A 36-degree temperature difference in Summer

FROM THE SCORCHING HEAT OF THE ANCIENT ITALIAN OLIVE GROVES TO THE COOLING SWISS ALPINE MEADOWS

Whether we wanted to or not, it was “time for something different”.

This year as well, we weren’t going to travel the way we used to. But we did get the chance to travel, which was a big step forward from last year’s covid lockdowns – which bound us all to our homes. There were more possibilities, this year. Limited, though. But still... they were there.

Limited because of our time management, since both Liene and I had planned assignments throughout the summer. Much-needed assignments, to recover from the financial covid hangover. Having to store our big travel plans for a year or two wasn’t that big of a deal either. One our most important principles we try to live by is being flexible – in any way possible.

No month of wandering around the European continent and going with the flow. No. This time we’d choose two fixed points and explore the nearby area. But I’m the worst planner – mind you: professionally I’m the best planner around, but when it comes to my private life, I hate planning and I just want to see what the day brings and go wherever the wind takes me. Since I blindly trust my better half, I also trusted upon her to plan this trip. Being the flexible man I am. 🙃!

This year wouldn’t turn out the way I would’ve liked: wandering without purpose in the North. Liene was taking things in a different direction. We would head to the warmer South and play the part of sedentary tourist in Italy. I already braced myself by the idea of busy, hot Italian cities with herds of tourists following the beaten path, from one tourist attraction to the next.

Luckily, my Liene shared that idea and went looking for that one forgotten spot in Italy where time stood still. Two weeks in scorching Italy felt a bit too much, so to balance things out, we booked a lonely cabin high up the Swiss Alps. No commodities, no electricity and a wood stove for cooking... But we’ll get to that later on! First, we head to the Italian Apennines.

BELLA ITALIA

Thinking of Italy, different images come to mind.

The first ones are of our family trip to Sicily. The first encounter with the Italian way of living. Driving a “Jetfoil”, the capital of Palermo and a local photographer who portrayed us. Those portraits still hang in my dad’s office. Unfortunately, it was also my first encounter with the sting of a jellyfish, crowded hotels, hot beaches...

Other memories come from the history classes in which we learned about the rich and dominant Roman culture. I devoured these classes and was often left behind hungry for more. I remember having to study, bound to my bedroom, but reaching for history books to pass time. The fact I had a math or German exam the day after, didn’t matter. Although I would discover I should’ve tried harder for that German exam, later on this trip.

And of course, I also remember the yearly Instagram pics of people renting a villa in Tuscany or Umbria to tan at the pool, changing things up with a bit of culture, a snapshot of a good bottle of wine and a local restaurant. The same shots they take at home, but with a slightly different sauce.

Not really the way I like it. I felt skeptical, but – like I said – I would be flexible.

After a short stay in Switzerland at a very friendly lady’s, we travelled through the Gothard tunnel. I would’ve preferred to drive across the pass, but the yet to travel distance didn’t allow us to. Liene had split the distance into two equal parts. The first day we’d drive eight hours until our stay in Switzerland. We left Wednesday, right after school, and arrived at Altdorf, Switzerland at 21:30, for an overnight stop.

The second leg of the drive didn’t go that smooth. Once we came out the Gothard tunnel, temperatures rose in no time from 16 to 36 degrees and our average speed dropped exponentially due to the many road works. It turned out to be a long and boring 650 kilometers from Milan to our final destination, just above Rome.

We did pass beautiful historical cities like Florence, Bologna, Sienna... Those history lessons flashed through my mind, but I kept my focus on the region of Sabina.
The landscape transformed from mountainous Milan into the wide stretched plains of Bologna, and into the rolling hills of Florence. And so, we rolled across the Italian landscape towards Rome.

Our exit turned about 80 kilometers from Rome straight into the Apennines. The highway changed from a smooth wave to a swinging rollercoaster – battling the steep hills, only to descend quickly into the valley, ready to climb the next peak. A landscape we hadn’t seen often before. Beautiful!

“Le Mole Sul Farfa”

After swinging back and forth for about an hour, driving narrow roads, we arrived at our first destination: Agriturismo “Mole Sul Farfa” in the region of Sabina. A region – we would soon discover – which had stayed fairly pure. There were traces of tourism, but nothing more than hikers, and mostly during spring and fall. The GR trails were too hot to walk during summer months. Although there are always exceptions, we found 35 degrees too hot to go day-hiking.

The Agriturismo “Mole Sul Farfa” was an exceptionally charming place, which could only be reached by a small path, whimsically curling up and down for one kilometer from the road. “Mole Sul Farfa” literally means “Mill at the river Farfa”. That river was located a couple of hundred meters down, and was accompanied by the ruins of an old (olive) mill and what was left of a medieval bridge. A sight for sore eyes we would often wonderingly gaze upon while dipping our feet in the ice-cold river.

The Agriturismo itself was paradise on earth. It looked seemingly careless, but owners Stefano and Elisabeth ran the place with an eye for detail.
Wild flowers, trees and bushes everywhere, lusciously growing along the mountainside in a long-stretched garden. At the end of the garden, far enough from the house to not be disturbed from any peace and quiet, lay the pool.

Spread across the garden, there were characterful benches and tables, offering the opportunity to have a peaceful meal, a chat, to read or to fall asleep – overlooking the stunning view of the valley. The olive trees and the ever-present breeze made for some

much-needed cool in this searing heat. The philharmonic orchestra of crickets delivered their well-known symphony: deafening once you pay attention, a soft lullaby when you’re falling asleep.
No worries about oversleeping, though. The eleven donkeys surrounding the terrain kept a steady pace and would wake you up on set times, thanks to the bells around their necks. The sound of those bells would follow us for the remainder of this trip. Anyway...

Those donkeys weren’t there just for fun. They kept a wide perimeter of grassland short around the house. Donkeys and goats – in contrast to cows – eat all vegetation. The consequence being a tightly mowed meadow. Something you wouldn’t notice sitting in the garden, but walking towards the river you’d notice the donkeys’ territory.

The main reason for this was keeping the house safe from forest fires. No vegetation equals no fuel for the fire. A couple years ago there’d been a big fire and all hands were needed to keep the flames away from the house. The donkeys have been ringing their bells and grazing to prevent any such scenario ever since. An all-natural way of fire prevention.

Back to the inspirers of all this: Stefano and Elisabeth. An Italian-Flemish couple which met thanks to their shared passion and built their life on just that. They had a clear vision of the way they wanted to go with their life, children, the Agriturismo... Something we deeply appreciate in them. The more uniqueness, the better.
Elisabeth prepares artisan meals with nothing but love. And although a vegetarian cuisine doesn’t match with my vision on an upbringing, I can’t deny that all things artisan were prepared with delicious natural products. An exception, from time to time, never hurt anyone. Being flexible, you know. ;-)
We enjoyed every meal to the most. During preparations you’d often see Elisabeth run back and forth to the garden to get some more ingredients. The purest a kitchen can be!

Stefano struck me as an atypical Italian. At least not a stereotypical Italian. I don’t know all too much Italians, but he didn’t fit my typical view of them. Always walking around in long trousers, a shirt and a hat, while we struggled to keep a t-shirt on. “I don’t like the sun and the insects,” was his answer, when asked about his outfit. Standing the heat was no problem, it seemed.

With a lot of care, he maintained the plants in the garden. Something typically Italian he did have, was passion. Passion while talking, passion in his eyes, passion in his hand gestures. But his real passion came through in two side-projects.

On the one hand, he was busy developing and maintaining hiking trails in the area. Something essential if you frequently have visitors over, but not all too obvious in this heat. You don’t do stuff like this if you lack a passion for hiking.
But the big “project in the project” was “Villa Romana”. I’ll try to keep the description to a minimum length, but please do check it out on site – accompanied by Stefano and his passionate and well-founded explanation.

Villa Romana

The Villa Romana can be found on a piece of land the couple bought about 16 years ago. Except from a cave and some olive trees, the site was almost empty at the time. All that was left, was an old shepherd’s shack built on the remains of some ruin. That’s where Stefano and Elisabeth stayed during the renovations of the Agriturismo, a couple of kilometers away.

The cave turned out to be perfectly shaped and consisted mostly out of bricked structures. To better understand those structures, they hired an archeologist. From there on, findings would follow each other quickly. The cave had been part of an old water plant and storage facility. The flat surface on top of the hill didn’t seem natural. Nowhere near in this steep and fickle landscape could be found a hill with a similar surface. It had to be artificial. With drones and land meters they found out the surface was the foundation of a huge Roman villa – with a surface of 1 hectare and multiple stories. Being a history-lover, I only had to close my eyes to imagine the ancient building.

Of course, time hadn’t been kind to such a building. Stones were taken by locals to build other structures. But there were still stones and shapes that gave an idea of the grandeur of the Roman building.

However, the biggest surprise wasn’t found above ground, but underneath. Below the house, a set of small passages was found – all clogged up with sand and stone. With the help of some volunteers, they gradually exposed the entire underground structure. One room after another was uncovered – giving up the secrets of the site, one step at a time.

At the same time, above the ground, they were researching the age of the olive trees. After different research methods, a C14 or carbon dating showed the trees were at least 1.000 years old. Using the same method, they uncovered the exact date on which the villa was conquered and set on fire.

I’m not going to spill everything, or I’ll spoil too many secrets and surprises which were so carefully constructed in Stefano’s story on the site. But his tour left me with a completely different feeling on the plateau against the steep hill.
Walking around during nightfall, the sun shining low over the mountains and through the olive trees, the grass softly prickling the eyes... When we reached the top of the hill in the olive grove and overlooked the valley, I really grasped the value of this spot.

Here as well, a soft breeze making the heat more bearable blew across the landscape. The view over the mountains and surrounding valleys was both beautiful and strategic. Those Romans never built without thinking things through. As for the olive trees, I never stood aside something that old in my life and put my hand on it. How many endless seasons had they lived? Forest fires, lovers laying against their trunks... Like rocks standing the test of time. I can only compare the feeling to the one we had overlooking the mountains, later on in Switzerland. A feeling of admiration and insignificance.

What struck me as especially beautiful was the fact all of this was built with their own means, and slow and steady research and expansion. Without turning it into a tourist hotspot. There’re a lot of sites going bigger with a lot less. The minimalist approach of this spectacular site is to be respected!

And so, our days steadily floated by. Underneath the scorching heat of the sun, our kids played with others along the pool. We discovered the stunning local nature, and Stefano and Elisabeth’s daughter (10) guided us into the “Enchanted Moss” forest and to the best swimming spots in that ice cold river!

We visited villages and many hilltops, where time stood still. Where people looked at us, as if we came from another planet. We were amazed by churches and abbeys at beautiful locations – filled with wonderful art. Our girls discovered the river by horse. We played boardgames, and ate pizza and pasta until we could no more. We saw the deserved win of the Scuddera Azzuri over our Belgian Red Devils.

Until we grew tired of it all. We’re wanderers and freebooters, who can’t stay in one place too long. No matter how amazing that place is. I hold dear to the idea of leaving somewhere before you grow tired of it, before you have seen it all. It’s a way of keeping all memories happy and leaving hungry to return. Also, having to depend on others for so many things, made it hard for me to stay here.

Breakfast, organised activities (something I’m theoretically allergic to), having to go to a restaurant to eat, and not knowing where to find refuge from the heat. It started to eat me up. And I don’t mean any disrespect to our hosts, who went out of their way to make our stay as comfortable as possible. Something they very well succeeded in. No, it’s just the way I am. The way we are.

When we’re on vacation, we want to disconnect from our lives filled with people, planning, structures, and appointments. We want to go with the flow, let the wind take us anywhere it wants, or go off the beaten path. After being flexible for six days, I needed a change. Even the kids were tired of hanging by the pool.

My internal thermostat had reached its limits as well. Time to head into the cool mountain air! Which matched perfectly with our plans, because we would leave for Switzerland the very next day.

Im Schweiz!

With a short, but very pleasant, stop at friends in Tuscany, we made way for Switzerland. Sometimes you only live 20 kilometers apart, but the only moment you’re able to meet is at 1.500 kilometers from home. Anyway. It was nice to chat leisurely while our kids took over the pool.
Our way out of Italy broke all heat records: 42 degrees, and the air-conditioning broke down in the heat a couple of times. But nearby Milan we were welcomed with the most enjoyable rain shower. It was still 30 degrees, but the rain felt deliciously refreshing. If we would’ve been stuck in a traffic jam, I would’ve performed a joyful rain dance in my birth suit, in the middle of the highway. Luckily there were no traffic jams...

Back through the Gothard tunnel, and we found ourselves zigzagging Swiss valleys, lakes, villages and cities. Until the GPS told us to turn right. Bye wide highways. We kept driving up, but the roads grew steeper and narrower. We passed ski stations and headed into a small village to pick up permission to head further into the mountains. Our cabin was located at an altitude of 1.650 meters. The last 10 kilometers weren’t publicly accessible. Only locals and those in possession of that piece of paper we just got our hand on, were allowed to go there.

Steep, steeper, steepest. We swiftly climbed from 900 meters to 1.650. Steep hairpin bends I could overcome by turning my long truck just once, deep abyss, oncoming traffic, backing up again into passing spots, and majestic views. I already had gotten my share of mountain rides, but this one comes in close second. (The 180 degree-turn on a mountain path with an abyss of 400 meters on my right in Norway comes in first.)

All this looked promising and our expectations were already exceeded. The last kilometers we passed alpine meadow after alpine meadow, and we had to chase cows away from the road. Until the road stopped. About twenty cows stood there, staring at us. Our cabin was still 80 meters higher up the mountain.

Eighty more meters in a straight line isn’t that hard to overcome. But climbing eighty meters, that’s something else. This required an effort. Instead of unloading all our gear, we only took the essentials with us. We hiked through the rain, by the cows, and with a lickerish jump over the river we headed to our shack. Before entering the cabin, I turned around and noticed we were surrounded by mountaintops – some even covered in snow.
I already felt as happy as a kid.

The cabin itself was of the kind where time had halted. All necessary utilities were present. Figuring out how everything worked, did take some time, though. The cooking had to be done on a woodstove, the living room had to be heated with an a-class tiled stove.

Once you were cooking, you could send that heat through tubes towards a tiled bench in the living room as well. Last, there was a hot water boiler, but it needed to be heated using the wood stove beneath. I was happy. I love having to take care of utilities in such a primitive way. It did take me about an hour to understand the workings of everything, though. All I could rely on, was the compact manual in German the owners had left us. Once I had everything figured out and heated, my three women were happy as well.🙃

The weather wasn’t as nice as at our previous destinations, and temperatures were about 20 degrees less. That alone made me happy. I’m not the kind of person who likes blue skies every day. It gets boring after a while. I like my occasional cloud and less sun-soaked days. This creates a lovely vibe, especially up in the mountains.
The weather varied throughout the day: sun, fog, clouds, and a bit of rain from time to time. Staying in, heading out, climbing the mountain, back inside. It’s lovely to follow the rhythm and capriciousness of the weather. Life steadily flowed by in this place. 🙃

Everything is an activity here, as well. Making coffee is lighting a fire. So is taking a shower. Lighting a fire is looking for wood and dry pine cones to get the fire started. If you’d finished cooking, you’d put a big kettle with hot water on the fire. By the time you had finished dinner, you’d have warm water to do the dishes.

There wasn’t any electricity either. There was a solar panel which charged a battery, connected to some led lamps. But apart from that, there were no electrical appliances present. We found an extra solar panel in the barn. With a car charger you could hook up your phone or other stuff. When the batteries of my drone and camera were empty, I hooked those up and put the lot out in the stun. That was just the way it had to go.

It takes some time to adjust to this way of living, but after the first two days you’re used to the routine and it doesn’t feel like an effort anymore. Even more: it made me intensely happy, everything got a lot simpler. I have the tendency to lose myself in bringing photo equipment and other stuff. Something which bettered during the last couple of years, since it doesn’t contribute to finding peace while on vacation. I only brought three little cameras. The Sony RX100 VII, with which I photographed everything, my drone and a DJI Mini and DJI Pocket to film everything. And an iPad. So there wasn’t much to charge either. And since Switzerland isn’t the best country to keep your phone’s data roaming on, I had turned that one off at the border. A week without internet – I didn’t miss it.

What I loved about this cabin as well, was the fact that it didn’t feel as a standard vacation home either. Noticing the organisation, the supplies, the equipment in the barn, and the available means, you just knew the owners didn’t live here much. The guestbook gave away the lack of many visitors. They came only once or twice – maximum three times – a year, for just a week. I suspect the owners headed up here a lot themselves, to spend their weekends. And right they are.

In the meantime, our kids had caught an ear infection at the end of our trip in Italy. Either because of the air-conditioning in the car or because of hanging by the pool too much. A short drive to the nearest store in the valley turned out to be a bit of an adventure. And then we still had to hope to run into a pharmacy. I asked three old gaffers on a terrace where to find one – trying to speak the best German I could think of. An elaborate explanation followed, accompanied by a lot of nodding. I understood nothing, but I could make out there had to be at least one pharmacy in the village. We would find it.

Juicy, though, that Swiss-German.

We spent our days by letting time float by, reading, playing games with the kids, hiking, resting... I could easily stare out of the window or sit on the porch and overlook the surrounding mountains for hours. The valley on my right, nothing but mountains on my left, in front of me and behind. A view I will never grow tired of. The view changes every hour as well: the way the light falls, fog, clouds cuddling the mountaintops, only to make way for blue skies. I also noticed Liene and I enjoyed this setting in completely different ways. I was amazed by the enormousness of the mountains, the view, and the insignificance of the little houses and people in contract to the ancient giants. While Liene almost snuffled through the grass to discover the very local flora.

She would suddenly dive into the grass during a walk, just because she spotted another stunning alpine flower. I’ll never forget the joy in her eyes and cry of excitement when we reached mountaintops overflown by beautifully colored flowers. The same goes for the kids, by the way. When we returned from a hike, they would instantly dive into the flora and fauna books - which were plenty in the cabin – to look up which flowers they had spotted. Without picking them, admittedly.

Liene loved the birds too. All kinds of birds flew around our cabin, at any given time. Not bothered by the games we were playing or which interesting talk I was giving: every time a flying furball passed by, Liene’s eyes widened, she raised her finger and she whispered: “Ssht, look!”. Only to pick up the binoculars and observe the animals. Something she does at home as well. Lovely to watch!

During our hikes, we also saw mountain marmots – suspiciously at ease in our presence. Only when we came too close, they screeched to warn others and disappeared in their underground caves. We spotted a chamois, once. Passing our cabin on the hill, only 20 meters away. Carefully treading forward, listening, taking a few more steps, and then skittishly running away. We couldn’t take our eyes of her, holding our breath... Beautiful!

Furthermore, we woke up and went to sleep every day with the sound of cowbells. Far away, and in large numbers. Sometimes it sounded like the river we had to cross to get to the cabin: a rippling and ringing continuous sound. Soothing and comforting.

It had been years since I last visited Switzerland. Since the hiking holidays with my parents. But my love for the country was re-awakened in a split second. Such an amazing nature, such an unaltered environment... All thanks to my Liene, who did excellent
research to make this experience as pure and as unique as possible. This was one of the most beautiful spots to stay. When we left on a rainy Wednesday morning, it was 5 degrees. A 36-degree difference with the week before. All good.

It was a diverse vacation. A bit of a compromise. Italy was one for the kids, and Liene who for once didn’t feel like cooking. Also, it was the first time we had that kind of a holiday. I do want to return to Italy, but preferably in a season that’s less hot and with a bit more freedom.

As for Switzerland? I want to go there every season. I’ve locked it deep in my heart.

Gear: Sony RX100 MVII - DJI Mavic Mini - DJI Pocket