IML Arenzano (2011)
Climbing and sweating in beautiful Arenzano

IML stands for Internation Marchin League, an organized hike of multiday hiking event which meet certain quality requirements. Well marked, food and drinks provided for, beautiful routes and very sociable. Just about every country has an IML-hike and some hikers visit them all. I am not that fanatical, but now and again I do enjoy the buzz of the crowded hiking feasts. This time I was in Italy, where the difference between a steep slope and an abyss is not altogether clear as you would think. I am not afraid of heights and climbs debris fields easily. End still… One thing I do know: tripping here is not sensible. Two hiking days, 23 and 24 km, take the utmost of my calves.

Day 1: 0 meter
Morning on the Ligurian Sea. Purple blue mountains appear on the horizon, the sun bounces off the water. On the little square on Arezano’s boulevard lines have already formed at the registration tables, hikers eager to get started. There are Polish and German soldiers, Dutch marines and individual hikers from Taiwan, Lithuania, Belgium and Italy. As one of the many Dutch I have my registration card scanned and head out. We immediately turn away from the sea and hike up through narrow alleys, while other hikers hurry down towards the start. In shopping streets life is slowly getting under way. Blinds are going up, a fish seller spreads slithery squids on a cooling table. Ahead of me I spot Ilona’s bobbing ponytail, who keeps a brisk pace. Now and again there’s a traffic warden, waving a red flag at the still empty streets. The climb is not that bad, we gradually gain height. Then, like an imposing backdrop behind a church decorated with festive flags, for the first time Monte Argentea appears. Whoops! Beforehand I could not fathom  one kilometer height difference. It didn’t seem like a lot. Now I see the mountain, the top high above us and realize we are in for one hell of a climb. E hike across sidewalks and back roads , slowly getting higher and outside the city. Then we leave tarmac for a forest path. Wonderful, here I feel at home. It’s a narrow path and I count myself lucky Arenzano is not busy enough for the organization to stick to the safety of wider paths or tarmac. Soon I realize there are not many choices here. Where we are going there is no tarmac. Now and again we have a view of the mountains. The slopes are green, but closer to the top I only see sandy brown. It’s nice and warm, but not stuffy and in the shade of pine trees the hiking is great. In the depths I hear water falling. A small stream swirls across the rocks, which are more impressive than the water. An artwork of polished grey. The streambed suggests a much larger stream than the brook which skips downwards now and later too we see places near the rock faces where I suspect water in wetter times. Along the trail a typical herbal scent rises. Thyme?

352 meter
After six kilometers we reach the first vehicle stop, a mobile rest area. We are spoilt with sandwiches and chocolate, carbonated spring water or plain, some kind of fizzy drink. What I wonder especially, how the heck did they get all that up here? There are two jeeps, but hardly see anything you could call a road or even a track. After a short break we wind on past the rock face, with spectacular view both ahead and behind to sea. We cross several stone avalanches, jumping from rock to rock. On one slope walls have been constructed at different heights to keep the stones in place somewhat. Along one of the walls a path runs and how small the hikers look against that huge rock face. After the break the forest changes, becomes more of an deciduous forest where moisture drips from the rocks and makes the path muddy.

903 meter
At a mountain hut there’s lukewarm tea. There’s also a garden hose, but there’s such a thin trickle coming from it your bottle only fills very slowly and soon there’s a long queue. From the valley clouds slowly emerge to surround the mountain tops. We push on and climb. Yesterday I thought it was a bit much, a finish time of 17.00 hours. For a 23 k? When the start is at 07.30? Now I am starting to realize that time is not entirely unrealistic. It has been a long time since I was in the mountains and I need a new point of reference for hiking there. Now and again I am overtaken by ultra runners, who run the course. Full of admiration I watch on while the rush the rocks. I prefer certainty of solid ground or at least a steady rock underneath my feet before I commit my weight to one leg. Dogs are aplenty too, just like people with trekking poles. On the narrow paths that is a pain, because it makes overtaking someone difficult. Still it’s not that busy we are walking in a traffic jam.    

1.068 meter
We reach the tree line and when I leave the trail for a bit to look past a rock into the valley to my surprise I discover heather underneath the tall grass. Some flowers still reaching sunlight bloom purple. A sign post full of unfamiliar names makes me curious about which other hikes are out here. The view is almost zero now. Cotton ball clouds glide past the mountain hut where we have our main break. After the climb to the top I can wring out my T-shirt and I am not the only one. One hiker dries his shirt on his trekking poles,  another walks around bare-chested or pulls on a clean shirt. We enjoy our surroundings, but I am can’t remain idle long and do not linger. Now and again it’s like a veil is lifted and I can see hikers disappearing in the distance. I set out to follow them. Along the path there are impressive dead trees, their branches all pointing in the same direction. For I moment I suspect it’s caused by the wind, which may have blown from the same direction for years, but then I see  the branches which overhung the path have all been pruned. It’s still a spooky sight though.

735 meters
There must be something special here. The procession of hiker forms a single line, waiting patiently below the bunting ahead of the vehicle stop in the distance. Ah, there’s pasta to be had! I don’t feel like standing in line very long and head downwards across the grass, looking for a spot in the shade. The green and red distances (short and long) meet here and the grass is filled with happily chatting people. Children run around, there’s food and drinks aplenty. I lie down in the shade, plenty of time still. There are even porta-potties. How we are spoilt. For some reason you expect more primitive amenities abroad, but this hike is truly perfectly organized. Perfectly way marked, perfect provisions and now porta-potties too.   

502 meters
Across a wide road we leave Beigua national park. The gravel road ends at a tarmac road trimmed with stacked rocks. Now and again I hear some rustling in the fallen leaves. Then I take a good look, a lizard. The slender brown animal doesn’t stay in one place, but runs around constantly. After another steep forest path downwards and some Maria statues in a rock face we reenter the town. Fortunately it’s not over yet, tomorrow we can have a go at it again.