Cinque Terre: At the edge of the continent

Cinque Terre takes four and a half hours to get to by train from Lugano, or five and a half when the Italian train schedules do not provide enough time for travelers to make their connection in Milan. I was exhausted from a long week but Blair and I managed to get in a few rounds of rummy on the way to Milan. Altogether this weekend Blair and I split 1-1. I beat her and she pummeled me once by over 200 points. We were not afforded the opportunity to play cards between Milan and Genoa as we rode what was the most crowded train I have ever ridden in my life. There must have been a number of people who had missed their connection in Milan just like us. Blair and I stood in the vestibule and I was standing halfway into the bathroom which wasn’t bad until the man behind me, who I was crowding with the backpack on my back, decided to close the bathroom door on me. So we had even less room. Eventually we found pullout seats in the aisle of the car in front of us and the rest of the way wasn’t so bad.

The village of Vernazza was quiet as we made our way down the main and seemingly only street of this tiny town on the Italian Riviera. In the morning, the weather was sunny, but a bit on the chilly side if you weren’t in the sun: just about perfect for hiking. And there were very few people in the town yet the stores and the restaurants were still open. It appeared that we had picked a very good time to come to Cinque Terre.


These five towns are separated by 11 kilometers of seaside trails. Blair and I headed east toward Corniglia and Manorola before arriving at Riomaggiore, the last of the five villages. The area is completely undeveloped in between each town expect for the trail. The vastness of the sea to our right was overwhelming at times. The coastline juts out into the sea so that, ocassionally, all five towns can be seen from the trail at once. You really got the sense that you were indeed on the edge of a continent.

Cinque Terre has been a big tourist spot for decades. Once a sleepy set of villages that concentrated on agriculture, the area has capitalized on its location and natural beauty by investing in the tourist business. In fact, there are only about 250 acres of agriculture left. Near Manorola, we got a taste of the past as we looked upon the hill above us to see cardboard cutouts of people working the land. The sun felt wonderful and the wind held off as we made our way along the path through the early afternoon. Shady areas did not provide the same comfort.

We had lunch in Riomaggiore. We were a little underdressed for the occasion in our hiking gear. But the meal was perhaps the best one we had all weekend. I had a seafood pasta with mussels, baby clams, and gambas, and Blair savored a spinach gnocchi. The wait staff was friendly, especially the old man who was a little touchy feely, not as much with me as with Blair.

We took the train back through Vernazza and to the final town on the west side, Monterosso. But we did not punch our tickets; and a ride that cost us less than two euros was about to cost us 50 euros more when the conductor looked at our tickets.

“You must”…then he gave a gesture showing the punching motion of a ticket. “Sempre!” Then he wrote “50 euros” on the back of the ticket and said “penalty” All I said was “okay” and then played dumb. Blair had realized when we sat down on the train that perhaps we needed to punch the tickets but had I tried to get off the train to do this before it left I am sure that I would have missed it. This was one of those times that I chose not to speak any Italian, hoping that the appearance of ignorance and the reputation that Americans travelers get of only being able to speak English would get this conductor off our backs. After he displayed complete frustration in our failure, he left us alone.

In Monterosso, we skipped rocks on the beach and I tried to convince Blair that the water was warm enough to swim in. She wasn’t buying it. We also found a café that sold “Monterosso pie” which had come highly recommended from a friend at TASIS. Blair and I both agreed that we enjoyed the coffee more than the pie and it gave us the kick we need to make the hour and a half hike back to Vernazza. Before leaving town, we sampled different flavored Limon cellos, which in one way was too bad because just up the trail there was a man that had set up a tent and was selling his own set of wines. All the previous taste tests had weighted me down and made me feel a bit woozy. I am sure I felt this more than Blair because I think I finished a few more taste tests than her. And it would get dark soon, so we had to pass the wine seller and keep walking. The sun was setting behind us and Blair and I couldn’t help but to stop and look at the colors of the sky and the different cloud formations over the Mediterranean Sea. It got dark rather quickly after the sun went down but we kept moving swiftly until we arrived at a lookout spot where we could see the lights of Vernazza below us. We couldn’t get a terrific picture of the view we that we had discovered because of the darkness, but we found the next day that many of the postcards in the Vernazza shops show the exact same view that we saw overlooking the stunningly beautiful town at night.



After arriving back in Vernazza, Blair and ate dinner near the water in a busy restaurant. We had hoped the crowd meant that the food was good. The best part of the meal was definitely the bottle of white wine which we savored over the course of the meal. The least favorite was the anchovies that somehow the waitress had convinced us were a good choice after she had told us that they were out of the cod appetizer. Blair and I talked a lot about our families and we would have stayed longer to chat had they not kicked us out of the restaurant at 10:30 because the staff supposedly had to catch the last train home which was earlier than usual because of a supposed strike.

The next day was again sunny and cold. Blair and I ate breakfast at a little café facing the beach before heading out for another hike. This time we headed up into the mountains. We passed through the vineyards and had great views of the sea. In one vineyard, we came across a not so happy dog that gave us a lot of trouble. We had to approach him and pass him and hope that he would not jump down from the rock wall above. He seemed perfectly ready to do so, even though his owner yelled to us from afar to keep going on ahead. Eventually, we snuck by the distressed animal and disappeared into the forest and the barking behind us subsided.

The trail was not well marked and at times we got lost in the forest and had to turn back to find the path. The fallen leaves covered much of the pathway and we had to brush our feet along under the leaves to make sure that we did not step into any holes. The trail curved around the gorge and afforded us a view of the vineyards that we had passed through on the other side. It started to get late and after what seemed like a lot of walking without any real sense of direction or purpose, we took the path pack to Vernazza. We sat down, as we had done for lunch, and ate peanut m+m's and clementines. We perched over on the side of the road with our feet dangling over a stone wall and looked out at the sea. We could see the different currents working against each other from this far up. The sun shown brightly and we could not peer down at the water without wearing our sunglasses.

We arrived back in Vernazza with enough time before our train left to be able head up the castle tower and get a view over the town. The sun was still bright in the late afternoon and we got another couple to take our picture at the top.

The train ride home went quickly and except for a mad dash to get kebab in Milan before catching our connection to Lugano, it was a much less adventurous trip than our journey to Vernazza on Friday. But that mad dash for kebab did include some running to catch the train on time which was a good way to end a very active weekend.

Games

Although Pete Arthmire is a West Virginia Mountaineers fan, I have decided to tolerate him. Actually, I have learned to live with this deficiency of him quite well seeing how I have beaten him five out of six times in our weekly bet. My team of course is the UConn Huskies! Whoever’s team beats the point spread by more points in a given week wins the bet. As UConn is having a surprisingly good year and West Virginia has not lived up to the hype, I am up 5 to 1. Thanks Pete!

Allison is a kindergarten teacher and is also a lot of fun. She is a huge Red Sox fan and the best way to get on her bad side is to say anything against her beloved Fenway boys. Blair and I have enjoyed hanging out with both Allison and Pete and are ready to challenge them to another mean game of late night cards.

Blair has taught me how to play euchre. Euchre is definitely a Midwestern card game and even though I went to college in Ohio and have family from the area I just never learned how to play. Because of my passion for the Midwest and its people, I felt obliged to finally learn this game. Unfortunately, Blair and I haven’t found anyone yet to play with us. We’ve played a lot of hearts which makes the train rides go faster.

Trip to the Ticino capital

In mid September Blair and I went to Bellinzona with Brody. It was supposed to be a school trip but no students signed up for the half-hour drive to this historic town. We strolled through the streets as Brody looked for a nice gift for his wife Joanna. We climbed up the castle tower and looked up to the two castles situated above us up the east side of the valley. The castles were used for protection against Swiss confederate armies from the North. In the early 1500s, this castle was captured by the invaders from the North and the Ticino became part of the Swiss confederation. 500 years later, this Italian speaking region remains the southernmost canton of Switzerland. About 7.6 percent of the Swiss population speaks Italian. The Ticino is very unlike the rest of Switzerland due to its Italian heritage. Besides the language, one encounters a different type of architecture. The cozy brown wooden hut with the red or green shutters and steep roofs are not found in the Ticino. Ticino architecture contains colors that are more Mediterranean with pinks and yellows and oranges. The weather is a lot milder as well. Last year Lugano did not get any snow. Fall comes a lot later which allows for a lot more outdoor activity well into November. Even the landscape is different. One does not find the deciduous tree life to be nearly as prevalent in southern Switzerland. Passing north underneath the Gottard Pass and then coming into the Swiss German canton of Uri is like coming into another country except that you do not need to bring your passport.

Bellinzona is the capital of the Ticino canton. There are 26 Swiss cantons and they are democratically run. Each little village that one comes across has quite a bit of autonomy. I had to laugh when I heard one of the Republican presidential candidates for the American presidency say in regards to a bilingual society that democracy cannot work if there is more than one working language. Well Switzerland has four (German, French, Italian, Romanche) and they make it work pretty well. The Swiss are known for their efficiency. Sometimes the quiet and rigid character of the Swiss can be a bit too much; like the 10 o’clock quiet hours in Montagnola or the hoses that clean off the tires of trucks before they leave a construction site. (Wouldn’t want to get the road dirty, now would we?) But it sure is nice to be able to rely on trains that are on time and a tunnel system that might be second to none in the world.

But I digress…

Bellinzona is a very nice town. It comes across as a bit quainter and a little less touristy than Lugano. (There seems to be more Swiss visitors in Bellinzona than German or Italian visitors.) We had lunch in the plaza and Blair and I listened as Brody went on about stories of him and his wife Joanna and of his previous life before Joanna which consisted of an eight year old son who he sees very little of these days. Brody is tall and skinny but not lanky because he is strong. Brody is a no bull, happy-go-lucky, sometimes in your face type of guy who will talk to most anyone who will listen. He tells it how he sees it without any editing and he is easy to trust because of this quality. He is in his mid thirties and so far loves his new life in Switzerland.

Everywhere one goes in Europe it seems there are remnants of the past and I imagined the sounds of a horse drawn buggy clip clopping its way down these streets centuries before in the very place we were eating. The brightly colored plaza caught my attention as we nibbled at the last of our lunch and talked away the early afternoon. The shadows blanketed the surrounding Ticino architecture in the early autumn sunshine and cast a late afternoon darkness over a significant section of the otherwise sunlit cobblestone streets.

The next day Blair and I went to Lago Maggiore with John Erwin. John is another one of my favorites here at TASIS. His former job carried him to Uzbekistan where he worked for the American government in the secret service. He speaks Russian and also spent three years in Prague. He wears suspenders to school every day which have given him his own distinct identity around campus. When he is on his free time, life is full of fun. He laughs at his own jokes and also at most anything else. Blair and I both have spent many hours alone separately in his company. He likes to play around with people and get them riled up. But it is all in good fun. John also has a serious side too. But our day to Lago Maggiore was full of laughs. We spent very little time in Locarno, only enough to jump out of the car and get some gelato and then walk back to the vehicle to make sure we hadn’t gotten a parking ticket. We went on to Ascona where we were tempted to join some young kids in some fun on a trampoline. They were strapped into bungee chords and jumping up and down. But we would have been the oldest people on the trampoline by about 20 years and we decided to skip it, if only to avoid the strange looks we would have gotten from the on looking parents surrounding us. So Ascona was also a short visit. Just enough time to look at a few watches that cost a few thousand francs (one franc = 85 American cents). I sat in the front seat as Blair drove the car that the school provided her for her commute to school every day. John was in the back. We climbed up from the valley and looked down to the right at the views before they vanished behind a grove of trees and then we were on our way back to campus to get ready for another week of teaching.

Sun and fun near Interlaken

Blair, Carla, Allison, and I hopped on a 4:55 train from Lugano. We were all very pleased to get away from campus for what we hoped would be a wonderful weekend of hiking in the Swiss Alps. Our Friday night destination? Interlaken, a good five hour train ride away. But five hours can go fast when you are surrounded by good company and occupied by fantastic views of the Alps outside the train window. We had already passed this way before on a weekend trip to Zurich. But this ride through the heart of Switzerland never gets old. We made our way to through a wooded stretch to Bellinzona and then climbed up the rest of the valley before leaving Italian Switzerland through the San Gottard tunnel. On the other side you come into German speaking Switzerland at Goshenen and then make your way through the steep green hillsides up to Zurich with mountains towering over us on each side of the train. Surprisingly enough, this ride is so smooth and steady that many a traveler have been known to fall fast asleep and miss the whole set of breathtaking views. The four of us, having seen such views before carried on with conversation and a game of cards as the daylight faded outside. Two transfers later and after a number of games of hearts, we finally arrived in Interlaken. We had expected to step off the train and experience colder temperatures than what we were used to from the Mediterranean climate of Lugano, but the night air was pleasant and we walked our way from the station through town to our hotel. Hotel Bellevue looks out over the lake and up to the mountains. We knew the mountains were all around us but we could not see them until the next morning when we went to the balcony of the hotel.

Saturday morning was mild and bright. After a set of bus and train rides through Lauderbrunnen and up to Stechelberg, Blair and I split with Carla and Ali. In truth, I am not a huge fan of gondolas and preferred to walk up to the town of Gimmelwald 500 meters up. Blair and I walked along the babbling river in the valley. It was brisk as the sun had not come up over the mountains and we now found ourselves up above 900 meters. We climbed up the ridge which was wooded but we could still peek behind us to the views of the valley below. We came across a bridge over a small but rushing stream that dropped down the mountain underneath as we stood on its wooden planks. I pondered how often they had to replace the bridge, perhaps every spring with the runoff from the peaks above knocking down the manmade structure. The mountains surrounding us, although more rugged than any anyone will ever see, are hardly what one would call secluded. I marveled at the meticulous trail work that was done to keep the trails clear. The sun rose out from behind the surrounding mountains in the midmorning as we climbed our way closer to Gimmelwald. We passed a set of cows in a pasture on our left and the bells around their necks clanged loudly which gave me flashbacks to high school football games and those fans that always ring those loud and obnoxious cowbells. The toll of these bells in the midst of our surroundings rang a much more peaceful tone.

Gimmelwald sits at near 1400 meters. The mountain hostel where we were supposed to stay tonight was the first thing we saw as we came to the building. The rest of the town sat to the south cozy and quiet. The rustic inside was quaint and comfortable. Blair and I left some of our stuff at the hostel and then walked up the small and peaceful paved road to Murren which was the next village up and hung to the side of the cliff above the valley below. We met up with Allie and Carla and then proceeded on. In Murren, Blair spotted “the perfect house.” But I missed it and we didn’t get a picture so I guess we will have to go back sometime. The house in the picture in my head had a deep wood brown shade; it had red shutters and a Swiss flag hanging outside. I also definitely know that there were flowers outside because Blair thinks that the flowers make these types of houses all the more attractive.

We headed up the valley and tried not to feel too discouraged when a pair of bikers pedaled past us along the trail. The weather was outstanding: 15 degrees Fahrenheit without a cloud in the sky. We stopped many times to get pictures. Across the valley stood the Eiger and the Jungfrau, two very impressive Swiss peaks. The 10,000 foot slab of rock on the other side of the valley was a most awesome sight and it was even more amazing to imagine climbing it which was first done in 1932. It took three days for that expedition to reach the top which means that they had to sleep on the side of the cliff bivouacking at least twice. The risks of injury from rolling out of bed increase significantly when you are 1000s of meters above ground.

Up and up we went…

We reached a small lake at about 2400 meters and then finally got to the top of the Shilthorn (2900 meters or so) around 3:30pm. I was proud of all four of us. And I couldn’t believe that Blair and I had climbed 2000 meters in six and a half hours. There were a number of tourists at the top that had taken the gondola to reach the revolving restaurant and gift shop. An open cockpit two-seater plane flew within 50 meters of the observation deck, looped around and then passed by us again. It reminded us that a James Bond film was filmed here a number of years ago. We also saw lots of Para gliders this weekend. Carla and Allie took the gondola back and Blair and I booked it down the mountain 5000 feet back down to Gimmlwald. It was easy going and we walked along the ridge on the way back and snuck peeks into the valley from the top of the ridge. The sun was still bright but was ready to nestle itself behind the mountains. We stopped a few times to listen to the silence of the mountains. Every few seconds the silence was interrupted by the crack of ice from the glaciers across the valley on the huge cliffs that towered above. And even when the ice was not cracking, the silence was not complete as we heard the constant sound of rushing water from down in the valley, seemingly as loud as a highway full of speeding cars. The valley that we had climbed up was all in shadow now. Eventually we had to abandon the sunny ridge and climb back down into the cooler valley. We walked down to a brook and followed it through a dark stand of woods and back down into Gimmelwald. It was about 7pm when we reached the hostel. Both Blair and I felt pretty good considering the long day. I had been worrying about a calf that had been hurting me earlier in the week and she a quad that had been acting up. But both of us felt great during the long hike. It was quite an accomplishment but I think both Blair and I feel we could do even more. I personally am intrigued by a three week trip across the mountain passes of Switzerland. Maybe it is something to look into for next summer.

That night at the hostel was heaven. If the hot shower didn’t feel good enough, we ate pizza; we drank a little wine, and had some chocolate fondue. We even got a round of hearts in. Meanwhile, I tried to study the map for a hike that we could do the next day; that is, if we were even able to get our exhausted bodies up the next day. The hostel was crowded with people which surprised me seeing how it was mid-October. But they were like-minded young folks out for a great time in the mountains. The feeling of exhaustion was enough to drive us to our separate dorm rooms by a quarter to ten. As my head hit the pillow I was grateful to have spent the day doing what I love and with such great company. Unfortunately sleep did not come easy for me or Blair as I believe the chocolate must have had a significant amount of caffeine in it.

Nevertheless, we were up the next morning, and after a bowl of cereal, we hiked to a waterfall at the end of a valley. It was a bit cold as we waited for the sun to pop up over the mountains. But the sun was blocked by the huge wall of rock in front us that jutted up thousands of feet.

Blair and I spent the late morning and early afternoon on our own hiking back up towards Shilthorn but from a more southerly direction. We passed through a little village before making our way to a mountain hut that we had hoped to stay in before we made reservations at the hostel. We went inside and I kind of felt how Goldilocks would have felt when she barged in on the three bears’ house. There was no one around. But two bunks with room enough for eight people were all made up and there were slippers underneath the bottom bunk. It would have been very cozy to stay there the night before but during the off season it is first come first serve and I did not want to take a chance on whether we would get a spot or not.

Blair and I lied down on the grass as we gazed at the valley below and the para-gliders taking off from above behind us. The sun felt wonderful on our faces and Blair quickly dozed off to sleep. Time passes very quickly on that hill. And it was almost two hours later that we motivated ourselves for the hike down. We passed through the same thickly wooded forest as the day before back to Gimmelwald but this time we came across a waterfall. The trail actually went behind the waterfall and we had a view from behind it down into the gorge.

We showered back at the hostel and then took the gondola down. I haven’t been on a gondola in over 15 years. But with some of my own positive thinking and maybe a soft caress from Blair I thought I could do it. The gondola reached the first pole then took off dropping quickly and steeply down into the valley. The ground was over a 1000 feet below and the gondola was packed to the brim with what seemed like 50 people that had just gotten off the gondola from Murren. There was something exciting about facing a fear with Blair there to witness it. She grabbed at my shirt to balance herself among the hoard of mountain goers as we made our way down to the floor of the valley. When we reached the bottom she asked me

“How was that?”

“Piece of cake.” I said trying to act uncharacteristically arrogant in a situation that would never conjure any right for arrogance by anyone. But for me, it was a start, an accomplishment. When we got on the bus in Stechelberg to Lauderbrunnen I felt great.

Blair and I did not get home till 2 am that night. We got an eight o’clock train from Interlaken which gave us enough time to chow down on kebabs near the station and talk about songs we should sing at the next TASIS faculty sing along. Train rides with Blair always go fast, too fast it seems, and before we knew it, we were walking back to TASIS from the train station ending what had been one very terrific weekend.

The Car; As We Say Goodbye

What to say about the car. It has treated Allie and I very well. From day one it has gotten us to where we had to go and we were very fortunate and spoiled to have the perk of not having to ride the bus, figure out how to get to Ikea when everyone else was going, and working on trying to drive the TASIS vans. Granted at the beginning the driving experience for me was slim to none, considering I did not now how to drive a manual car. That was an exciting and nerve racking experience.

It was about one week before school started. Allie and I were chatting about school, the week and the weekends schedule leading up to the start and we realized that there was absolutely no time for her to teach me how to drive except for the ride every morning and afternoon to and from school. Starting the following Monday I was going to have to drop Allie off at work and continue up the hill to Hadsall to my classroom. It was necessary for me to learn. One morning I decided to give it a try. I backed out of the spot successfully, didn't stall, jerked a little but nothing to bad. I was feeling really confident. When I reached the intersection. I pulled out, or tried to and stalled. Try number two, stalled again, a little farther into Collina d'Oro. Third try, stalled again. About a third of the way in the middle of the intersection. I convinced myself the fourth try would be the charm. Not so much. I had successfully stopped traffic up and down Collina d'Oro as now I was perfectly perpendicular to the road at a dead stop. After laughing uncontrollably, Allie and I had a little Chinese Firedrill, where she ran around the car and I jumped over the center counsel and she drove us the rest of the way up the mountain to our Singapore Math Training. A whole other story.

Needless to say, as the week went on, I did get much better at driving and was only stalling a couple of times a day. A huge improvement from my first attempt. I was feeling so confident I decided to drive down to Lugano to purchase a cell phone. Lizzie, Shannon and Pete decided to join me. I believe they really wanted to see if I was going to be able to do it and Pete only heard the word Gelato and was in. Everything was smooth until we tried to come home. I had my ticket to exit the parking lot, pulled up to the machine, inserted my ticket and the gate went up. I pressed the gas and the clutch and stalled, about three times. Meanwhile, Pete in the back seat is yelling at me to go because the gate is about to close on us. Then the machine starts repeating, "Gate about to close, gate about to close". Lizzie is in the back laughing hysterically when I finally peal out of the lot and the men on their motorcycles turn to watch me go. It was quite a sight. Anyhow, enough about my driving skills. I have to say I have become quite good. At least most of the time. But back to the car.

Like I mentioned earlier, it's a good car. Supposedly it takes the corners well. Well, it has also been abused. From me learning how to drive, Allie putting gas in a diesal engine, someone hitting us, and me backing into a wall, we have kept things interesting. The first time we ran out of gas, Allie had the car and she was with a bunch of high school and elementary school teachers heading to a bar. On their way, they stopped to get "gas". The next day Allie, Shannon and Carla drove to Lucarno for a day of walking and exploring. They didn't make it all that far because after their first stop and lunch, the car didn't start. So they called me. I was in Bellinzona with Brody and Tim and we were eating a leisurily lunch when we recieved the phone call. All three of us were lost as to what they should do, so they called every person they had programmed in their phones until they finally found Anna to connect them to the Swiss version of AAA. The car was taken care of and diesel was put in the tank. However, since that event it hasn't smelled right. Everyone can blame it on my driving but I'm sticking by my opinion that something bad has happened to that engine.

This could be the reason why we have one seat heater on the passanger side of the car. It is rather comical as new people ride along with one of us. About two minutes into the drive they comment at how warm their seat has gotten. At first we all tried to find the dial to turn it down. Now we realize that, it's not normal and the driver side doesn't have such a perk. As it's getting cold, we're not complaining. We rather enjoy the warmth and coziness of taking a ride. I especially enjoyed it after our hike to Camoghe, it was rather toasty.

Now it gets interesting. Yeah I know, you thought diesal was the worst of it. One evening, Allie mentioned to me that there was a dent in the back end of the car. It looked like someone had hit us. Neither of us had knowledge as to what had happened or when it happened because until now we hadn't noticed. That same evening, as Allie was getting out of the car, the entire side rail on the passanger seat came out with her, clanging to the ground. We pushed that back into place and laughed about how we needed to document the mishaps and adventures we have had.

Unfortunately, it doesn't stop there. I think Allie cursed us or at least me. After a shopping trip to Grancha I agreed to drive Shannon home with her grocerys. If you have seen her parking lot you already know why this is a mistake. As I was backing out of the lot in front of her building, I swear first gear didn't catch or something because I was flooring it when I rolled backwards into the wall scrapping the bumper just a little more. Now it is really obvious that there was some sort of accident. As Shannon says, that's alright, at least it is all in the same place. Who needs a tail light and paint anyway. So, luckily we are turning this thing in on Monday. It has treated us well but it is going to cost us our salary if we keep it any longer. Next thing we know it will start smoking, so before that happens we will have to say goodbye.

Sunday Adventures to val Colla

Sundays are proving to be the day for hikes. However, sometimes we need to rethink that idea. Saturdays are always beautiful and then Sunday rolls around and there are clouds on the mountains and the temperture has dropped. We keep telling ourselves that once we are at the top it makes everything worthwhile.

This past Sunday, we went on an adventure. Tim had heard from another faculty member that there was a beautiful hike starting in Colla. Early Sunday morning we ventured out in the renta car that still has a single heated seat (I swear something is wrong with it) in search of Val Colla. After many turns and circles of Lugano we came across a sign for Pregassona, which was heading in the general direction. Eventually, signs appeared that pointed in the right direction and we were able to sit back and enjoy the scenery. As we left the city behind us, the trees began to change colors and there was a feeling of fall. Our conversations lead to cider mills, apples and donuts and a little reminiscing of home in autumn. About 45 minutes later, we spotted the church that was the landmark for the start of our hike and parked the car.

As I got out of the car, the cool wind hit me, and I had a strong desire for my hat. I went digging in Tim's bag for a few more layers and to my surprise, there was nothing there. Somehow, the layers had been left behind. We chatted for a while about temperature and what we had available and decided that we would start up the mountain and turn back if it was too cold. We did have one hat and an extra coat, almost enough for the temperatures that we eventually faced. We should have known when we started that the reality of turning around before the top was slim to none when it comes to us or at least me.


Colla is 1,011 m in elevation. Our destination was Camoghe a mear 2,218m up, not to bad. It was posted as a four hour hike. We were told though, that wasn't the case and we should be able to make it at a quicker speed. That would have been the truth if we didn't get a little lost. We started off heading up a bunch of stairs that left the right thigh burning. They were just big enough to have to take an extra step in the middle causing every step up to be made with the same leg. I could definitely do without the stairs while hiking. However, the trick of walking in a zig zag has helped me out a little, I don't complain as much.


Anyhow, getting lost. We were strolling along, looking at the trees that had changed, talking away, when we realized that we were no longer on a marked path. We still are not sure how this happened, but oh well. We continued walking through the trees, over a little stream, which I promptly stepped in soaking my foot to my ankle. My boots were not as water proof as I thought. This same little stream flowing down the mountain side was surrounded by icicles that were not going to melt anytime soon. Just to paint a picture of just how cold it was where we were hiking. A little after the stream, the path we thought we were following disappeared completely. We were faced with the side of a mountain, covered in grass up to our ankles and we had to decide which way to go. Up seemed logical. At this point we started to follow little red lines on the rocks. A very close resemblence to the red and white lines that mark all trails in Switzerland. I kept telling Tim we were on the right path, I really don't think he believed me. Eventually, we came out to an opening where we could see our destination clearly. I was getting a little nervous about how we were going to find our way down because we truely were not following anything and we just came out of trees that looked like the trees to the right and left of us. As we contemplated our next direction, we noticed a hut and some hikers a little to our right, which brought on a feeling of excitement. We had found our way once again and reached a trail marker. A logical place to stop and we were able to enjoy the view of distant Lugano and the surrounding mountains, with a snack of peanut M&M's. Which we ate about every 30 minutes or so. A very healthy lunch and energy booster.

We were about an hour into the hike and the temperature wasn't to bad yet. I had confiscated Tim's hat and he was feeling quilty about wearing his coat, but both of us were to stubborn to admit that we wanted to turn around because we could no longer feel our fingers or faces. The M&M's helped give us warmth. At this point we were on the trail and every red and white marker was exciting and promising. We continued to come across the yellow signs telling us our elevations and updated travel times. At one point, the trail started to head down into a valley, in the shade and the whipping wind. I wasn't a happy camper, but we chugged on into the sunshine ahead. The last half hour of the hike consisted of loose rock and steep paths. I was moving rather slowly, hoping the wind would stop. Every time we switched back, and the wind went from hitting my face to my back, I looked up and told myself we were almost there. We passed a group of hikers enjoying the sunshine, protected from the wind by the mountain side. Eventually we passed behind a wall of rock, with the hope of being out of the wind, not so much. Climbed down a few boulders and reached our destination; Camoghe 2,218 m.


It was absolutely beautiful and as I mentioned well worth it. To our right there was a clear view of the valley below were we could pick out the surrounding towns and the autostrada running up the middle. To the left was continuous mountains and just a little snow. Not to cold, maybe.


All in all it was a great hike, with great views. The walk down was much more enjoyable as far as temperatures go. The wind was at our backs, the sun was high over head, and feeling came back into my fingers about half way down. I successfully found two streams to step in and Tim only rolled his ankle once. Overall, it was a great day, full of adventures and many funny stories from beginning to end.