I’m on a plane as I write, so this is a risk, as is all travelling. On my way to Italy on a walking holiday and this small section of writing may well be lost as I’m doing it on the plane with no internet, so rather depending on the local hardware.

I’m not a natural at travelling that is, in fact I’ve been one the reluctant traveller of late, seeing no glamour in it whatsoever. We took the bus to Heathrow and that was only ok in retrospect. The fact that we had seats helped, but there’s something very frustrating about buses circling stops to pick I’m sure deserving customers up on the way.

Booked in for the night in an airport hotel as the flight was due to leave almost before the birds start singing. Hotel is one of those chains but you know what you’ll get, a room with a bed, telly and tea making facilities. As it is on the airport it is completely sealed from the outside noise so only manufactured fresh air is available in these parts. Close to Terminal 4 we need to be at Terminal 5 in the morning.

In the event we took the early workers bus, instead of the terminal hopper, £1.75 instead of £7.00 but you get what you pay for. We stood all the way with two cases and quite a number of roundabouts to negotiate. Suitcases with wheels become a moving obstacle, and which suitcase doesn’t have wheels these days?

The actual travelling time is always outweighed by the serious amount of waiting around at a bus stop, or a terminal building. Generally highly non productive apart from the people watching. We are going on a walking holiday and the tell tale hint of a likely walking companion is if they are wearing walking boots. Something walking people do as they take up massive amounts of room in the case. Others to note are the serious travellers who seem to glide without a hint of nerves through the airport areas, and dress as if they are going out to a relaxed dinner party. Luggage luggers are another. One chap this morning had the look of a trucker with huge trailer behind, pushing another case in front, necessary paperwork and in an over the shoulder holder bag, and the air of a man who knew exactly where he was going and how to get there.

I’ve travelled a fair bit but still don’t get the hang of it. Constant checking of the paperwork, passport and timings feature large. I should read a book but can’t. I should do the odd drawing in my little sketch book, but I don’t, hoping instead to commit what I see to memory, I can do that but it would be better to try it on site. I also dress without proper planning. Generally I get too warm, concerned that I will feel the cold but I never do as the heady mixx of nerves and effort challenges the deodorant, and loses, pity the poor person next to me.

One thing I have done is spend some time sitting on this crowded plane writing this, but as I have no internet connection there’s the very good chance that I may be simply talking to myself from here in economy, sitting closer to people than is proper, sipping from the small plastic bottle of water supplied and chewing on a grain bar with added blueberries. The only thing that’s free on this flight, plastic water and roughage.

We land in Naples and then spend more hours on a bus to get to where we do our walking in Abruzzo. The temperature we left in the low 20s and 10 degrees lower where we are going with added rain, sod it, we could have gone to Cumbria.

So now in mid flight they bring those trollies down the aisles trying to flog snacks that were made at ground level in the early hours. One really good thing about the Airport is the availablility of decent food from Pret A Manger, but at a price. It seems a shame to me that they can’t be persuaded to do the catering on the flights, but I’m sure they would say that price is not right. One very small Spanish custard tart at the airport was almost £5.00!!

Two days later and having been on the first walk. Much rain forecast later in the day, we set off in sunshine, 27 of us! It felt like football crowd rather than a hiking group. We are almost all people in retirement. This guided walking holiday lot is a strange sort of profile mix, there are a high number of discreet hearing aids and it’s best not to chat about ailments and medication, brexit, and politics. All these mature people guided up mountain paths by young and knowledgeable local guides. One wonders what the future business plan might look like with new customer recruits in the wings, probably all of an age to deserve a bus pass.

I’ll skip to the end, everything improved especially my mood. The people on the walks were lovely and easy company, some with fascinating life stories to tell, but all of us with one thing in common, a love of the outdoors. There was a choice of walks each day, hard or easy. I only did the easy ones, I wasn’t there to do a route march. Fantastic scenery and the weather got kinder to us too. I only needed to wear my ‘Fred Scuttle Nipple Trousers’ once. ( plastic type rainproof over trousers that are so big they reach nipple level on me ) we walked through fields of wild flowers and through ancient beech woods, with guides who gave us lots of fascinating information about the area as we went. The birds were everywhere and thanks to my phone app which spots the calls and identifies them we heard dozens of them, some I’ve never heard before. On one day the app, and me heard 24 different type of birds not including a cuckoo, which I heard myself. I suspect the app thought it was a clock. One of our local Italian guides had the ability to mock some bird sounds and his Tawny Owl impression was good enough to be register on the app! A six foot Italian Tawny Owl, very rare.

On our day off, yes we have a day there where we don’t have a walk planned, I spent time on a red bench near the water’s edge just outside the village just listening and drinking it in. I even heard a Hoopoe and can prove it as I have the recording, but was so surprised that I let off an expletive, which it too recorded. That will teach me to moderate my language. After my reflections on the red bench I set of back to the village, passing the odd red deer here and there. They are very common around the place, There are bears in the hills and wolves too, but they keep themselves to themselves. Back in the village the local small grocery store offered to make me a sandwich which I had by the river, lovely people. My other half had taken to the hills again in the morning with some new found companions and they did a huge walk. I’m not sure quite how she does it.

As the week progressed the food in the hotel seemed to get better and better too, though the vegetarians amongst us did look a little crestfallen at times. Italians here don’t seem to understand veggies. The night of the broad bean pods had everyone puzzled, where they brought dishes of fresh broad beans uncooked to the table. Not a good idea.

All in all it was a great getaway to an area seemingly untouched by rampant tourism. The villages are these days apparently full of second homes and there seemed to be a tiny population within them. We’d chosen a quiet time of year to go there.

Coming back was not a joy, but we were prepared in some ways for it. ‘See Naples and die‘ used to be the saying, I’d put it slightly differently: ‘See Naples Airport and find any reasonable alternative’. It was frenetic, crowded, noisy and very unpleasant. It’s a long journey home: coach, plane, bus, train, taxi : 13 hours. And that’s with nothing major going amiss.

Back to sunny England where it seems there’s been no rain for weeks.