Day 16 – Val Taleggio

I’ve been taking lovely walks in the woods, especially in the shaded places where the forest is carpeted with foliage.

The leaves are starting to change color in beautiful ways.

Today I took the bus to San Giovanni Bianco, the nearest large town, to go to the ATM, the pharmacy, the print shop/stationery store, and the supermarket where I’ll find more choices and less costly ones too.

The road passes through the Orrido della Val Taleggio, a narrow gorge three kilometers long. Certain places along the route allow descent to the river where people are enjoying dips in the cool waters.

A hub town, San Giovanni Bianco sees a rush of cars and motorbikes going this way and that. I managed to find the pharmacy but needed to take a back route because the heavily-trafficked main road does not have a sidewalk.

I came across the town square, Piazza Zignoni, with a statue dedicated to the town father.

The back streets took me through an old area of town with arches and heavy wooden doors seeming from the Middle Ages.

Here too are the pervasive for-sale signs.

After I did my errands, I went to the Ceresa Museum, which had a nice view of the river from its windows.

The museum had a display of photographs by an artist whose work focuses on nature. I enjoyed seeing his close-up photos of leaves.

To accompany his exhibit, he included this enormous dried plant leaf. I was told it was a bardana, a burdock leaf, and that they are prevalent in the area. I’m surprised I haven’t come across a burdock tree in all my trail walks, but perhaps they are at a higher elevation? I might take a look at iNaturalist and see if anyone has identified them near Sottochiesa.

In San Giovanni Bianco I picked up the print outs of leaves I have identified on my walks. They will accompany my leaf prints in some way.

I had been looking forward to my trip to San Giovanni, especially to have a meal at the cafe near the bus stop. The owner rather aggressively pushes his offerings. I asked him in what way the focaccia he was serving were really Genovese Focaccia. I had my doubts. When he told me with a grin that he was from Genoa, I knew in no way was he telling the truth, and I picked the tuna salad.

I had a successful excursion to San Giovanni Bianco. I didn’t lose my wallet, trip at the crosswalk, or get run over by a racing motorcyclist. I also got a second opinion on my burnt finger, which I had injured steaming plant bundles. The enormous blister was a least an inch high on my middle finger. The pharmacist had told me to puncture it, which went against everything I had read on the internet. I did not puncture it, but it developed a little hole on its own, slowly emitting a liquid. I helped release the moisture from the blister, as the pharmacist in Olda had suggested.

Now in San Giovanni, the pharmacist told me I should not have done that, and gave me some very good bandage material that sticks to itself. All is healing well, despite going against best practices. If this is my worst health problem, I am in good shape.