We say goodbye to Gravena driving toward Igoumenista.

The chosen street is through the Pindos. The rain, the sun and the waters of the river are our companions. We must be in Igoumenitsa this evening. Let’s start the journey through the mountains!

Veneticos is an other affluent of Aliakmonas river. Ἁλιάκμων was in greek mithology one of the sons of Okeanos and Thetys, sea nymph and goddess of water. An ancient tradition says that sheep that drank water from Aliakmon would turn their colour to white. This tradition is not more transmitted surely but I can immagine that in Grevena the people will know about this tradition in some fairy tails.

Portitsa Bridge is signing the end of the valley of Kanavi, between the mountains of Spileo and Lykotrypa, This Bridge was built in the XVIII century and is the only land passage between the Spileo an Monachiti Mountian.
The atmosfera here is amazing. The air and sound of Nature are giving us energies and peace.

Before reaching to the top of the pass to Metsovo we stop to drink at the fountain. Along this road there are several. No one walks the road except us, the woods line the asphalt and the rain drops bathe our faces softly.

The weather is really not good. Not only for the rain but the wind is so strong and became stronger than higher on the mountain we drive. The loneliness on the road, the doubt to have chosen the right way! Also if the wind don't gives me confidence that I will make it without difficulties. I start to think on the power of willingness and my concentration on the body is the mantra in this moment for me. I have to manage to don't go out of the street because the wind.

I’m chanting to concentrate my thoughts.

'Capita di morire più volte al giorno./ Si muore anche tutte le notti. / Sparati, investiti, con una botta in testa / di schiena, di gomito o di culo/in silenzio o col frastuono di sirene. / con un pubblico o da soli. / Da cani randagi, da regine scronate. / Di schiaffi si muore, di offese umilianti / di bugie incancrenite, di colpe o di rimorso/ di debiti a venire e crediti a rimandare / di cose mute che sverminano in bocca, / di troppa fatica alle giunture, di scoramento.

Si muore tante volte e pure di pomeriggio / poi ci si alza e si va, come se niente fosse. / finché non sei morto, ne hai da morire.

(''La prima verita' Simona Vinci p.229)

I will do it! Long the road the nature is wonderful, I keep concentrate to don't be rushed against the rock... Tarantina is great and goes forward with me.

The clouds cames more and more black, but finally we arrived to Metsovo! Gasoline for Tarantina we arrived risking to stop without petrol during the downhill. It is 2 pm and we take a rest at the taverna. There we eat all what we could, putting our clothes on front of the fire. Two hours stop with a magnific meal and atmosphere of welcoming. We did it! :-)

5 pm the way to Igoumenitsa is chosen toward the Egnatia. I cannot effort more country side road because my arm. I would like it but there are some realities to accept.

Igoumenitsa. We arrived for the sunset. The sea is wonderful on front of us. We greet Nature the sound and energy of this sea and its waves.

“Then flesh dissolved, glances congealed, the heart's pulse stopped,
and the great mind leapt to the peak of its holy freedom,
fluttered with empty wings, then upright through the air
soared high and freed itself from its last cage, its freedom.
All things like frail mist scattered till but one brave cry
for a brief moment hung in the calm benighted waters:
''Forward, my lads, sail on, for Death's breeze blows in a fair wind!"

(Nikos Katzanzakis)

“Una goccia da quel blu / dove il mistero del suo colore / affiora le nostre menti... / Le nuvole non avevano pace, lei segue quella retta che / la fisica impone, / verso la terra che tanto l'attende. / Sfiora quel soffio che non ha nome / e balla felice portata con un dito e / abbracciata svincolandosi / da ogni ragione / fino a lasciarsi lentamente... / Riprende il suo viaggio verso te / Cade la goccia sul mio volto / Porta con sè la vita! / I fiori sbocciano / Gli ulivi si risvegliano /I corpi si muovono delicati / nel bacio di lei.”

“ A drop from that blue / where the mystery of its color / surf our minds ... The clouds had no peace, following that straight that physics dictates, / towards the land that awaits it so much. / Grazes that breath that has no name / and dance happily keeped by a finger and / embracing by freeing herself / for all reasons / until I let myself go ... / He resumes his journey towards you / The drop falls on my face / Bring life with! / The flowers bloom / The olive trees awake / the bodies move delicate / in the kiss of her. “

(khriyannis)

Gravena-Igoumenistsa, 20th april 2017