Monday 14 June Abruzzo National Park

Around the Valle Fondillo

See para 1 under Friday 11 June.

An early morning ride through the Monti della Meta. Alone into the stronghold of the wolf. I had barely given that a second thought, too enraptured by the beech forests, mountains and gurgling streams. Until, at the 1.5 hour mark and not having seen a soul all morning I came across the largest dog turd I had ever seen. Pale, and clearly originating from the hind quarters of a wolf, it glistened freshly. Excrement that could, conceivably, contain recently processed human flesh. Maybe.

What I hadn't been told about the upper reaches of the Valle Fondillo was that it harbours an exceedingly large number of logs and rocks that strongly resemble crouching lupine forms. The path petered out into a barely visible track through boulder strewn forest. Perfect cover for a wiley predator.

Something jumped out of the undergrowth and attached itself to my rear wheel, snarling and kicking up dirt and leaves.

A stick. Probably thrown by a wolf.

Things That Don't Happen At Home #7 The local fauna at home does not, as a rule, leave freshly spilled blood splattered over one's seating arrangements. Nor make off with one's refuse container, depositing it some 20 yds away in a bush with teethmarks marring the strong nylon exterior.