Layla in the land of the snow king

REINHOLD MESSNER

Layla

in the land of

the snow king

Illustrated by

Davide Panizza

When I was a little girl, Dad called me Layla, a name that means ÂŤthe top of the mountainÂť.

He used to travel a lot and live in the land of the snow king for months. When he returned home, he would not tell much. Water, air and light from up there made him forget everything.

I was curious, that much that once I decided to go with him. We took off high in the sky on a big metal bird and flew for a long time, to a far and unknown village.

From there, we had to continue our journey on foot.

Dad repeatedly told me to think about it, and reminded me of all the comforts I had: our lovely home, my soft bed, the scent of blooming gardens, music, my favourite dishes, my thousand toys.

Up there we had to live in a tent, sleep on a thin mat, constantly exposed to dangers, wake up at the shout of the storm, eat dry food, drink turbid water made of snow. I wanted to follow him anyway, despite everything.

We spent several days walking, passing fields and houses.

We put up our tent in the evening and took it down in the morning. We lived like nomads.

In those villages there were no medicines to buy.

People who lived there, when sick, used to eat stone dust and some special herbs, and walk for days and days.

Either they recovered, or they died. I had not seen a hospital, anywhere, and we had not met a doctor either.

Along the trails there were some big trees offering us their shadow. We paused often, sometimes for an entire evening, then we thanked them and continued our journey.

This is how I learned to distinguish one rock from the other, transform wood into fire, mimic white partridges, goats and yaks.

At an even greater altitude we melted ice to have some water to drink.

Soon I felt very tired and I didn’t want to go on walking anymore. «Layla», Dad said, «in the land of the snow, either you climb up to the top or you don’t even start, and stay down the mountain.»

But then he put me in his backpack and brought me along steep slopes, through deep ravines, along milkwhite streams.

I slept on his shoulders, I looked around and fell asleep again. It was the most beautiful of my dreams.