My Mountains Were Waiting, I Got On My Way

"Ti inamorirai ancora di piu dell’Italia quando vedrai le Dolomiti"

I was warned, it’s true, that going to the Dolomites would surely make me fall in love with Italy even more. Perhaps it’s because I adore being in the mountains and admiring nature in this beautiful world, or perhaps because it was one more region, with a completely different set of characteristics, that I had yet to discover. Whatever the reason, it definitely happened on this trip to Scena – Merano, in the Trentino Alto Adige region.

This area is not one of the first few stops for Americans visiting Italy, perhaps because Italians have worked hard to keep it a secret, or maybe because it’s difficult to get there. Some say that if it was easy -- everyone would do it. Then of course there’s the surprise that even though you’re still in Italy, German is the primary language this far north. So this time I was no longer the mysterious non-Italian who speaks the language well, but I was the non-German-speaking straniera whose speaking Italian – even though in Italy – required finding someone who could at least converse in italiano.

This trip was exactly what I was hoping for, and helped me to remember a few things that I believe are essential in living a thriving life. First, to keep a bit of spontaneity in your life, to go on an adventure without knowing precisely where you’re going or how to get there, and to trust that you’ll end up exactly where you were meant to be. Second, which is also one of the pillars that Ariana Huffington discusses in “Thrive,” to live with a sense of wonder, to take the time to appreciate the beauty of the world around. Third, to listen to yourself and take care of yourself, and to take time to just do “you.”

You have to do a bit of trekking in the Dolomites. Whether you love the challenge of the climb, or you need a bit of exercise after the gelato and pasta, or you love walking in the mountains. Before I headed out to hike, I looked up some trails and maps, picked one that looked like it went high and ended with a funicular ride, and headed out hoping I would get there. No maps and no internet accompanied by a generally good sense of direction and a strong sense of adventure were my tools. Partway through, I had no idea if I was still heading in the right direction, but I ended up on the trail I had hoped to take, huffed and puffed my way up, and could not have been happier with the destination. It was surreal, and a pleasant reminder of why I want to always pursue adventure, even if I don’t know where the difficult or winding road may lead.

As long as I remember I have loved nature. The mountains though… I am completely enchanted by the mountains. You can have the greatest workout making your way to the tops, see millions of types of plants blossoming around each corner, have viewpoints that only get more and more spectacular every bit higher you go, and then you feel that wonderful sense of accomplishment when you reach the top and have the prize of the view and the air. If you’re really lucky, you get to spend some time in the clouds too. Then to sit at the summit, or in this case to look around the little (6 buildings specifically) alpine village of Taser and wonder what life would be like there. To look out and see the other mountain tops and realize how small we are and how big and amazing this round world really is.

A lot of my reasoning to come here was to take care of myself. I knew I needed some R&R, some time to do some soul searching, and some time to listen to my own thoughts without a million others – responsibilities, people, or news – running through my brain. Plus, this area is known for its spas, and I knew that a day at the Terme di Merano would be my way to relax. Saunas, pools, Jacuzzis, the snow room (only acceptable after a steam bath), bikram yoga, not knowing nor caring about the time, and soul detoxing were among the enjoyable amenities. That and the time alone on these few days, to think about and write my lists of what I’m searching for, noting what’s still important or what changes I want to make. That’s one of my favorite parts about the slowness in Italy – take the time you need, observe the good, cry for the sad - but eventually keep going. Though I didn’t meditate - per say - on this trip, my mind feels so clear, and I feel refreshed.

Safe to say that Italy has placed one more hook in me now, and I’ve fallen even harder for this paese spetacolare. I’ll be back to the Dolomites, absolutely. I’ll strive to live with a sense of adventure, wonder, and well-being, in the time that passes before I’m lucky enough to return to the beauty dei Dolomiti. Un posto dove l’orario si ferma, l’avventura c’è sul ogni montagne e dove si puo ascoltare alla natura e a te stesso.

Andiamo per Gelato

I have, likely since day one, been a complete chocoholic. My family could tell you embarrassing and funny stories about how obnoxious I used to be about it. Then the page turned, and quality became an important factor, and then I lived in Italy for a year and a half and saw how good gelato, chocolate, and other foodie things could be. Snob or not, I have definitely scoffed over the past three years, sometimes half joking, at all Italian wannabe foods negli stati uniti.

So when I came back this time around, I was wondering if I had remembered correctly. Could gelato and the rest of the food really have been as good as I used to think? Was it still on this pedestal made of gold with splashes of diamonds all placed on the beach and surrounded by mountains, or something just as good?

Yes, yes it is. There’s a certain magic to gelato here. Especially in the summer when it’s nice and hot out. You can ask the gelato masters why it’s so much better. You’ll get various answers ranging from the ingredients, the process, the family recipes, the machines, the texture, or the Italian love. I believe they all help in making it special and diverso. However, I believe that there’s one more piece that can’t be overlooked. It’s the setting.

Eating gelato while strolling around Piazza dal Duomo, admiring the cathedral that took over 400 years to build and doesn’t have 2 of the same stones nor designs. Then meandering into La Galleria di Vittorio Emanuele and seeing all of the shops yet envisioning what this grand mall must have looked like 200 years ago when it was lit by candlelight and had a ceiling of crystal. Then to walking towards La Scala and hearing, whether actually or from memory, the beautiful notes of some of the most talented opera singers performing heart-wrenching and soul-baring operas. Then strolling down a narrow cobblestoned alley to see the stores that have been there for hundreds of years.

Or when you’re lucky it’s when you finished a delicious pasta alla carbonara lunch with the newlyweds, recovering from a 16-hour wedding day; and your best friend’s new hubby knew you had a goal of having gelato every day so he got some for lunch. And you make affogato with coffee gelato covered by the Italian espresso that also is so much better than you remembered. Looking at pictures and videos, laughing at all of the stories that continue to pour in from the day before, enjoying every second with such dear friends, loving each aspect of life and not taking anything for granted, including your soupy coffee gelato.

It could also be while you’re navigating gli navigli, enjoying the views then walking by the church and dog park you used to live near, or walking down Via Dante with the Castello behind you and Duomo in front, stopping to sit at Piazza dei Mercanti since you know the secret of that little courtyard. All the while feeling as though you never left and that as much has changed and improved just as much hasn’t changed at all and will always be this special special place.

Or perhaps it’s while you’re waiting for your train in the hectic and bustling Stazione di Centrale, with people running every which way to catch their train. Some heading off to their work city; some, like me, in no rush at all and just waiting for my binario to be announced so I can hop on the first of a 3-leg train trip to the mountains. Taking an extra minute to try to find how this gelato can be this good. Then realizing that I don’t really want to find out how, because the magic of Italy will always be the secret ingredient, it will always be what makes gelato as good as it truly is.

So yes, I have had gelato every day so far, and yes, I will continue to do so until I leave. However, I’ve also run in the mornings or walked over 25,000 steps, or danced for hours. So tutto va benissimo. Plus, it’s kind of like the sunshine tax I pay in SoCal, except it’s much less expensive and it’s just as rewarding. La maggia del gelato sará sempre quello – un po di maggia e un po della bellezza dell’Italia. Brindisi al gelato. E adesso devo prendere anche il prosecco per il brindisi. Scusatemi.

Tribute to Nonno

I’ve always said that Italy can heal anything. Whether it’s stress, sadness, confusion, heartbreak, or exhaustion – Italy can make anything better. This time around, I’ll go to seek out those healing powers I always promoted. I’ve been looking forward to this trip to Italy for over a year. A dear friend’s marriage gave me the reason – not that I’m ever in need of an extra one – to make the trek back to my beloved Italy. However, the passing of my grandfather has made this trip more necessary than it already was.

This trip now becomes a tribute to my grandfather and a celebration of the incredible life of the patriarch of an exceptional family. My grandpa was an amazing man – he built and supported an amazing beautiful crazy Italian family, worked so hard and earned so much respect in his career, was a patriotic WWII veteran, he was a real educator, and he supported causes he believed in.

I will always fondly remember the time I attended a ceremony at The College at Brockport where my grandpa was honored for many of his accomplishments. So many people from different parts of his life showed up, so many people he hadn’t seen for long stretches of time. I saw the love and friendship in those relationships, and I listened to the memories he shared with me about each of them after catching up. He was a people person – his people meant so much to him. That’s just one of many special memories I’ll always carry.

Italy wouldn’t hold quite as much meaning for me as it does if it weren’t for my family’s Italian origins. Family is so important in Italian culture, and the more I’ve spent digging into the Italian culture I also happened to learn more about my family’s history. The opportunities I have had to meet some of my relatives in Italy have been some of the most special memories that I have. I know how much family and our family’s history meant to my grandpa, and I’ll look forward to carrying that value forever.

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So this next trip to Italy, this one’s for you, Nonno. Thank you for your support, encouragement, and everything you taught me over the years. Your legacy will live forever among our family, as we all love and respected you so much. Thank you for the beautiful family you built and for instilling such cherished values. And, not that you had too much control over it, but thank you for being Italian and for passing those origins down. I’ll hold them dear to my heart forever, as I will you. Whether it will be from the Duomo in Milano or from the little alpine village in the Dolomites, I’ll say a few prayers for you on this special trip. Grazie mille nonno. Ti voglio molto bene.