Italy
Dolomites
Day 4.
Passing into mountains, through villages on steep slopes, perfectly Austrian. South Tyrol was given by war to Italy but clings to its traditions nonetheless. Wisps of cloud parted and gave us views of the magnificence. The day ended with celebration as we met our friends, drank and feasted.
Dolomites, oh Dolomites
We long to see your soaring heights
Your granite peaks peek out so high
For this we’ve traveled far and wide
Dolomites, oh Dolomites
The rain it pours
And we are wet
And yet
It’s not easy to forget
That you are gray and tall
And there for all
Day 5.
Hungover and guided by Uwe we took a gondola ride up and up. On either side of us we could see the jagged edges of the mountains that were once ancient coral reefs and sea beds, now pale peaks. The day was cold air, hot sun, scree and Alpine flowers. It was the astounding beauty of Corvara and it overloaded our senses.
Uwe is Ulla’s fate
Of this there’s no debate
They climb great mountains high
They walk green meadows far
They descend high rocky paths
They make the time pass fast
They both are kind and free
And from me I say to thee
Uwe is Ulla’s fate
Of this there is no debate
Day 6.
Again up, up and up we went on a gondola, then a ski chair lift to a giant rocky amphitheater of white dolomite rock. Tiny climbers were distant dots on the cliff face. We could just spot them by their bright colored clothing as they slowly ascended. Brave adventurers jumped off into the void strapped to paragliders, then circled like raptors into the blue.
Below us the green mountains were crisscrossed with ski-runs and dotted with Refugios. We hiked down through spruce forest and up to a wooden hut covered in petunias and geraniums. The people clapped and smiled, and the band played umpapa music. Swilling beer in the warm mountain sun it was strange to think we were in Italy. The waiters were in traditional Austrian dress, the band in lederhosen.
We made our way back to our hotel via meadows filled with flowers. We passed an elderly couple cutting hay in a paddock outside their crumbling farmhouse. It seemed a small vestige of an ancient way of life among all the ski lodges and manicured houses surrounding them.
Jimmi at Sassongher
We care for you no longer
Edelweiss and Lagazuoi
We walked and made our ploy
But Marmolada how can we
Forget a mammoth such as thee
You overlooked a war so cruel
It made us seem all fools
Oh, majestic mountain high
Marmolada, you’ll never die
Day 7.
Our last day in Corvara and our last day of being with friends and being guided by them to amazing mountain hikes. In 1914-18 the Austro-Hungarian army defended the border high up in the Dolomites. The remains of war are high up in the peaks and crests of Lagazuoi. We took another gondola up to the very top peak and explored the tunnels where men shot at each other and dropped as many explosives as they could lay their hands on. This is a strange place.
Again, we found ourselves among vast rock amphitheaters, pale rocks around us. At the end of the day we returned with sore feet and happy hearts. We soaked our tired muscles in the hotel spa. While we were soaking, discretely dress in bathers, the fire alarm sounded. A dozen naked people appeared from the steam. We realized that we were out of place and so took off our clothes and joined in the nude tradition. It was good to feel so naked and so comfortable.
You make the world much clearer
Your limestone mountains rise
So high into the skies
Your grassy fields abound
Your villages so fine
The Dolomites your star
Dear Corvara in Badia
We’re so happy to be here-a
Day 8.
We said goodbye to friends and set off alone again. We spent the day travelling to the Brenta Dolomites to the sweet Italian town of Molveno. This place felt really Italian somehow and no longer Austrian. Not quite so clean and neat, fewer window boxes of geraniums. A bit less polished overall.
The Molveno lake is surrounded by mountains and again we were thrilled to see the tooth-like jagged edges of the mighty Dolomites.
No-one here speaks much English and we like that. We ate with the other hotel guests and then settled to deep sleep.
Molveno by your lake
Surrounded by mountains of chalk
We come to you to walk
It’s not about the talk
It’s not about your food
Although we cannot brood
Your waters are so blue
Your village is so steep
Your beauty overwhelms
Molveno by your lake
Day 9.
Striking out alone for the first time in these mountains we took a gondola up above the town and walked Refugio to Refugio, far up above the valley below and where still the massive cliffs loomed above us.
A Rifugio takes the load you know
An oasis in the sky
We walk all day
And climb some too
Until we have no breath
And there before our eyes appears
A sight we can’t regret
Rifugio, oh Rifugio
Your cappuccino get
We tramped along revived by the beauty and the cappuccinos at the refugios. There were signs to warn us of bears, actually a welcome warning in a place were so little wildlife was apparent to us. We heard birdsong in the forest and walked among the green and moist unfamiliar plants.
Adamello-Brenta
Your park we won’t forget-a
Mount Pradel so high
Your craggy peaks surround
The beauty of Lake Molveno
Adamello-Brenta
On this you can-a bet-a
We never will forget-a
The grandeur of your park
Day 10.
Ice cream, wine, bruschetta, pasta, beer, croissants and more. We are in a holiday maker’s zone filled with stuff to consume all brought to us by others.
All the other people in our hotel are German or Italian speaking and we are alone in their midst. It feels good to be surrounded by our fellow tourists and to enjoy our dinner in their company. This was our last day in the dolomites and we each tried in our own way to capture the last drops of beauty. We enjoyed this craggy, green, ancient place.
We say farewell Molveno
Tomorrow we’ll not see you
Last night amongst your ridges
But we’ll not burn our bridges
One day we may return
Until then do please remain
Collect your solar power
And sleep your midday hours
Your lake
Keep it so blue
We will return to you