29 Oct, Week 11, Stresa

I was the only one in the street wearing shorts and a t-shirt even though it was a warm sunny day. I caught a few looks like I was doing something audacious as I marched off to the train station. I have yet to understand the absurd sensitivity towards any hint of cold among the Italians here, but I believe there is a psychophysical component influencing their selection of warm clothing. Since they’ve turned on the heat in the office, I find myself overheating to the point of wiping sweat from my brow with the sleeve of my shirt. It might be more than 80 degrees in there although others typically wear long sleeves and sometimes sweaters.

I caught a beautiful glimps of the castle of Arona across the lake from the train before disembarking in Stresa. Stresa is another small city on the shores of Lago Maggiore. It was already 1:30, so I made a bee-line for the lake. I felt a growing sense of excitement as I strode down the small lanes on the way to the water since it seems like it’s been a while since the last time I’ve ventured outside my usual domain. Stresa is a nice city, though I wouldn’t say it’s worth a visit if it didn’t have the lake.

Lago Maggiore is wider here than by Arona, and I could look across the expense of azure water to see the peaks of the Alps past the far shore. Today was probably clear enough to see snowcaps, but the foothills were cutting of my angle of sighte from here. Towards the end of the town I found the funicolare to ascend the nearby summit of Mottarone at 1491 meters. Given the near coincidence, I think mount Columbus might be a more appropriate name… The views from the cable car over forest reveled nature’s virtuoso. Here one could see pines interspersed with golden and cranberry-red trees before the backdrop of the lake and pointed mountains. I shot more than 100 photos, but forgot to buy a postcard for Jessica.

Among the mountain bikers and other passengers, there were 6 Americans on the cable car with me. 4 were older women that I could easily picture playing tennis with mom, and the other 2 were a couple from Ft. Lauderdale. I chuckled to myself a little as I heard them ask each other dumb questions like, “do we get out at the top, or does this thing just turn around?” After a little while I decided to share some of my knowledge, and my brochure of the hikes in the area.

From the peak you could really see far. I even heard someone say that one of the other lakes visible on the plains below was the Lago d’orta. I later confirmed the suspicion. I decided that I would try to walk down from the top instead of taking the cable car. The brochure said it would take 4 hours to climb, but the operator told me it would take about 2 ½ hours to walk down, so I’d make it just before dark. After about 30 minutes I found some old people that were looking for mushrooms. They had one large brown fungus in their basket, and didn’t know how much further it was to the halfway station. The trail was considerably more treacherous as I had anticipated as it was littered with apple-sized boulders that shifted under my feet as I rambled down the slope. I think the snugness of my new shoes is exasperated on a downhill grade, and as my feet began to hurt more and as the afternoon shadows stretched farther and farther away from the trees that created them I began to question my decision to walk down. I came upon some mountain bikers careening down the slopes, but when I asked them how much to go, one said 30 minutes, and the other 4 hours. In the end they agreed that if I kept moving I would reach the bottom. (Maybe they took one-too-many falls.)

I reached a clearing where another retired couple was resting on a rock while their feisty little dog ran amongst the trees. Near the edge of the clearing was a sinuous road with a dozen cows grazing on the other side. I heard their bells from afar, but had no idea what I was hearing. I was debating taking the road and trying to hitch a ride down the slope, but the couple pointed me towards a sign pointing back into the forest that said 2.15 to Stresa. They said I’d be fine, but had better not waste any time. I wondered if the 2.15 meant km, hours by foot, hours by bike, or the latest time someone should begin this trail....? The stones disappeared for a stretch, and I began to jog. If was going to have to race against the encroaching night, I’d better get moving because this whole side of the mountain was already in the shade.

I came to a sub-alpine meadow where I could see the wires of the cable car stretching over the valley. Using this as a reference I thought I might be able to orient myself on my little map, and get an idea how much more to go. I consulted my compass and found that the trail was going east, but to my dismay, the map did not indicate that the trail goes east. I pushed onward.

At the far edge of the meadow was a small green car. –Some sort of European attempt at a jeep. Inside I found a park ranger who told me just a half hour to go. I was relieved to hear more cowbells and find the midstation of the funivia soon after. I found the same Americans hanging around at the base when I arrived. We chatted for a minute, and then it was time for me to head back to the train station.

But a strange thing happened on the way back. I think a girl was trying to ask me to marry her!? I know this is one of those things people been teasing me about for a while, but it’s never happened before! I was walking along the path by the water back towards the train station, and this girl was going the opposite direction. After we passed, I got the sense that she stopped and turned around, and was following me. But I didn’t look back to see. After about 10 paces I felt a tap on the shoulder. It was her. I didn’t quite understand what she asked me; but it was something pertaining to the Fiera of Milano. I couldn’t figure out why she thought she knew me, but this wouldn’t be the first time I met someone I didn’t remember. She asked me some other generic questions and asked if we could sit down. I was pretty suspicious of this whole business, but there were a lot of other people walking around, so I couldn’t imagine that this was some sort of setup in the middle of the street. I continued to play along for a few more minutes as she pressed for an answer to why I don’t have a girlfriend.

This is an interesting question that triggered a bit of introspection. I’ve been pretty focused on working hard at school and haven’t really invested much time into relationships. Now I’m in Italy and struggle to communicate above an elementary level. She told me her dream is to get married and have children, and asked me what I thought about that. I told her I have a lot more traveling to do before I can let children slow me down, and that I should be heading towards the train station. She followed me a bit more to make sure we understood each other before saying goodbye.