Appenzellerland requires another post...

...because it is so lovely, like a childhood dream vision - soft kind hills, smiling houses, and a tremendous sense of luminous space. In the past I always thought that the naive art associated with this region was a painterly affectation, but I think I get it now: the landscape requires it. 

Herbal lore and plant remedies are still widely practised, and traditions are conscientiously observed - men wear large gold earrings and the cows process through the streets in finery on their way down from summer pastures. It is a special place, perhaps partly because ski tourism has not contaminated it.

This morning's procession.

A live shamanic tradition.

Appenzeller paintings.

Shamanic 'Silvesterchläusli' figures in winter landscape. 

Bludenz - Rankweil - Appenzell (CH).

Last Sunday I was at my brother's wedding in Dorset. It was a magnificent occasion on every level, but I won't write more about it since it does not fit into this narrative. 

So far I have been wearing sandals - good pilgrim style, they dry fast when it rains, and obviate the need for washing socks. But the thick skin on my heals started to crack, so now I'm wearing trainers. I also ditched my tent/ sleeping bag/ cooking equipment - a lighter rucksack makes all the difference towards the end of the day. And I have finally crossed into Switzerland. 

Last days in Austria (and the last days of summer?).

Leaving the Inn valley

Sculpture in the woods

Perfect clarity and liquid light

Mr. Finn feeling the heat

A good place to camp...

...is surprisingly hard to find. The Inn valley is very agricultural and I often felt that I was trespassing. Finny took his guard duties seriously, and the amount of dog-walkers, joggers, and cyclists meant that we rarely had a restful night. Things are better here in the mountains - these photos are of a good camp, on sacred ground. Perfect weather today as we crossed the Arlberg Pass. Intense light too, and many seeds carried on the breeze by their parachutes of shining fluff. Sometimes two bump into each other and get stuck together - not a bad metaphor for love, really.

Taking advantage of a rainy rest day for an extra post.

The pleasure of walking is of course its slowness. I have been able to hear accents change from Salzburgerish to Bavarian to Tyrolean, I have observed different customs (like the huge plywood cutouts of storks on the fronts of buildings in the Tyrol, announcing the arrival of a newborn), and I have taken time to explore the old centre of Innsbruck - a little gem. But above all there have been moments when the questions (what am I doing with my life?) cease, the objects around me take on greater clarity and plasticity, and the term 'suchness' begins to make sense. (100)

In Innsbruck.

There are two cross-cultural religious recommendations that resonate with me: fasting, and pilgrimage. Fasting, as well as being physically healthy (http://www.thetimes.co.uk/tto/magazine/article4530742.ece), is a training of one's ability to tolerate discomfort - possibly the most valuable training there is. A pilgrimage, or a long walk (a recent sign informed me that I still have 2688km to go) is more complex. It is bringing home to me that the journey is more important than the destination, perhaps even is the destination. The parallels with life are obvious, but it is good to feel these things through your body, and be reminded of them constantly. (100, excluding link)

P.P.S... e basta.

I am tempted to delete my original post. Finny is in much better spirits today - it's cooler, and we have had two friendly canine encounters which have built up his confidence. But more importantly, we walked past a family whose two young children were fighting and screaming. The boy was particularly snot-nosed and spiteful-looking, and he kept attacking his sister with a stick. Both parents had that harried, bleary-eyed, slightly pudgy look that is so common. I am sure this is not what they had planned for their Sunday outing, and so much more is at stake. (100)