August 7, 2012

Cortina - La Dolce Vita

Cortina is really two places, an upscale mountain resort town with wealthy Italians who dress to be seen and the center for world class hiking, cycling and winter sports.  Needless to say, I fit in neither category but have enjoyed watching these two worlds mix (if not collide) for the past few days.

Yesterday, I set off with my guide, Isabelle, for the first of several day hikes near Cortina.  Isabelle is a Brit who relocated to Italy many years ago and is now settled near Cortina with a work life divided between guiding hikes (both groups and individuals) and acting as a translator.  She knows and loves the area and has a deep knowledge of its history, politics, ecology and pathways.

Our first day was centered on the Prato Piazza, a high mountain meadow surrounded by peaks and a favorite for locals because of its simple, warm beauty.  After a steady hike up, we reached the broad meadow and turned around to see the Croda Rossa (10,300 feet) to the west, so named for its reddish color, the result of iron leaching from some of the many sedimentary layers that are characteristic of this region.

We crossed the valley and stopped at a refugio for a coffee.  Refugio were originally like huts in Switzerland, remote shelters that hikers and climbers could use for a safe night's rest.  In this area, though, they have evolved into far more.  By law, refugio must still accommodate all those who wish to stay overnight, even that means putting them on the floor in the dormitory with a blanket.  Today, though, the main focus for the refugio is food and drink for visitors, whether hikers or simply those who drive or take a tram up.  Over 70 refugio are scattered in and around Cortina, many serving superb food, usually traditional in nature, with some blend of Italian and South Tyrolean food.

Isabelle explained how the German-speaking South Tyroleans who live between Cortina and the Austrian border are a small minority in Italy who are resentful of a 70-year history of fairly poor treatment at the hands of the Italians who won the territory in the aftermath of World War I.  Only with the current generation is there much intermarriage while affirmative action quotas seeking to rectify past discrimination create resentment among those in traditionally Italian areas.  Sound familiar?

Near the top of the ridge overlooking the Prato Piazza, we passed an old WWI Austrian fort placed to guard a pass to what was then Austrian territory to the north.  These show the view north toward the Austrian Alps (some with snow) and the fort itself.  No, the stroller is not left over from the war.

At the top of the ridge, we had a nice view of the entire area, including to the southeast, where the iconic Tre Cime di Lavaredo looms.  The Tre Cime is considered by many to be the classic Dolomite mountain; this picture does not really capture its ragged beauty but hopefully future days will bring me closer.

Many Dolomite ranges have this craggy appearance because of the sedimentary nature of rock in the region that was lifted tens of millions of years ago when the continents of Europe and Africa collided.  The Dolomite Mountains have been eroded fairly rapidly as pieces of the sedimentary rock fall off, creating the jagged edges seen here thrusting above mounds of sediment thrown off over the eons.

After another hour of hiking, we stopped for a late lunch at the Refugio Villandro, where I had a classic local mash-up dish of goulash (reflecting the Tyrolean influence) with polenta (Italian).  From there we had a long walk down, mostly through forest but passing more Austrian fortifications, including this stone trench.

The WWI struggle between the Austro-Hungarians and the Italians was an important component of Hemingway's A Farewell to Arms, which is now in my queue to re-read.

Last night, I enjoyed dinner at a local restaurant known, (as many are) for its awesome pizza, delivered piping hot from a wood-fired oven.  The place seemed to be a hangout for guides from the nearby climbing guide outfit.  Naturally, I had the pizza "Alpino," a dizzyingly delicious combination of mozzarella, speck (sliced smoked ham), gorgonzola and local mushrooms.  As they say, OMFG!

Today we went west instead of north, driving up to park in the shadow of the Croda Negra and the famous Cinque Torri, a collection of five peaks that are slowly disappearing due to erosion.  After a stop for coffee at the local refugio, which had an amazing gift shop featuring everything from cloying linens to grappa, we headed up toward the Col de Bos, a stalwart peak standing attention over the valley and hikers like us.

On the way up, we saw a large group of climbers taking a via ferrata (fixed line) route up the Col de Bos.  The fixed lines, usually heavy steel wire, hold climbers by lines attached to harnesses, a far safer means of climbing than the normal method involving ropes placed by the higher climbers.  I am hoping to do a relatively easy via ferrata climb on Friday or Saturday.

Looking across the valley, we saw what seemed to me an immense herd of sheep swarming up the hillside, a few dogs keeping them in line.

The peaks of Tufano di Rozes above us kept to the classic Dolomite sawtooth formation while across the valley the Cinque Terre peaks stayed in view as we circled around the col.

We took an early (12:30) lunch at Refugio A. Dibona, named after a well-known local guide.  An omlette of eggs, speck and potatoes d'Ampezzan was the perfect combination of carbs and protein.

After lunch, we continued to circumnavigate the mountain chain, coming to our first Italian military facility from the Great War, a crumbling former hospital.

The day was mostly clear but large clumps of clouds grazing the looming mountain walls a slightly mystical flavor.

We climbed up some patchy, scrambly sections of this next valley to reach a ledge before the mountains went completely vertical.

Curling around the right side of this group, we finally caught view of Cortina as it sits at the foot of an array of grey, craggy peaks.

Our trip down was steep, often following the winding path of a black diamond ski run, culminating the the slowly decomposing bob sled run from the 1956 Winter Olympics, which still produces some worrying curves.

By now we were close to town and I arrived at my hotel happy for the opportunity to remove my boots.  Dinner was at the Croda Cafe, where on Isabelle's suggestion I had a local speciality, pasta shaped like pockets filled with beetroot, topped with parmesan cheese and poppy seeds - another successful mashup of regional influences.

As I watched the holiday crowds mill by, I felt like the only American in town, my lack of Italian more obvious than ever.  I am hoping tomorrow's group tour of WWI sites gives me more opportunity to use my famous conversational skills!