One day, while I was staying in Lucca, Italy, I decided to go to Barga. It was a short trip by train to the Barga station but how to get to the town, high above, became the mystery. I was told there were no taxis and even though there were buses, no one I asked could tell when one might arrive. So I did the logical thing, I walked. I couldn’t see my destination and had no clear idea how far it was. The road rose steadily until it became a switchback through a forest, with no place to walk but the edge of the narrow pavement. Surprised drivers managed to avoid me as they sped past and I eventually arrived at the new part of town, which sits at the feet of the old.
I stopped first for lunch, then continued on. After crossing a bridge with a great view of the old buildings, I entered a wholly different place, one of narrow alleys & tunnels, staircases for streets and hardly a soul in sight. I generally try to omit tourists from my pictures but, surprisingly, there were almost none to omit. Early afternoon, I suppose most of the residents were at home. It was a very pleasant feeling and I climbed to the very top, crowned by the local church, before finding my way down again. After a couple of hours, back again in the newer part of town, I was directed to a bar where I was given a bus schedule. Almost immediately one came along, dropped me at the station, and I was on my way back to Lucca.
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It feels like a wonderful day’s ramble…for me!…as I look at your pictures of details, of small spaces, of textures…and food!
It was an excellent day, especially after I got up that steep road. Also because my traveling companion opted not to come along. She’d have hated me for that climb but has since found another reason for deciding I’m more trouble than I’m worth.