Day number 3

20170629_105634 (2)Today we are at almost 3000m altitude. My bum is on fire and the rest of the muscles are on strike. That path with a steel wire wasn’t quite straight (photo).

Reaching the peak I see…snow. Some sort of a Christmas in July. It certainly feels that way for me and I’m celebrating every second. Mainly because there is no more walking for today. But Champagne wouldn’t hurt. I’m sweaty, standing in snow in my short pants. Hot and cold «feelings» mixed together.

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Tonight we are staying in a hut on top of the mountain. It is busy here and we are too early. Bedtime is a few hours away and to be honest I’m looking forward to sleep, especially knowing that I gonna share a room with 11 other hikers. What could be better than a room of farting and snoring people? Oh dear! I find this thought is too disturbing to keep in my head. I need a help.

No book in my bag, only a phone with empty battery, so we decided to play cards for the rest of the day. It is not that kind of reward you are waiting for after a long and painful climb. But I quickly change my mind when I look at the snow and wind greeting newcomers. Anything is better in comparison. My mind, body and spirit are getting numb at that point. I’m reaching my summit. Looks like in altitude the air does become thin and less concentrated so do my thoughts. But there is always a reward when you least expect it.

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Clouds are gone and we can see that we are on the top of the world with a breathtaking view over Dolomites. The sun is visiting the peaks for the last time today to kiss and say “Good night”. It always does this way. Every day. For million of years and nothing changed. Time stopped. This feeling is worth millions. At this point nothing else matters, even not a few snorers.

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A cold invitation

20170701_111007 (2)Cold skin. Very cold. I touch my cheek again and to experience this feeling once more. It doesn’t feel like mine anymore. Rain and hail kissed my cheeks million times within the last hour.

Now it’s time to dive into a cloud.

Uncertainty disturbs. Especially on 2000 meters above the sea level on a sharp rocks.

I feel a brush of cold air on my lips, hairs and arms. Finally this milky universe swallowed me and there is no way back any longer. I even don’t know where is that «way back». Everything is white. Everything is the same.

Don’t stop.

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Now I can’t efford this luxury. I just look straight ahead and follow the marks on the track while I still can see something.

Fear. Joy. And curiosity. All mixed in a cocktail that I’m drinking now.

But the thought that I’m walking with a cloud makes me smile. A scarf of thick wet air thrown around me to protect from the cold.

I’m feeling strange here. I feel like I got invited for an event by mistakes.

This experience is impossible to forget. What a treat!

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” Icing fooDprints”

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Snowy mountains of salt.

Their unusual glory attracted our attention. I haven’t seen yet how salt is stored. Especially in contrast with a green land. White crystal mountains almost repeat the big green hills at the back.

Open air! Who would it thought, that salt doesn’t melt in the rain… probably not this amount of salt. I stood there and looked at its beauty. And another thought stroke my mind.

You know the story how we have almost uncontrolled desire to step on a virgin snow? How we like to leave footprints on untouched sand and poke a finger into a freshly made icing? Well, there was somebody walking even on the salt too. Hope they didn’t try to draw a yellow Mickey mouse on it, cause if so I wouldn’t appreciated their talent and a taste of it too… if I only notice, which is less likely….😒

…Hmmm freshly packed salt.

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Снежные заносы соли заинтересовали нас своим необыкновением.

Наверное, лучше сказать наносы соли вместо заносов. Кто ее сюда наносил и почему она храниться в таком виде? Эти вопросы бороздили моё сознание, пока я не заметила следы на склоне. И здесь походил человек!

Ну, ладно если только походил, припоминая наше бесконтрольное желание побегать по нетронутому снегу, походить по девственному пляжу и засунуть палец в шоколадную глазурь на свежеиспечённом торте, то я только могу надеяться, что никому из рабочих не пришло в голову нарисовать желтого Микки мауса на этой белоснежной красоте… Однако, я вряд ли оценю их талант.

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Fresh eye

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Morning started with a view on the mountains.

Today is a last day. We are going back home. And there is no sadness. I’m looking at local houses and imagine that it might be nice to live there – that was my initial thought.

But then I remembered someone’s words that you can’t look at the beauty all the time – it will make you blind. Now I know what it means. This mean that when we are living too close to a subject of beauty we are getting used to it. That’s why I’m happy to return home to have a chance to see all this sensational landscape with a fresh eye some day again.

Hmm… Then does it mean if I leave my partner time to time he ll become even more beautiful? Or Am I in danger of getting blind?

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Сегодня мы едим домой.

Утро началось с вида на горы (фото номер 1). И я подумала, как было бы замечательно жить здесь. Но после я вспомнила чьи- то слова о том, что смотря долго на красоту, можно ослепнуть. Видимо, это значит, что долгое присутствие рядом с объектом необыкновенной красоты вызывает привыкание?

Поэтому я покидаю это место с легкой душой, в надежде вернуться и ещё раз увидеть все новыми не замыленными глазами.

Хммм.. означает ли это, что время от времени мне нужно отдыхать и от своего партнера, чтобы не привыкнуть к его красоте или не ослепнуть не дай Бог?

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Top breakfast

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Today we enjoyed morning mountains.

There is nothing better than mountains – maybe just mountains where you have never been before.

You can’t help yourself to feel small and meaningless there. Everything is less important, there is only a small life of a small human being in front of the stones that are aged for billions of years. They were here before us and will be here after us too.

Going back home we take away a feeling of freedom and connection with a force which not only created those streets of silence carved in rocks, but also formed these vulnerable “us”.

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“…лучше гор могут быть только горы на которых ты ещё не бывал…”- пел когда-то Высоцкий.

Есть в горах привлекательная сила, высота и неприступность. Человек чувствует себя маленьким, уязвимым моментом среди этих холодных долгожителей. Эти горы и формации стоят здесь уже миллионы лет, они были здесь до нас и будут после. И все наши мелкие проблемы улетучиваются в улицах тишины, созданных из глыбы…

Домой мы забираем с собой чувство свободы и принадлежности к силе, которая создала не только нас, но и это каменное великолепие.

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