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stones on the road , blowing your horn just before the more hazardous turns . Often you must pass over or around a landslide that can be dozens of metres long , or sometimes ford your way across the bed of a stream .
When shepherding and agriculture was the only activity and people moved by feet , a dense net of paths crossed these streams and valleys , allowing relatively quick connections . We rode on an old one between Palizzi and Bova , rising higher and higher , dominating the sun filled valleys beneath , whose bottom was hidden by the late afternoon shadow . The blue of the Ionian Sea blending with the sky in an undefined horizon while , on the other side , we went ahead , our backs immersed in the warm sun slowly getting closer to the wavy skyline , on which the unmistakable profile of Bova ’ s castle stood out .
Nothing but strewn goatherds ’
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