A Month in Italy- A Mother's Gift- Part 5

Refugio Fodara Vedla to Scontoni 

This was a strenuous-strenuous plus day as we climbed up 3,465 feet and down 3,380 feet for 12.5 miles.

We started off in the early morning with this gorgeous view...

stopped at this refugio for a cappuccino...

and enjoyed the view from  this benched alter.  

People placed stones on this one.

Hand painted signs showed us the way.

And the rocks told us where to go.

We ate lunch by this creek.  

Yes, I took off my boots and waded.

We meandered past this alpine lake.

Scottish cows in Italy?  And with bells, of course.

Everywhere I looked was stunning.

Quite a tree-line!

After a long hard climb up a ski slope, we arrived at Refugio Scontoni.

It was here I learned of the local dialect: Ladinish, which was a combination of Italian, German and Latin...if I recall correctly.

It was nestled in a green bowl-like meadow encircled by HUGE limestone mountains.

We watched a rock climber as he made his way to the top of the cliff.

The five of us bunked together for the night in one room.

The Scontoni Chapel...

With the names of the local soldiers who died in WWI.

We were now near the front lines of the Austrian/Italian war.

A Mother's Gift- A Month in Italy- Part 4

The Hike

The night before we began our trek, I met my fellow hikers: Roberta & Mark, Laura and our leader: Andrea.  They were all warm and inviting. We shared a little about ourselves around the diner table.  Wine and pasta galore!

All of them were well traveled and Laura and Andrea were especially well adventured.  I shared about my mother, my five children, my husband and eventually Josh.

"FIVE CHILDREN!" they exclaimed.
Yes, five children.

 I had wanted to keep Josh's life private, but it just seemed to slip out near the end of our evening.
I went to bed that night excited, nervous and feeling overwhelmed.

I couldn't believe I was there.
I felt such gratitude, though stunned with the enormity of my life and the meaning of this adventure to me.
I cried.

In the morning, as we met for breakfast, each one pulled me aside, and in their own way, using their own words,  told me  how proud they were of me, how this trip was really a big deal and that they were so happy I was there.

I felt accepted.  I felt loved.
The "rightness" of this adventure confirmed.

Our first day of trekking felt short as it was only 5 miles with 1850 elevation gain.
We took a private taxi up the road to Ra Stua and were dropped off at the trail head.
We were hiking the Alta Via 1

We hiked up and up through a larch forest passing this sweet bench and alter.
We would see many benches and alters along the way.

Many natural spring fountains like this are found beside the trail systems and even in the villages.
Cold, fresh, pure water.

Each day we passed many different refugios, homes to the families that run them.
This young girl lives year round with her family caring for their cows and horses as well as guests.

The trails,  sometimes a road, were well marked.

Our first night was Refugio Fodara Vedla.

A little bar table with a view right outside the front door of the refugio.

Many of the huts were much plusher than I expected.
Andrea and I shared a room on the first night together.
We even had our own bathroom!

All the cows wore large alpine cow bells.
The sound was divine, stopping just at dusk.

A sweet outbuilding near Fodara Vedla.

Fodara Vedla Chapel

The view from the front porch.

Looking back at the refuge. 

A Mother's Gift--A Month in Italy--Part 3

Tofana Mezzo and Big Bird

Nerves filled my tummy as I set out for the tram.  I had scouted the area the day before, finding the place at the end of town.  It was near the old Olympic Ice Arena. 

Seems the winter Olympics were in Cortina d'Ampezzo in 1956.  I had seen the ski jump as I rode the bus into town.  Sadly, I never was able to take a picture of the jump.

I purchased my ticket, then waited with some German tourists.  It was a chance to practice my unused language skills.  

As we rode the tram up to the first stop, my legs shook.  I have a fear of heights and this tram seemed to be hanging by a thread as it traveled higher and higher up towards a sheer rock face. 

Our first stop...Refugio Col Drucie.  But we didn't stop there.  

We rode on up to Refugio Ra Vales.  

This is the view looking DOWN onto Refugio Col Drucie and Cortina d'Ampezzo!

Finally, we rode the tram to the TOP: Tofana Mezzo...

when I disembarked, I found these stairs.  Naturally, I walked up even higher...

to find this...

this...

and finally...THIS!

I soaked it all in for a LONG time.

GLORIOUS!

On the way down...

I stopped once again at Refugio Ra Vales.  And in this very spot, I met...

this delightful gentleman, Caroll and his wife.  

Caroll is non other than...BIG BIRD from Sesame Street!

 Read about him here: 

http://muppet.wikia.com/wiki/Caroll_Spinney

A Mother's Gift--A Month in Italy Part 2

Exploring on my own...oh and I don't speak Italian.

The hotel breakfast was fabulous.  Much more than the normal European coffee with bread.  I had fun hard boiling my own egg and sneaking a roll with slices of meat and cheese into a napkin on my lap, hidden for later. 

Exploring the village, I discovered the church. 

The pink ceiling was delightful.

I lit a candle for my mother thanking her for loving me and for her gift.

After talking with Roberta about some local hikes, I decided to walk the pedestrian path towards one of the stunning mountains encircling the town.

The towns people are proud of their alpine houses and their flower boxes.

Passing town, I came across a marked trail and so...I took it.
Punta Fiames...

And it led me here...and so I climbed up the loose, white limestone to touch the mountain.

Walking back to the village, I discovered wood carvers in the town square.

I window shopped and explored some more until dinner time and once again I ate alone sitting on my balcony watching the sun set on the mountain across the way.

I studied my map dreaming about the day to come.

 I was determined to figure out how to ride the tram to the top of Tofana Di Mezzo.

My Mother's Gift- A Month in Italy- Part 1

Somewhere  between  2004 and 2012, I lost my way.  No longer confident , not even sure who I was, questioning my faith, I wobbled on shaky legs through each day.  My mother's gift to me, upon her death, was a trip to Italy.  Planned by me, financed by the cash she had squirreled away in an envelope hidden in her dresser drawer.  Italy was the beginning of my journey back to confidence and much more.

Solo  - I've still got it!

I flew all on my own, a big girl of 52, I navigated the airports and plane changes and foreign languages.  Up until Italy, everything was orderly and logical.  Disembarking at Aeroporto di Venezia Marco Polo, I hit a wall of people; a chaotic crowd of Italians,shouting, gesturing, holding signs ---Italy! 

It was wonderful!

Marco Polo is quite a small airport for such a big destination.  After numerous questions posed to various Italians, all of which gave me different answers, I finally found my shuttle bus for my hotel.  

Awwww... a shower and bed.  

Dinner was difficult as Italian's don't eat until 7 or 8 pm.  It was 6 pm and I was starving.  I needed to eat and then crash.

The hotel bartender let me order a salad even though the restaurant was officially closed. I also ordered a glass of "vino rose", apologizing for my Italian, or lack of....

I learned by the expression on her face that trying was better than not.

A handsome gentlemen saluted me with his glass of wine and tried to converse with me.  

"No Italiano"  I said.

"Spanish?"  he asked.

"No, nur ein bissen Deutsche." I answered.

"Ugh! Deutsche!  No Deutsche!" he replied.

And so he pantomimed with Italian words mixed in and I laughed at the hilarity of it all. From his charades I discovered he drove for the airport and had stopped in for his glass of wine before heading home.  He followed me to my outside table and tried to chat some more.  I giggled and shrugged my shoulders. 

Finally, he said, "Probelmo, Problemo" with more Italian, then "Ciao!" and walked away.

"Ciao" handsome Italian man!

And I slept well.

In the morning, I rode the shuttle back to the airport to catch the Cortina Express bus for Cortina d'Ampezzo, a small, quaint, expensive ski village in the Dolomite Mountains. 

I waited FOUR HOURS for that bus! 

Ticket in hand, purchased online at home, the 11:30 bus never showed.  

I watched the crowds of travelers and buses not wasting a moment.  The smell of diesel, bodies and Venice in the air.  It was entertaining. Turns out not even the Italians understand their own bus systems. 

Many of them spoke to me asking for help!

An African man asked me for money. Seems he needed to buy a bus ticket to go visit his sick mother.

"Excuse me Madam" he said as he approached , "I need help."

"Well, I need help too!" I responded.  

He was speechless for a moment.

I didn't give him any money but about three hours later just as his bus arrived, I watched as another African man gave him the money he needed.  It was obvious they knew each other.  They both purchased their tickets and boarded their bus.  

Hmmm, a planned scam, perhaps?

Finally, I overheard two women speaking in English.  They were looking for the Cortina Express as well!  Sisters, one living in Australia and one in Ireland traveling with husbands and daughters, they too were headed for holiday.  

I was so happy to hear, see and share with them the wonders of the Italian bus system.

The Cortina Express left with us all aboard around 2:30 pm traveling across the flat green valley, but little by little it began to climb and when the first mountain was spotted jutting up ruggedly from the earth, excitement filled the bus.

The Dolomite Mountains

In two hours we arrived at the bus station in Cortina d'Ampezzo. I exited the bus with my written directions for my hotel in hand.  Slowly I walked with my backpack on my back,  messenger bag slung across my shoulder, rolling suitcase clunk, clunk, clunking down the cobblestone street.

Hotel Victoria 

My room was on the second floor, second balcony in from the right. 

Roberta, the concierge,

  was a wonderful, friendly young woman who grew up in Cortina, but had lived in California while working for Patagonia.  

After checking in, I explored the cobblestone streets stopping at the Coopertiva to buy a few groceries. 

That evening, as the sun was setting, I ate my dinner alone...at peace... on my balcony.

My view ...

Once again, I slept well.