There must be a scientific reason why train journeys pass quicker in Frida's company, but I'm damned if I know what it is...
After arriving in Roverto we met Cinzia, Frida's oldest sister. The girls were more than pleased to sate my Appetite for Destruction by taking me to see the Maria Dolen, the massive bell on the hillside forged from the cannons of the First World War. The bell is the largest outside of Russia and Asia and rings everyday for Peace.You can ring my beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeell, ring my bell...
After which, despite my protestations they would be bored, the girls allowed me to indulge myself in the Museo Storico Italiano Della Guerra and the attached Artillery Museum. Man, what a great collection of killing stuff. I can spend days looking at instruments created for wholesale destruction, but after a while Cinzia was suffering from war fatigue. Frida, on the other hand, was taking an even more deeper interest than me. She seemed to be reading every caption on the displays. I, on the other hand, was at a slight disadvantage, as they were all in Italian and the only Italian words Frida had taught me was Porco Cane and Mamma Mia!
Frida does a good impression of being interested in War things!!
Arrival at the Pellegrino household was heralded by champagne corks popping, not a common occurrence I was told, so I felt privileged. Frida had told me that I was expected to teach English to her extended family. She said I was to give a speech in the town square and hoped that I had prepared something for it. Of course she was joking but when we arrived the entire family turned out to see the 'parlante Inglese'. Her uncles, aunts and cousins all came to look at me. The vast family had a barbecue and I was fed massive quantities of meat and booze all night. This was to become a fixture for the following week, Frida's mum would pile great tasting food on my plate whilst her father plied me with booze. An amusing anecdote: When we were in Padova Frida had mentioned going to MacDonald's for food. I immediately protested, asking her why would she rather eat meat flavoured sawdust than the beautiful food served up in Italy, to which she answered 'MacDonald's is Ethnic.' Priceless.
An unfortunate anagram of 'Ailing Vomit'...
With an early start, the next morning had been earmarked to tackle the hitherto unscaled heights of Mandrone Glacier, part of the Adamello mountain range. I had been led to believe this giant beast had never been tackled by humans before. We were to be the first to set foot on it's dizzying summit. A task unequalled proportions lay before us. I packed for the task, like Scott of the Antarctic, with bottled water, sun cream and an extra sweater. The first task was to gain entry to the park without paying for parking, a task made easy by zooming past the parking attendant at the gate at about 140kph. Frida and I were joined by Frida's sister Jessica, her boyfriend Emanuele (who was driving and had gained us free entry...) and their friend Stephano. Also along for the ride was Cinzia and her boyfriend Phillipe, whom we met later. This plucky band readied ourselves for the toughest challenge of our lives.
Frida is not daunted by the news that a party of German Mountaineers had died the previous day, attempting the fabled 'Mandrone Death Trap'...
Only the silent mountain knew how many had tried and how many had died attempting to tame this beast
The going was tough from the start, at the third camp we were forced to eat the Porters who had accompanied us on the journey.
Frida, after having enjoyed a meal of lightly braised porter
We passed graves of First World war Soldiers who had died on the route to the top
Finally we reached the roof of the world, the first ever to make it to the top. We celebrated by having a drink and a three hour long lunch at the refuge. After Emanuele had pointed where the Great War trench lines ran across the mountain tops we set off back down the mountain, weaker but wiser.
Conquered for the first time in Human history, Mandrone was no longer the oppressive beast shadowing the valley in death
Pah, Italy, who'd ever want to go there?
Monday was spent recovering and taking Lorena (Frida's other sister; If you're wondering, she has three sisters and one brother. Her father gets a hard time...) and her two kids out for a walk. Two year old Martina demanded to see horses the entire time until she was placated with a visit to a wooden hut. Tuesday found Frida and I walking down the Val Di Fumo, to find more First World War battlefields. Frida was also fixated on locating Care Alto, (Editor Update: my sources tell me Frida was fixated on locating Cavento, not Care Alto. My bad) much like Martina was fixated on locating horses, but there was no wooden huts around to placate her.We went to Val Di Fumo as Frida's father was building a cow shed there and could drop us off for the day to walk the length of the valley. After climbing up several large rocks, photographing flowers at Frida's demand and seeing only a school party we arrived at the end of the valley and the stood on snow that still hadn't melted since winter. With the source of the Chiese located, our work was done and we walked back.
'Take a photo of the flowers'
'But I don't want to take a photo of the flowers'
'Take a photo of the flowers or I will get my father's Sicilian Mafia connections to get you.'
I took a photo of the flowers
'But I don't want to take a photo of the flowers'
'Take a photo of the flowers or I will get my father's Sicilian Mafia connections to get you.'
I took a photo of the flowers
The mysterious source of the Chiese had been uncovered by the intrepid travellers
OK, there is still more to go, but to keep these posts short I will publish the last one soon, so hold on for further entertainment...
1 comment:
I think Frida's dad should have you whacked.
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