We went to Pisa yesterday to meet Lynn at the airport. It was a dull day, with rain forecast. However, Lynn's plane landed only 20 minutes late, and we were able to quickly get the shuttle bus - raining heavily by now, brollies at the ready - and then catch a train direct from Pisa to Barga to allow us to arrive in daylight. Unfortunately, once past Lucca, as we proceeded into the hills of the Garfagnana, the rain had turned to wet snow. For some undefined reason, this caused the failure of one of the level-crossings on the line, and it was more than an hour of waiting before the railwaymen and the carabinieri let the train finally go on. I think we were the first train up the line since the snow, as the driver proceeded at a snail's pace for the rest of the trip. When we got down at Barga station, it was dark and the slushy snow was two inches deep in the car park and the drive up to town was not very pleasant, even though the ploughs had been out.
Anyway, after a night of hard frost, the day dawned bright, the red-billed leiothrix were on the kaki tree and it was a cracker of a blue-sky day. We were able to have a walk part of the way up the Renaio path, although some of the paths were treacherous. A meeting with an older resident provided Bill and Barbara with much-needed practice in the vernacular!
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| A foggy chilly scene on the platform of Barga station yesterday |
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| Today though - normal service was resumed, with an (almost) cloudless sky |
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| Pekin Robin and its favourite food (what will they do when the kaki all gone? We may need to sort something out ...) |
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| Barbara and Lynn on the road behind the house |
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| Passing the time of day on the road to Renaio |
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| Afternoon tea-time - time to crack open the pannetone ... |
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| ... and a fine sunset to finish |
perfect view of a desolate farm in front of Barga station, strangely, I had never noticed that building.
ReplyDeleteThe leoithrix eating a kako (a caco? a kaki?) looks almost a kaki himself (a caco with eyes).
Barbara with panettone on the terrace: a scene out of a Puccini opera.
And the (for us) usual immaculate mountains on the background: out of a Swiss calendar.