( or Drystone Walling and the Dolomites )
The Importance of Knowing Where One’s Towel Is
Day 10. 30 June 2006
Friday. Last night, at an hour past midnight I discovered that my towel was missing. Previously hung out to dry on the rails outside the window it is not to found there anymore. I check to see if I left it in the bathroom; in the living area; from each of my four windows. There is no sign.
I sleep well in cooler temperatures, waking only briefly around six o’clock when everyone goes to the toilet. It is then the seven o’clock bells that wake me as the sun and view comes in through the shutters. Raising them up I spy my towel cast down by the wind in the driveway 10 metres away.
By eight-thirty Kate is ringing the (bicycle) bell for the off, and the drive round the valley to Chies d’Alpago to continue our steps. With the logs stripped tow days ago by John, Sarah-Jane and myself, Kate swaaps the groups around and we work on the steeper, higher sections of the path. It’s slow work with our second step – a potentially useful stump actually proves useless as a stob and in the end we require four stobs to the one step…
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