The Italian Alps in February

As winter settled in on our first year living in Italy, my husband began to turn his sights on snow boarding in the Italian Alps. Every year as he anticipates the first snow fall he starts to get the itch to strap on his snow board and hit the tree runs. He watches each snow fall with keen interest and studies carefully the snow pack. Having grown up in Northern California he became very good at snow boarding, even working for part of his teenage years at a ski resort in the Sierra Mountains. 

I too spent my teenage years skiing in the California Sierra Nevadas, but as adulthood settled in I began to view skiing as cold, costly, strenuous and fraught with disaster. I usually join him once a year just to experience nature, snow and to ensure I still could do it. So when he started to plan our Alps trip I must admit I felt some fear and trepidation with the idea of skiing in the Alps.

Soon the day came and we headed up the peninsula that is the country of Italy. From Nettuno to the Alps is about an 8 hour drive. We started by approaching the familiar and congested area of Rome and then several hours later we were traveling through the beautiful hills of Tuscany. Normally a verdant area, in mid February Tuscany was covered in bare deciduous trees. It was still breathtaking with the classic stately Cyprus trees lining the driveways up to the villas perched on hilltops. After passing through Florence we crossed the Apennine Mountain range that runs like a spine down the center of Italy. You cannot travel from Florence to Bologna without crossing these mountains. We experienced a snow flurry as we crossed the pass and watched our terrain change from a dry valley climate to a snowy wonderland but the Autostrada carried us safely and speedily through.

We traveled through the beautiful city of Verona at the base of the Alps on our way to Trento. We marveled at the beauty of the Alps with the looming mountains and quaint tiny towns. As is usual in Italy there are always castles, fortresses and villas reminding us of the Kingdoms and fiefdoms that ruled this peninsula long before it was called “Italy”.

As we approached our destination of Dimaro, the town we would be staying in during our ski vacation in the Alps, we noticed the little valley nestled in the Alps was dotted in terraced apple trees. It was called Valle di Sol (Valley of the Sun) and was a Region known for its apples and apple juice! I was very impressed by the trees that had been carefully pruned and groomed to cling tightly to a frame. The entire apple orchard was row after row of apple trees pruned in the Espariel tradition, meaning were trained to grow along a trellis. On this day in February, the trees were still bare, devoid of leaves, clinging to their frame. I thought of how beautiful they must be in the Spring when they were covered in delicate blossoms scenting the air with their perfume, or in the Fall when they were covered in shiny apples and green foliage.

The houses had changed from the normal stone Italian style to an A-frame roof so characteristic of areas that receive heavy snow fall. The buildings looked more like Germany or Switzerland than Italy which confirmed that we had entered the Alps which create the natural border between these countries. Soon we were arriving at our snow covered town of Dimaro. 

The streets were covered with snow and the pointy roof buildings all had a blanket of snow on their rooftops. The store fronts were lit up and cast a warm glow from inside inviting us to come in. The people were walking around in their snow gear reminding us that this was a ski destination. We stopped into a market and bought supplies for our Airbnb. Polenta, butter, cheese, salami, apple strudel and apple juice.

We chose our Airbnb based on its proximity to the ski resort and shuttle service and on the fact that it has a spa to soothe our weary muscles after a long day of skiing and boarding. It was actually a camping area with a year round clientele that enjoyed winter sports as well as summer hiking in the Alps. It was composed of little wood bungalows nestled in the snow.

That first evening we dined on Polenta, sausage and sauerkraut, a change from our normal Italian cuisine but very typical for this region so close to the Border. We went to bed early in anticipation of our big ski day the following morning.

There are many ski resorts in the Italian Alps, the one we chose was quite large and encompasses many small towns nestled in the Alps. So you could actually enter the ski resort from many entrance points and ski or board from town to town. Each town had it’s own lodge and restaurant and ski runs. The Gondola and ski lifts were very modern and well maintained. We were surprised that the lift tickets were so inexpensive compared with California. In California we pay $148 each per day for Heavenly Resort and only paid $160 for a two day pass that gave us access to all of the towns. I learned the reason for this is each town controls its own lifts and grooming while all of the ski resorts in California are Federal land and must be maintained by the same organization.

We thoroughly loved our views and runs as we traversed from town to town enjoying Bomdardinos (a hot drink made of rum, sugar and egg yolk) and cappuccini in the various town lodges. I noticed that Italian skiers like the “Apres” (after or during ski party) life style more than the hard core style of California skiing. In California we hit the mountain as soon as it opens, ski all day and try to come down the mountain on the last lift down at 4:00. Not the Italians. On this particular day in February the sun was shining and the lounge chairs (typical of the Italian beach scene in the summertime) were perched in the snow. The Italians were sitting at the sunny tables and lounge chairs soaking up the sun and sipping their Spritz (the very familiar Italian drink of Prosecco (sparkling white wine), Campari or Aperol (a red brittle liquor) and orange wedge in a large globe wine class filled with ice). In Italian life the “La dolce far niente” )The sweetness of doing nothing), is very valued as well as appreciating a good Spritz or Cappuccino. So, I summoned my inner Italian and joined them in la dolce vita.

I marveled at how the body remembers all that you taught it during its youth. Even if several years have passed by, my body knew just what to do when my skiis hit the snow after riding the lift. One minute you are happily sitting on a ski lift looking at the mountains all around you with your feet dangling in the air.  The next minute you are rapidly disembarking the lift onto the snow and aiming your skiis so as not to run into any other skiers or boarders who have stopped to strap on their board. I aim my skiis down to start the decent of the slope and my body knows instinctively to slightly lift a ski to gently turn while my hips pivot. Back and forth I traverse the mountain in a gentle “s” pattern to control my speed to my own comfort level. Swoosh, swoosh, swoosh, I hear the sound of my skiis under my control, the sun on my face, a crisp winter breeze blows past, the clear blue sky above and nothing but white below. I see the Alps looming on my horizon and I smile to myself, am I really skiing in the Italian Alps? Yes, yes, I am….that’s living la dolce vita.