Buzzing mobile phones, steered by logarithms dictated by emperors that tear society apart were left behind. There are still ‘quiet’ places where insects tell other news. Those that survived the pest of ecocidal chemicals.
Web
catch
A heathy landscape harbors spiders / catching pollen-spreading bees.
Organic
Bark
The bark was fissured / a voice lamented /
blown apart,
yet unheard amidst / the turmoil, basic /
at an organic / glorification.
(photos and texts by Drager Meurtant, September 12-13, 2025)
In the summer of 2010 we made plan to hike in ‘greatest and wildest natural mountain park of Western Europe’.
By train arriving in Milano end of August 2010, the two of us checked in at Hotel Berna and had one day to explore the city.
Milano Cathedralwaiting for connection (Arona)
The third day a train took us to Premosello, and we hitch-hiked to Colloro. From there we walked to camp at alm of Chapella Madonna di Lut.
There the sole of one shoe turned out to be completely broken. We had to return and then take train to Domodossola to buy new shoes. Next attempt started in Mergozzo and we walked via Bracchio, towards Vercio with Sanctuaria Di Madonna de Grazio (camp). A lady very early in the morning sang for hours.
L’Oratorio della Beata Vergine delle Grazie
From there a long walk in beautiful mountain area and forest followed. On the way we passed many abandoned houses, alone on itself or in small group.
Forest and mountains in Parco Nazionale de Val GrandeAlong the way, house of farmer
Our path continued via Cortecca to Alpa Ompio, from there north to Alpe Basseno then down to bridge “Ponte di Velina” crossing ravine with river, and further north to Velina and Baserga. A sign indicated that in 1944 partisans escaped from nazis with 50 prisoners at an enduring trek through these mountains.
Baserga, hide-out for partisans in WW-II (if memory is right…)
Route went further N. East to Baserga (signs indicating risky passage), Alpe Vota, Montazzo, a overgrown abandoned hamlock. The path became stairs and had steep crossings of rivulets.
note the sign…
Along the way we did encounter several abandoned houses in the woods.
someone created stone creatures…
At sundown and over 14 hours on the way we arrived at Corte de Merino, where we could set up the tent and have simple dinner.
In the morning the trail went to Cicogna, then followed sentiero Struttenheim (1891) towards Pogallo, where we had camp along the Rio Pogallo.
Rock cairn or stone man
Return was to Cigogna with several steep mountain clefts.
A mountain cleft of hundreds of feet…A river deep down
Then we went all the paved way to Rovegro (no hitch hike available), a village that looked like poverty ruled. There old roman way did lead us to Cossogno, after passing the “Ponte Romano di Cossogno e Cascate”.
Ancient houses
In this village citizens allowed us to camp on small terrace of the Campo de Sport for our last night in the mountains…
Camp in Cossogno
From Cossogno we hiked to Verbania where we took ferry across the Lago Maggiore to Baveno and boarded train to Milano.
On the ferry towards Baveno
Photos by Drager Meurtant 2010, analog film, taken with Chinon compact camera and Fuji film
As indicated in previous post (December 11, 2021), my journey in Greece from Dimitsana onward continued as hike mostly on feet, with myself as only company. An imprecise map helped me define Adritsaina as next ‘goal’, and I had the sun, time and a compass as lead. The Arcadian hills grown with small greek oak trees were hot and dry. The day passed without meeting any bipeds, and only a greek turtle crossed my path.
Mountains in ArcadiaGreek tortoise (Testudo graeca) encounter underway
After mid-day, I had to take care not to get over-heated, but some rivers provided refreshment at times.
In hammock of Bardaki (Μπαρδάκι) I was invited – when filling water bottle at local pump – to have retsina and tomato salad in plenty olive oil on the veranda. The hospitable folks advised a cool moment at nearby river Alfeios.
Bardaki (Μπαρδάκι) houses (1)Bardaki (Μπαρδάκι), the house with veranda
After passing through Andritsaina, and after following a small path through the hills, I came close to a temple with just a few visitors. Some supportive structures had been raised, as an early step towards conservation. It is now an Unesco Monument, and restoration would start in 2001, with a tent (hood) placed over the temple remains. This Temple of Apollo Epicurius at Bassae of Phigaleia has been raised in 5th century BC. In retrospect, the photo is unique with respict to point-of-view.
Temple of Apollo Epicurius at Bassae of Phigaleia, 5th century BC.
At the end of the next day I came to a place, where several big rectangular boulder stones had been neatly arranged providing a plateau to camp. I had arrived at the ancient site of Lycosura (Λυκόσουρα) with the temple of Despoina. At the nearby village an elderly lady had the key to small historic museum, with some big antique statues, and a lot of dust. The entree did cost two drachmes.
Ancient Lykosura (Λυκόσουρα), temple of Despoina (1) Ancient Lykosura (Λυκόσουρα), temple of Despoina (2)
From there the trip continued on feet or by hitch hiking or bus, via Megalopolis to historic Argos, Mycene and coastal city of Nafplion. On the quay outside this city, several young people camped and took a swim in the sea, not bothering to put on cloths between dives. Several times during the day, a ripple of unrest traveled along this quay, when a police officer came to tell nudity would be punished.
View from port of Nafplion to Palamidi Castle (1978)
From Nafplion, a regular buss service brought tourists to ancient Mycene.
Castle of Mycene, with Agamemnon’s Palace in evening light, empty of touristsCastle of Agamemnon, Mycene, the Lion Gate
From Nafplion an easy walk along busy motorway brought me to ancient Argos, with its huge amphiteatre.
Ancient Argos amphitheatre
In the city of Argos, a funeral service was hindered by the defect of historic funeral coach.
Motor trouble of funeral coach (Argos, 1978)
Small garages are scattered all over Greece, like here near Nafplion.
By ferry a short visit was brought to Spetse, the island where the book “The Magus” by author John Fowles is situated. By taking some distance to the tourist crowds, – talking about 1978 – at almost all places something of rural Greece could be found. I walked a few miles from the port, and near the lighthouse I got permission from the guard to camp with my little tent, after having accepted the offer of a glass of ouzo and some fresh tomatoes.
Evening view from lighthouse to port of Spetse.
From Spetse another ferry brought me to Pireas and a bus to Athens, and that is where this story ends.
In July 1978 Jaap, a study pal and mountain hike companion, and I made a journey in Greece. We had trekked in several mountain regions since a few years. After arrival in Igoumenitsa by ferry from Brindisi (Italy), we hitchhiked south to Amfilochia in the back of an open truck.
On the road: blue house and honeysuckleRestaurant (Estiatorion) in AmfilochiaAn evening stroll along the promenade of Amfilochia
The next day brought us to Patras, a city with a history of thousands of years. Already inhabited in prehistoric times, it was an important centre in the Mycenean era. After one night camp there, we continued east to small coastal village of Diakofto.
Patras: fruit seller and Jaap posing for photo.
From Diakofto runs the “Odontotos Rack-railway” to Kalavrita. It was built between 1885-1895 and climbs steeply along a distance of 22 km. We followed a path besides and sometimes on the track, that rises in narrow cleft between steep rocks. At times a viper fled from being trapped on.
Ravin being part of Vourakos Gorge with rail track
In a small cafe in Kalavryta, we were met by suspicion and animosity, expressed by elderly woman rejecting to serve us greek coffee. A younger man could explain to her, we were not German but Dutch, and then the suspicion lessened. All this was related to the big massacre by the nazis in 1943, with over 300 men killed and many houses burned.
Walking further, we heard an one-pit motor and the same young man as mentioned above pointed to a nest with six eggs in the load of three wheeled pick-up motorcycle. This gift was followed by his offer to bring us to Anolousi.Butcher and his wife and slaughtered sheep in Anolousi
Ano Lousi lies on plateau at 1100 m altitude. From here we followed the road to Kata lousi with about as many cars or trucks passing as flocks of sheep.
Plateau with Ano LousiThe road from Ano Lousi to Kato LousiThe author walking from Ano Lousi to Kato Lousi (photo by Jaap)
Near the evening we arrived by foot in the small village of Kastria. We explained our whereabouts, to what appeared to be the village elder, and soon were invited to have a glass of ouzo with several most older men at a table. Later, we were invited to join a party planned to visit the cave that had been discovered nearby, a few years earlier, by a shepherd who had lost a sheep. The party would take ‘William’, a former villager who had emigrated to the USA twenty years earlier, and who had just returned for a visit, to the site, and us alongside.
The entrance of the Kastria Cave
No ticket counter of parking for busses, yet to be seen. We were able to enter the cave for about 300 m, with the guide using an old mining-lamp (Davy lamp) and then were stopped by lakes. Nowadays, walking bridges have been created to gain acces much deeper.
Along the road from Kastria to Langadia: shepherd with milk goats
We hiked further to Klitoria and then to Dafni. On the outskirts of the small village of Dafni, there were more than ten threshing circles. These may have been created two thousand years ago… and are located in areas where the wind blows.
Village of Dafni with many threshing circles.Mule and stake at threshing circle, still in operation.
From Dafni the path led to Langadia, on the busy and touristic road from Olympia to Tripoli. A steep climb to a street 100 m higher brought us back in more rural village atmosphere and we were offered small flat grass plateau for the tent.
Langadia sales man
From Langadia we walked to Dimitsana, about 10 km south. This mountain village at 1000 m height, played important role in Greep revolt against the Turkish occupants. To our great surprise, a Dutch couple arrived soon after we installed our camp outside this village. The surprise became even bigger when they turned out to be neighbours of Jaap. No previous talk about respective travels had been made. The encounter was a pure coincidence…
Historic mountain village of Dimitsana, in 1978
The next day, our path did split, with – Jaap heading for Athens to meet family, and I continued my path alone. This will be part of 2nd blog.
Today was different: it started grey and fairly cold. One year of 21st century pandemic, has certain effects. Dominant is the feeling of uncertainty. There are roadblocks at the border. Still, after six months with meetings by ‘skype’ only, the three of us met at small parking-place, to walk in the forest.
three photographers meet one tree
No kissing or hugging, we focus on nature, and some human acts.
inscriptions from earlier date
One should not carve in skin of trees, but testimonies often are built on scars.
yet another scar
Going north, a logger had felled a tree and new life settled on the cut surface.
The face of a logger
Tiny leaves left from autumn, have shadows imprinted on bark.
fragile shadows
About fifty years ago, someone planted stakes on (and with a) purpose. One straight, the other leaning for support, joined with an iron nail.
so much at stake
Here, there is quietude, and the option to choose which way to go.
the other way
At another time, one may meet a fellow traveler on this earth, his/her shelter being a hole in the ground.
Fox hole
Someone took a token of belief, and by placing it in old tree trunk, fixed time and memory.
token
The clefts and riggles of bark of this birch tree surpass abstraction.
birch
“Three of us is enough: not afraid of tension or to separate fields, and create boundaries”
the three of us
text and images (c) Drager Meurtant, March 7-8, 2021
Only after crossing trenches / and brooks, and raising / fallen trees upright, // followed by rubbing out / the dirty ground from narrow eyes, // and by calling loud: “I’m alone!” // motion started behind / the bushes.
Slechts na oversteek van greppels / en kreken, en het rechtzetten / van omgevallen bomen, // waarna de vuile grond uit geknepen ogen / werd gewreven , // en door luid te roepen: “ik ben alleen!” // kwam er beweging vanachter / het struikgewas.
drager-meurtant 