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Bongiorno, sir! You in Italy!

Still light and seen, as wave after wave of ducks to fly. In pairs, units and squadrons. Autumn, in October, it doesn’t matter, drakes or females, all fly Pell-mell. The first portion of the six vypilivaya from the trunk of my neighbor, and duck, secularises, noisy plops down into the water. I have a gun on her partner. Projectile knock out newtonica a few feathers, and green-headed, beating against the ground behind me.

Second shot — and one duck falls into a propeller meter strip of reeds. My assistant barely manages to convey a loaded gun and take me broken. This is the case when could use small gloves, in a hurry not to burn yourself on the hot barrel. Melt packs of ammo. And the ducks fly, fly… Every wave is shown above the trees at intervals of 30-40 seconds. When I miss a couple of ducks that broke through the cordon, an elderly Italian winked at me provocatively. Passing overhead at low level flight, birds sit on the water. Here their only salvation: shooting is allowed only in flight, and ducks, it seems, knows about this. In any case, an experienced, hardly appeared above the tops of the trees, make waggle maneuver and anti-aircraft dive vertically into the lake. If you stand on tiptoes and look over the protective metal shields installed in front of the reeds at eye level, you can see a huge flock of ducks nervously wailing, huddled masses in the middle of the lake…

And now heated not only trunks, but the lock on the underside of the forearm. The cardboard box is nearly empty. How much time had passed half an hour, an hour, two? — no one noticed. But the horn sounds, immediately giving the command to finish shooting, and shotguns zacheshetsya, the hunters clamber onto the parapet. It starts with the collection of production with the participation of Labradors. And guests however come to a spreading chestnut tree, where they will be a big round table with an aperitif and light snacks. Fire in folded lovingly boulders from the hearth almost never smokes. What is it? A dream in the style of “peculiarities of national hunting”? The dream of long-suffering office in the wilds of the hunter? But it is better to leave aside the mixed feelings and agree that it is worth to spit on everything and at least once in life to visit the truly Royal hunt.

Italian is not stiff German border guard, concerned by the continuous migration “nerezinovym” Germany. Meticulous and pedantic of course. And not even a representative of the exotic Laos or Bhutan, with whom you agree to not spoil your stamp a blank page in the passport and put it somewhere on the edge. Italian, casually glancing at a five-year Schengen visa, without a moment’s hesitation just slaps the stamp directly into the new turn and… Bonjorno, sir! You in Italy! (Perhaps those who drive little and who do not have to apply for a new passport prematurely due to used pages, not to understand). Milan is located near the Northern border, conveniently located close to Switzerland. Turin, Lugano — restaurant suggestion. And, of course, a small and charming city with a compact, but at the same time rich hunting shop Beolchini Armeria. But… the Swiss (and German) prices in stores are not pleased with the burghers, so they practice “shopping spree” cheaper in Italy. Of course, upon the return of nationals guards is to ensure that they did not carry out the EU, even in transit, more kilograms of meat without paying import duty to the Swiss Treasury. Fortunately, the limitation does not apply to game meat. But on the turn when passing the border we came across. I mean me and my brother Maximus, who decided to make me a birthday gift — to show a place near Ticino. Because he knew that no gold mine so will not please the old hunter, as a hunting opportunity in a new country and new place. First there were two of us. But gradually, the team acquired companions, among whom five were expatriates and two local fans of hunting in Peru. Near the town of GAVI for us, booked a hunting farm G&G Hunting Services is owned by Giorgio and Graziella Paraporti. Here like to drop in and high politicians, wealthy businessmen, and those close to crowned heads, — the game is enough for everyone…

First day greets us with a friendly sun, a richly decorated table in a cozy saloon, smiling maids. Bongiorno, lady! Grazie! Today we are running hunting. On the first floor is lined with rolling weapons — double-barreled and semi-automatic, the 12th and the 20th of calibers, mainly the production of “Benelli” and “Perazzi”. At the second attempt choose a pair that fits along the length of the Lodge to my growth, and on the case immediately hang tag with my name on it. Covers and bags of ammunition loaded into the back of one of the Landrover Defender. In the body put the other cages with dogs. The hunters, whose trail begins with the top sites placed on the passenger seat. We will land on the mountain, where we descend the course. Accompanied by the rest of the Rangers ejected from a hunting Lodge on foot. However, to call old hunting Lodge, equipped with modern communication building, more like a castle, well, no way. The premises, including the wardroom, reminiscent of the trophy room, and even the entrance is decorated with deer antlers and ROE deer. Medallions with wild boar tusks, antlers and capes harvested animals around the huge fireplace, stuffed birds and animals, skins on the floor, paintings on hunting themes, and even the lights on the walls and the embroidery on the cushions reflect the style and purpose. Just hunting Paradise!..

The European tradition — a festive display produced during a day game. Restaurateurs will be pleased.

However, running hunting does not give the expected results. The dog, a cross between a German shorthaired pointer and Terrier, apparently, were trained on the noise rise in the game. I inherited a dog could pass in ten centimeters from lurking in the grass pheasant, responded, and on the way back to pick it up, nearly stepping. Several birds raised deer, which spooked the dog. But our trip allowed us to briefly explore the hunting ground. In addition to grapes, it grows corn for the whole fauna without exception. For boars hanging large capacity, equipped with solar panels to power the timers that control the regular feed to the site. For pheasants — special cells with the vessel, podsypaya grain as it Slavyane. And of course, everywhere there are towers for shooting of ungulates. The farmer told us that the little hasanat, bought from France, they are placed on a strictly deliberate plan. Of course, there is also marten, and foxes, but the vast majority of young animals adapts to the wild…

Yes, the result of our first Italian walk was not very comforting (three produced a cock at me, from “nothing” to two other companions), but smartly laid table with wine and snacks pleased. And in the afternoon we finally took the soul on a duck hunt. The ducks are in a semi-free content.

Apparently, on the lake, equipped with positions for shooting, they are fed, and then sent to another lake or even in the field, where in the case of hunting produced in small batches of two to six individuals. Other water bodies in the area do not, so the ducks like nothing better than to rush back to his home. Think about how to safely dive into the water the bird is able to take care of (especially if this is the second in her life hunting). And those who thinks bad and goes to circle before landing, suffered… as a result, about a thousand luptatorii was honored to participate in the computation at the end of the first day of hunting…

The morning meets us with drizzling rain and fog. Bonjorno! Just what we need! Planned on hunting down pheasants, which should be the culmination of the race. But in the fog the bird flies reluctantly, so an extra hour waiting to razbegalis. And the Italian sky has taken pity over us. Quickly run up on the machines and go.
For us — a great big trailer with Labradors. Everyone has their own room, which after drawing, which he will take on the shooting line in four scheduled positions. Arrangement with an interval of 50-60 meters on pre-spaced and numbered pegs. Owners of Labradors are behind the line of shooters. I’m standing on the charging position, the gun is broken in the crook of the arm.

Horn blaring, heralding the start of the hunt. The first birds rise almost immediately when the beaters with dogs have not yet heard: they are combing the woods in front of us. And here’s a dog’s skills are manifested in all his glory. Dog kicked all and, periodically returning, trample down crafty even those that fly not in the direction of the shooters, and back in the fold. Is almost uninterrupted years — and return unit? Like near was held yesterday on foot, but managed to raise only a few. However, on the edge on the edge of the meadows, the dog did not go deep. Maybe that was the idea? The fact that they don’t push as ducks yesterday, and honestly squeeze out from the thicket, apparently by the voices and noise movements.
The horn blows the lights out. Run down, collect shells and rush to the machines to move to a new position. And so three more times. With enthusiasm. Labradors prey gather around us, in the open, and find a wounded animal in the bushes…

But sooner or later everything ends. Tomorrow departure, parting with new friends, the sadness. And while traditional display rows. I count 26 rows of 40 beautiful birds in each, and another one in the past. Total 1041 bird. Not bad for nine! Well, the economy does not oblige to take the game with you, everything is distributed to restaurants, leaving some for the next group of hunters. Deciding with the formalities, go to the holiday dinner. That’s all. Arivederci!
Once the hunt was over. Long live the hunt!

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