.

Little Miss no 2 and I had made an agreement. That none of us (the usual suspects) would grumble, natter, grouch or whatever other word you can find to describe this feeling, no matter what. And to my great pride, she honoured the agreement. Though at some points she was obviously tired and even a tad desperate, she held on tight. Well, some candy and small chocolate bars that I’ve secretly carried in my backpack exactly for such moments, helped a bit!

At the point when my pace has started becoming obviously slow, I remained at the end of the team and little Miss 2 flew off with Mr. BeardMan; it was few moments later that I lost sight of them. Little Miss no 1, a pure child of her dad, was nowhere to be seen right from the beginning, walking quickly with the fastest members of the team, running back to check how we are doing and then flying foward again.

I was carrying my mobile phone to take some pics, but as I had no pockets, I hardly took it off my backpack during the walk. So I’ve just managed to take the ones that I’m showing you here, but they cannot reflect the beauty that we’ve experienced, the magical spring nature surrounding us and the clear sky and the smell of pine trees and flowers.

The trekking lasted six and a half hours (small breaks included) and by the end of it, I’ve started thinking that ok, that’s enough. Oh, the great relief of taking off your trekking shoes (which by the way were new and have given me two shiny bright huge blisters!) and sitting on a nice local restaurant to have a late lunch. Bliss.

We arrived back home a bit before midnight, really tired but happy. And that’s how the new week has began. No crochet stories this time, my multitasking hasn’t reached this ability! Well, I have done quite some progress in my green shawl, but not without too much frogging again and again, so much that for once I thought to give up and start something else. But as a mature adult (ha ha!) I realised that when I’m exhausted from a cruel week, even my favourite hobby stays behind. Never mind, I’ll make up for it soon!

Froggy kisses from the pond

xxx