A Week in Italian Paradise

I always had a feeling I would love Italy – any country that makes good food, wine and coffee sacred is my kind of place. Of course one of the best things about my trip was the fabulous Danes I was skiing with, but I’ll get to them later. Let’s start at the beginning….

On the airplane I met one of the nicest people in the world - Ben. I didn’t know this when he sat down next to me, but we hadn’t been chatting more than a few minutes before he offered to show me around Milano the next day. When we got off the plane he offered me a lift into the city and his mom even took us out for delicious pizza in the old city of Bergamo.

The next day I got up early to wander the sunny, but chilly, streets of Milano. I had delicious espresso and a croissant for breakfast (twice!) and figured out how to take the Metro. I had to ask a few people for directions, but even the Italians who couldn’t speak much English were very helpful (hand gestures are generally universal and Italians are good at talking with their hands). At lunch time I met Ben who took me to this remarkable little restaurant, which as a tourist I never would have found on my own. I told him that it was so ‘authentic’ and he said that’s because it is! As I ate the best risotto ever, I learned more about Italian food than I knew was to know. It was a perfect meal.

After lunch we went to the Domu – this remarkable gothic cathedral that rises out of center of Milano. Inside the sun shone through the massive stain glass windows sending rainbow reflections on to the marble pillars. It was the type of place that makes you catch your breath.
But the really breath taking beauty was on the top of the Domu. After climbing a long spiral stone stair case we emerged between the pillars, gargoyls and golden statues. Milano stretched out before us – now I was really breathless.

Next we went to the Castelo, a huge ancient fortress in which I could almost see Don Giovanni galloping through on a dark stead, through a lovely park and down the winding cobbled streets. That evening we had a drink by the river and I felt very spoilt to have had such a perfect day in Milano.

The next day I was up early and on the bus to Canazie, in the Italian alps. I was surprised to see vineyards so far North, but thought the little villages at the foot of the Mounties, with square church spires poking out, looked just like they were out of a picture book. As we approached the resort the mountains got bigger and the road twisted and turned. I had expected the mountains to remind me of home but they didn’t. They were some how harder, more stern and more jagged than the wrinkly coast mountains in Canada.

So I found myself on one such mountain, skis in hand, searching faces for the Clausens, who I hadn’t seen in 12 years. I recognized Karen’s smile instantly and soon Thomas was there to. It was just like being reunited with family. We had a lovely skiing afternoon – It felt like being a home to have to slippery sticks strapped to my feet again.

The next day Peter Michael showed up and his he skied down towards, big smile shining, I thought he looked just like the 17 year old who had lived with us 15 odd years ago. Of course he is actually a bit more mature looking now, but he was still just like a big brother to me.

Now I must explain something about skiing in Europe for the North Americas out there…. Well when I go skiing in Canada with my Dad and my sister in Canada they always promise lots of hot chocolate breaks but then make me hike over mountains instead, in search of ‘fresh tracks’, ‘the best powder’ and other elusive dreams. As a result I might get one hot chocolate break at the very end of the day if I’m lucky. Well in Europe we stopped as much as we want and not only for hot chocolate – for beer (at 10am!), warm wine, or this sweet tea with very strong rum in it. We had big relaxing lunches and took everything nice and easy – it was divine! Kind of like skiing in paradise, with the mountain views, great company and good food.

There is another cultural aspect of skiing I feel responsible to share – that is the Apres Ski culture. As you can guess from the name, this ritual takes place at the end of the ski day and once again includes drinking yummy drinks, chatting and relaxing. Peter Michael told me it is very important to keep you ski boots on during Apres Ski, otherwise it’s just drinking : )

So five days past way too fast with the wonderful Clausens and their fellow Danes. I felt completely spoilt by the great company, soft snow and sunshine. I really didn’t want to leave, but alas I had to. I headed back to Milano where I had a final lovely Italian meal, and then it was back to reality.

The only disappointment to the whole trip was that my camera battery was dead on arrival and I forgot the charger so I don’t have any photos to remember one of the most relaxing, fun weeks of my life. I’ll just have to day dream about it instead.