prato nevoso.
Thanks to a chance meeting in Austin Texas over a year ago, I had the pleasure of introducing myself to some Italians that were visiting the area looking to apply to the University. We hit it off instantly and hung out a bit over the summer but they soon returned to their native land and we kept in touch via Facebook. Several months later I was applying to my university outside of Torino only to remember my italian friends were from the same city! This connection has been invaluable as one of them picked me up from the airport upon my arrival in August, the other housed me in their family's apartment my first night. My friend's brother, Stefano, and his girlfriend Giulia have truly been saints since my arrival. They've met me several times in the city center to have drinks, they lent their apartment to my roommate's boyfriend for a week when he was visiting and most recently they invited me and my roommates to join them skiing. All without asking anything in return!
me, ricarda and natalie at the table.
Stefano and Giulia organized a weekend in the mountains for me and my 3 roommates - Saturday evening they picked us up from the train station in Savigliano, a town 40 minutes south of Torino. We drove with them to Giulia's grandmother's house in Dronero, another 30 minutes by car, and they had prepared everything. In all there were 8 of us, and Giulia set the table and served us salami, bruschetta, potato dumplings and even cannoli her grandmother made (omg, so good) and tiramisu which is a family recipe. We sat around eating together, drinking wine, laughing, speaking Italian, trying to learn the Piedmontese dialect. Their friends Ottaviano and Roberto started playing guitar and singing in English (hilarious, btw when Italians sing in English because they make up words), it was so much fun.
there are no words.
We drove the next day to Prato Nevoso in the Italian Alps and the drive alone was worth the trip. Everything was covered in snow, we were winding up hills and admiring the landscape. When we arrived we rented all the necessary equipment and got out on the baby hill. Beginners have to start slow, you know. Technically we should've had an instructor, but I chose to invest in a helmet instead.
The little village was so beautiful, tucked into a valley of the Alps, lined with triangular lodges and dotted with anxious winter sport adventure-seekers. We stayed on the baby hill for a while testing out our skills, then Roberto convinced us we should go up the mountain to the intermediate hill. I don't know what he was thinking because none of us were remotely experienced enough to descend that mountain. But we eagerly agreed, confident in what we accomplished on the baby hill. Next thing I know I'm being pushed onto a conveyor belt and slammed back into the ski lift, up the mountain I go! I started to get really nervous looking down at the other, more experienced skiers and snowboarders. But just as we got high enough in the air to view the crest of the mountain, something incredible happened.
view from the lift.
I looked around me and everything was covered in white, the mountains, the valleys, the distant landscape. Everything was so quiet, so serene, so utterly beautiful. My chest started filling up with air and I was smiling like I'd never smiled before. Maybe it was the lack of oxygen due to altitude or something, but I really felt something happen to me. It was a strange sense of euphoria just realizing where I was, what I was doing, how blessed I was, and how beautiful my surroundings were. It's going to sound super lame, but I experienced some truly pure form of happiness on that mountain. I couldn't stop smiling. I felt an indescribable sense of fulfillment and joy in that moment, but unlike anything I've ever felt before.
realizing the true meaning of "breathtaking."
Soon we were shoved off the lift and onto the top of the mountain, but I must have timed everything wrong because I fell flat on my butt and slid down about 5 meters knocking into the other girls and we all went down like dominos. Poor Roby had to try to manage all of us fledgling skiers and once we were up, we trudged over to the first drop point - it was an angle of definitely more than 45 degrees, but for some reason I was still in that goofy state of euphoria and I told the girls "we can do this, we can totally do this!" I went first and launched myself off the hill and PLOP!, fell on my butt again only to slide down the first hill until my skis stopped me. And honestly all I could do was laugh! I got myself up, managed to make it to the next drop only to look back and see the girls each on their butts unable to get up. I kept going, smiling ear to ear, falling every 20 meters and looking like a bow-legged granny while 9-year-olds passed me going top speed. I had a blast. I still can't explain that feeling I had, as it was unique to that singular experience, but I made it to the bottom while the other girls had to take off their skis and walk down the mountain.
proud of myself for making it to the bottom unscathed.
The trip to the Alps was priceless - in the sense that I felt a genuine joy within myself that was augmented by the beauty surrounding me, and also because of the selfless individuals around me. Stefano and Guilia organized the trip for me and my roommates (some girls they'd never met), fed them, housed them, and took them skiing only because they wanted to. I can't say I've known that kind of hospitality very often in my life. What a lovely memory I'll have of this weekend, the snow, the mountain, the company - you can't put a price on true happiness.
