The Drava River - Part two

One thing I've always liked is the long dirt road that needs to be done to get closer to the water. It's like a no-man's land left to itself. Also here you see marshes, wild trees, fallen branches, tangled creepers. The vegetation is everywhere very thick and sometimes the sun's rays can penetrate creating magnificent light effects.

Reaching the river means crossing the wild vegetation that surrounds it. Among marshes, silences and mystic lights.

This is the second part of the story on the Drava river. If you have not read the first part yet, you can click here.


These places are full of memories for me.


For example it was just among these trees that one day we had a barbecue, because the river water was very high and we couldn't reach the beach. That day I sat on a fallen tree trunk in a bathing suit, and for the first time I felt how painful it can be to be pinched by red ants. An incredible pain and burning that persisted over time.


It's right here that I saw my first leech. 


And I remember that many times we did this road by bike, at full speed, screaming like crazy, and whipping us with some branches, to avoid being points from clouds of horseflies that chased us.


But, despite everything, every time I walk this road through the trees, I feel the magic.


This fall I managed to take pictures of the vegetation while changing color. The leaves were falling continuously and it seemed that it was raining. Shame not to have made a video. Next time.


How to dig a hole in the sand to make a trap

Here at the river I learned to make holes in the sand. Or better: to make traps.

It's easy, just follow some simple rules.


The first rule is to dig a deep hole away from your place at the beach. So that, if someone falls into it, it is difficult to go back to you.


Second point: dig a deep hole. Better if narrow and long, because the chances of someone falling into it increase. The hole must have vertical walls.


Now begins the most delicate phase: covering the hole without leaving any trace of it. We must be able to cover it with a very light structure, made of twigs, shrubs and leaves. If the structure is too light, it will embark under the weight of the sand, if it is too solid you risk walking on it without sinking.


We need to create a first plot of thin branches. They must be placed at regular distances, covering the shortest distance. Then move on to a second layer of even thinner branches, better if reeds, hatched in the other direction. At this point, the best thing is to get some sheets of newspaper, otherwise you are forced to use large leaves, because it is necessary to create a layer that does not let the sand pass.


Then you have to cover everything with a thin layer of dry sand. Of course you also need to get rid of the pile of dug, damp and dark sand, trying to distribute it and cover it with dry sand.

Then you have to move away and lurk in a safe place, and wait for someone to fall into it.


I know, it sounds like a perverse game, but we kids always had a lot of fun. Needless to say: every hole that was made was bigger, deeper and more ambitious than the previous one. One day we reached perfection. Almost we ourselves could no longer recognize where the hole was. And we waited and waited. In the end, unexpectedly, we see our uncle returning from the store of drinks, exactly on the path of the hole. Well, my uncle was not very tall, and he almost disappeared inside the hole. We had to go get him out of there, despite being a great sportsman, football coach.


That was the last hole we dug. The perfect one.

See in the film "Sonatine", after many years, running the same kind of holes in the sand, with the same techniques, has filled me with joy. Thanks, Takeshi.

The river is the border between Croatia and Hungary, and until recently, there was a ban on taking photographs. In fact, all these years, I have no picture of all the time spent here. But now I have been able to do many: in summer, at sunset and in autumn. Let me know what you think about it.

Scrivi commento

Commenti: 0