INCHING nervously across a wet, metal rope, I looked down at the rocks and foaming river 40ft below, and thought: “This is a bit pazza.”
Then a day later, as I clambered up and down slippery slopes in pitch-dark caverns with pipistrelle bats fluttering about my ears, I told myself: “Yup, this is definitely pazza.”
Yet here, in the heart of Italy’s Apennine mountains, I couldn’t stop smiling and laughing as I did the sort of daring things an auld codger who usually travels by free bus pass would previously have regarded as crazy — or, as they say in Italy, “pazza”.
It was certainly a ‘Once in a Lifetime’ experience. And, as Dumbarton’s David Byrne said in his classic Talking Heads song: “Well, how did I get here?”
Well, after arriving at Florence Airport, a two-hour drive into Pistoia region, round dozens of hairpin bends, took me to Abetone.
Normally a bustling ski resort but I’d arrived out of season when some of its many bars, restaurants and hotels were closed.
However, we were given a warm welcome, with cakes and coffee, at the Lupo Bianco bar before checking into the Hotel Sport.
It’s a friendly wee abode, and after I swigged a reviving espresso, I headed out for a trek in the forest above the town.
We were at 1,570m (5,150ft), right on the border of Tuscany and Emilia Romagna. The air was crisp and cold, the views were breathtaking.
The exercise helped build an appetite for a typical Italian feast at the Hotel Ristorante Bristol, starting with a plate of antipasti packed with cured meats and bruschetta.
That was followed by creamy tortellini, then spaghetti in a rich sauce, before sliced steak with rosemary and roast potatoes.
All washed down with fine local wines and finished off with sweet tiramisu. Not surprisingly, this greedy midden slept like a log.
Next morning we took a cablecar to the top of Monte Gomito. Skiers hurtle down from this lofty summit in winter, but there was almost no snow to be seen.
We then headed down to Abetone Gravity Park, where staff handed me an e-bike and led me off to explore the woods of the Sestaione Valley.
Just press the wee button on the handlebar and you can go whizzing almost effortlessly up steep forest trails. These devices make cycling holidays accessible for ordinary mortals, rather than super-fit poseurs in lycra.
The scenery was spectacular and with just enough pedalling to justify tucking into more platefuls of local delicacies at Albergo Sichi, in Cutigliano.
Boar sausages, cured ham, sliced beef, pungent cheeses, polenta and more. Plus fresh plonk from a nearby vineyard.
Then off we went to Garfagnana, in Valle del Serchio, where Canyon Park provides a unique destination for those seeking high-adrenaline thrills — or peace and relaxation.
I was handed a helmet, gloves, harness, ropes and safety clips and taken out to a ravine split by the River Lima’s stunning green waters.
I clambered along cliff faces and tip-toed across tightropes and swaying bridges while peering in near terror at the roaring rapids far below.
All worth it for the exhilaration of flying across 100m of ziplines. Thankfully, this nerve-fraying bampottery was safe at all times.
My heart still thumping, I staggered down to the venue’s beach area. This tranquil haven is popular for well-being experiences such as yoga, massage and nights in the forest.
Our kind hosts laid on a smashing buffet before we headed on to Hotel Belvedere where my massive room had a terrace that offered a panorama of seemingly endless peaks and valleys.
Dinner was in this classy site’s dining room where we were fed until bursting with the region’s finest dishes. Plus a glass or two of vino and a powerful “digestivo” to make your eyes water.
The next day started peacefully enough with another e-bike excursion, this time through the Tuscan-Emilian Apennines National Park to beautiful Lake Gramolazzo.
Next, we switched from two wheels to four legs as, for the first time in my life, I sat in the saddle of a fully grown horse at Il Vecchio Ranch.
A patient helper led my gentle mare, Nicola, on a leisurely amble as I dug my heels into the stirrups and prayed I didn’t topple off.
My colleagues were keen to go galloping off like gauchos on the Pampas but I was happy to climb down and dig into some barbecued sausages.
Sustenance for my next challenge, in Lunigiana, where I was shown the mountains of the Apuan Alps — then invited to go inside them.
The picturesque village of Equi Terme is home to an amazing caves complex. First I came face to face with a giant stuffed bear while being kitted out again in safety gear, this time including a strong lamp on my helmet.
And I needed it as our guide, Andrea, led us deeper and deeper into the caverns through damp passageways that got narrower and steeper.
I clambered up and down, then slithered along more narrow metal ropes.
It was arduous and needed a strong nerve. But worth it to reach a deep space named The Cathedral, turn off our lights and sit in pitch darkness listening to nothing but the echoing sound of dripping water.
On our way out, tiny bats fluttered around us, fascinating wee creatures.
And the thrills just kept on coming, with another three long zipline rides, covering 200m. I let out a throaty yell as I hurtled across a deep gorge before thumping into a large pad on the side of a mountain..
Bed for the night was at Albergo Il Sicomoro, a charming hotel where yet another lavish banquet was laid on. It included dishes made with chestnuts, which locals have used for centuries to make flour, like tagliatelle di castagne with a sausage ragu.
Tuscan cooking is so rich and full of taste. And I was certainly getting enough of it.
Sweating off those calories came easy next morning as we changed into wetsuits and hiked along the Via Francigena.
This is an ancient route followed for 1,500 years by pilgrims heading to Rome.
But walking in wetsuits? Our guides from Sigeric Experiences were just getting us ready for a spot of trekking along the River Magra.
As we stepped into the fast-flowing torrent, my feet slipped on rocks and I tumbled into the froth.
It was explained we’d be doing a bit of swimming and plunging into pools. The rest of the group couldn’t wait to start. I couldn’t wait to get out.
Later, as we tucked into beers and focaccia snacks at Birra del Moro in Pontremoli, my younger and braver pals told me about the fun they’d had on their river trek — unhindered by this big feartie.
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I just laughed. I’d had more than enough adventures in this incredible corner of Italy that were “pazza” all the way.