Day 20: Up on the last mountain

How did this happen? Most of the people we met on the way already stopped their journey - most of them planned, some of them unplanned. And I am still hiking! Again, I missed my way out in Belluno. Even though I had decided to fly back from Venice, Belluno would have been a great option to stop hiking. 2 hours by train to Venice and then enjoy the sun and maybe beach for a couple of days. But here I am again. Putting my hiking shoes, my knee straps and my backpack on and go challenge the last mountain on the way. Most people don't speak very nicely of this mountain, as it has ugly antennas on top. Right next to these ugly antennas however there is a nice little hut with amazing views: back to the Dolomites that we just had hiked through, and forward, when it is good weather they say you can even see Venice already.
The day was full off annoying steep parts and acceptable steep parts. 1600m up.  After roughly 5-6 hours of sweating, enjoying and hating it we made it to the top. The last 45 minutes were mainly hate. The view back was amazing, but that was already for a while. Then we could see the hut and had a last very steep way up over a meadow to do. And the hut just didn't come closer. No matter how hard I tried. I was completely exhausted and then the plague of flies started. They just kept sitting on me and flying around me. The flies in the Dolomites were nice. They were so unbelievably slow that you could kill them with one hit, or they would fly away and not come back. Not these ones. I finally arrived at the top of the mountain, not only exhausted and sweaty, but also very angry and swearing at the flies. Unfortunately I also hat to realise that though the view back to the Dolomites was still nice, forward there was only white nothingness.
When I arrived at the hut, I realised there was a party. A live entertainer performed in front of the hut a mix of playing guitar and doing karaoke, quite interesting on top of the mountain.
After getting settled and showering we sat in front of the hut and listened as well. It turned out that it was festa de mortillo (Heidelbeeren Fest). While the party was during the day for the guests, by now most day guests had left and it was actually the staff and friends who continued to enjoy. They were so happy we joined that soon later we all had a glass of prosecco in our hands. As I learned we will be entering the birth place of prosecco in the next two days.
With our glass of prosecco, the German ladies had to go up the stage and join them in singing 'the only German song he had': wind of change (by The Scorpions for the non Germans).
And like this it went on. Even though some of the hiking guests were very irritated by it, I really enjoyed it. Even though they sang not always very nice, it was great to see the locals having fun and getting to know them. And who can say he sang karaoke with an Italian crowd up on a mountain?

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