Friday, September 11, 2015

Italy Day 7: Lunch Under A Mountain Pass

Something about this place makes it either way too easy to sleep in or way too hard to wake up early.  9am, it's an improvement, but still leaves me feeling that I wasted some valuable time. I rationalize our tardiness by telling myself we're saving our energy for the bustling city life that awaits us.  But I don't need to rationalize anything. We're just going with the flow, and it feels great.

Oh, I should mention a slight change of plans.  So the forecast has warned of precipitation, a rain that I'm sure will be much colder (read: less pleasant) than that which we frolicked through in Venice.  This left us wondering what we would do on a socked-in rainy day with no car.  Out of curiosity, we reached out to our host in Florence to see if he would be able to accommodate us a day early.  And just our luck, Thursday is the one free night he has in September, and he graciously invited us to come a day early! 

On one hand, I am truly sad to be leaving these glorious mountains a day early.  There's no place like this, and we have cherished every moment.  But rather than spend our last day stuck inside our apartment wishing we were out doing something fun, we thought making our rainy day a travel day was a good idea!  An extra day in Florence never hurt anyone anyway.

As for the day's events, with another breakfast of fresh rolls, mortadella, and fruit, we packed up our backpack and headed up the road on our way up toward Passo Ombretta, the pass nestled beneath the sheer face of Marmolada.  The route took us through the ice canyon again, and it was almost as exciting as the first time we passed through.  At Malga Ciapela, we took a left this time, and headed up the road toward the agriturismo, or farmhouse.  We had been looking forward to checking this place out, sampling the local farm products, but neither of us was particularly hungry for meat or cheese at this point in our hike.  So instead, poked around briefly, admiring the serenity of the place, and moved on up the road.  

Beer garden and pizzeria before the farmhouse 

On the climb up to Malga Ombretta

Maddie overlooking the valley below

Soon the road became a progressively steeper gravelly hill, and our hiking muscles really kicked into gear.  As the ominous layers of clouds thickened and swirled above us, there was a small hint of urgency--nothing that we worried too much about, as we came prepared for the rain, but enough to keep us going at a steady pace.  The trail leveled out after a little bit, and we began a series of switchbacks that gave sweeping panoramic views of the valley, the occasional streak of sunlight piercing through the cloud cover.  It was incredible walking along the rocky ledge trail, and we couldn't help stopping occasionally to admire the sounds of the gushing river and take photos.  

Smile

Us 

Scott's pretty stoked

We climbed for what felt like quite a while, almost an hour and change, before the trail rounded a corner and plateaued into a gorgeous meadow that stretched upward along the slopes of the adjacent mountains.  This grassy landscape from afar looks to me like a beautiful yellow-green algae or moss draped over the hills and peaks.  With wispy clouds tickling the mountain tops, the scenery could not have felt more dramatic.  There were a few cows and a lone person, a man, pushing a wheelbarrow and shoveling maneuver, and behind him appeared 3 small, unimposing structures, signifying we had finally reached Malga Ombretta.  

It only took me a hundred tries to convince her to pose for this picture


Unsure if the tiny establishment would be open, we approached what we guessed was the eatery, and entered quietly. Inside I could hear activity upstairs, and before me across the counter was a spacious kitchen area.  After a few calls of "bongiorno!", first timid and meek, and finally loud and confident, I eventually got the attention of a plump smiling woman out of the back room.  She rushed out to meet me, and we exchanged greetings, and I did my best in Italian to convey our order.  One cheese panini for Maddie, one speck panini for me, 2 cups of tea, and 5 postcards.  We sat at the only table in the entry way the size of most people's idea of a half-bathroom or medium sized closet, and we waited happily for our meal.

Heavenly

I watched the woman as she took a gigantic knife to an even more gargantuan block of cheese, almost cartoonishly proportioned, and carved slice after delicate slice of mouth-watering speck.  The tea was a welcome jolt of warmth and comfort as the chilling mountain air crept in the open doorway.  But the stars of the shows were the paninis--our ignorance should be noted here, as our idea of a panini is a hot, pressed sandwich, but apparently it's just a sandwich?  Still looking for confirmation on this.  Though not pressed, the sandwiches were incredibly delicious. Simple. Two ingredients each. No frills. Just bread and a generous portion of meat or cheese.  A perfect pairing with the naked landscape just beyond our doorstep.  

It was the third day in a row we each couldn't help but laugh with giddiness at actually being here in this place.  Moment savored.  We finished our meal, payed, and continued up the trail to explore the views north to Passo Ombretta.  If the rain hadn't been threatening the entire day, we might have made a go at the pass, but our instincts said to turn back.  About 15 minutes down the mountain, and I realized I had forgotten my postcards.  At first I was furious with myself for forgetting these beautiful postcards from such a unique, difficult to reach place...but then I took a step back and decided instead to think of it as a generous tip for our wonderful meal.  All is right with the world.

Just admiring

Looking up at Marmolada, where we were on Monday

Time to head back down

Descending the switchbacks, alternating between talking to Maddie and nearing the end of Gone Girl, I felt so lucky to be here.  It wasn't long before we passed the farmhouse, entered the ice canyon hand in hand, and finally ambled into Sottoguda, just as a few drops of rain lightly came down overhead.  We stopped at the few shops in the village, marveling at the incredible iron workshop, with their wares showcased next door. It was the kind of place my parents would have gone nuts in, as if they don't have enough napkin holders and picture frames.  It was very cool to go from peering one's head inside the metal shop and watching the man slaving away at his craft, to perusing the walls of his finished products next door.  We also made a brief stop inside an inviting wood-worker's shop, but upon realizing a vast majority of the work was, if not a graphic depiction of Jesus on the cross, then another religious motif, we saw nothing really piqued our interest. It was certainly impressive work, but just not our style.  

On our way down 

A map of our area

Ingenious use for old hiking boots

Some amazing metalwork done here

Kinda creepy, but still pretty cool to watch it get made

Finally we stumbled into our BnB around 5:30pm, proud and satisfied with our long day of trekking and exploring.  Then Maddie talked me into going up to the pizza place from the night before and bringing us home pizza take-out.  So audiobook in ear, I journeyed out alone to fetch us dinner.  Side note on Gone Girl without giving anything away: that ending was the WORST ENDING EVER. That's all I will say on the subject.

Two vegetarian pizzas, a couple glasses of wine, and we were ready to pack our bags and get ready for our morning trip to Florence!  I cannot express how magical this mountainous segment of our trip has been--how magical the trip as a whole has been.  I will most definitely be planning a return trip to the Dolomites, likely in the form of a refugio, or hut-to-hut, backpacking journey.  Hopefully I'll be able to post these blogs when I have a better wifi connection in Florence! 

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