This chasm is carved by water through the limestone and conglomerates of the mountains above our cove. Starting in alpine meadows, pines and cypresses, it plunges over a thousand meters in about 5 kilometers. 6 of us hired a man with a truck to carry us up the zig-zagging track, a vertigo-inspiring affair from the back of a bouncing pickup.
The village at the top has a sad history, according to our driver. In the local tradition of vendettas, 50 years ago a boy was slapped. Soon after the slapper was shot by the family of the slapped; revenge was taken on the family of the shooter, and so on until 27 people had been killed. Today only a few members of one family live there among the crumbling buildings. This was an area of very tough people, and was never fully subjugated by the Venetians, Turks or Germans. But to throw away that proud history in a meaningless feud seems a travesty.
Anyway, the exhilarating climb down soon erased the somber mood of the ghost village. Tall canyon walls often shaded us on a hot day, and you can see how gorgeous the scenery was. As finale the gorge spits you out onto a perfect stone beach, with clear blue water and caves of marble.
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