24March, Day 73, Snowboarding Andermatt

It’s been another good week. I filed my third patent on Monday, had dinner with the Ambassador Tuesday, played soccer with some colleagues on Wednesday, enjoyed an Aperitivo with the girl from the train and her roommates on Thursday, caught up on sleep Friday to go snowboarding Saturday. I had hoped to go to a party on Saturday night, but I could not find anyone else who wanted to go out, and did not have the motivation to cowboy up and stay out until the 5:30AM train could bring me home. Maybe I just have to bite the bullet and go to a few student parties taking a cab home until I make a friend in Milan who likes to go out and has a couch where I can sleep until the trains start running in the morning. I imagine that I may be able to rent a car for only a little more than the price of a cab, but I don’t think I would be able to find my way home without getting lost unless it came with a navigator.

Rubbing elbows with some of Milan’s aristocracy reminded me that I should to keep pushing (harder) do great things and that I could benefit by surrounding myself with (more) capable people. There remains much to be done, but I take some consolation that the project of this most recent patent may have significant potential. At least one VC seems to agree…

Soccer was fun. I don’t have a whole lot more to say about it except that I’m surprised that this is the first time I’ve been invited to play in Italy.

The aperitivo was good. I enjoyed eating Indian food instead of Italian, and the company of other Americans. Afterwards we walked around the duomo and went for a gelato before saying goodnight.

I had a great day snowboarding in Switzerland with Paddy. There was fresh snow, sunshine, and almost no lines to ride the lifts and cable cars. Andermatt reminds me of Arapahoe basin Colorado in that it’s high and wide open without trees. They even have the avalanche warnings. The top of the mountain (Gemsstock at 2963m) is a crested pinnacle about 10 or 20 yards wide where both sides plunge off into steep slopes. From here the view opened broadly to the Swiss Alps partially blanketed in clouds.

Andermatt has a lot of off-trail skiing where we were able to ride powder about a foot deep. It took me a little getting used-to, but it was awesome once I got it. Snowboarding powder feels a lot like more wakeboarding because more weight shifts to the back foot, and the board can slide laterally though the snow without the edges biting just like a wakeboard can side-slip a little through water. By the afternoon I felt like I was planing the snowboard over the powder. Bombing down a black run seemed like the board only sank a couple inches instead of half way up to my knees like it did when I went slower. I think I may be hooked on snowboarding. Maybe even converted from skiing –Although skiing today would’ve also been phenomenal!

Despite the great times I’ve had in the Alps, I maintain the opinion that the USA has better mountains. I have yet to find a resort that can beat the views you find at lake Tahoe or the slopes of Colorado. Another observation: of the 4 mountains I’ve been to in the Alps, I have yet to find a single run peppered with moguls. I’m not real big on skiing the bumps, but I can appreciate the variety and added challenge they bring. Maybe they’ve been packing the snow more than usual to try to conserve it since it has been a very warm year. I even saw an exhibit on a glacier conservation project here. For the past few warm summers they’ve been covering their little glacier with a huge sheet to shade it from the sun to keep it from melting so fast. I think it’s a good idea when you look at the accelerated melting of our glaciers over the past few years but we need to make sure to focus efforts on “curing the disease in addition to treating the symptoms.”

17March, Day 66, Snowboarding Under the Matterhorn

I went to an Erasmus party with Ricardo and 2 of his roommates in a club called My Bali. I was pleased by the venue, but as the night went on the crowd seemed to get less and less friendly. I tried meeting a few new people, but didn’t really get far. It seems like a lot of the local Italian guys like to frequent these events to try to pick up chicks. Too much male presence can spoil just about any party, and this was no exception. I’d seen enough by 2, but had to wait about ninety minutes before we could convince one of the other guys that it was time to go. I woke up three hours later to inhale breakfast and then wait an hour for Mateo to pick us up to go to the mountains.

I dozed for a while in the car and woke to find us driving through a classic alpine valley dotted with quaint villages. The jagged peaks of the Alps reached skyward in the distance. We reached Cervinia and suited up in our snow gear although it was a sunny 65 degrees at the base. We took the first lift up 1000 or more meters to the base of the skiing area from which we could see small waterfalls of snowmelt pouring over the rocks below. Another lift brought us to some icy trails where the slush from yesterday afternoon had frozen into a slab during the night. Another lift, and then tow rope, and then cable car brought us to the peak of the Italian alps. From here we could look across the cirque to view at the Matterhorn, half hidden by a cloud. Patches of blue ice left from the glaciers of the last ice age remained tucked in some corners where they were protected from sunlight. And we could look down the other side of the mountain to Switzerland and Zermatt --only a few minutes away.

Before long it was time to head back to the bottom and drive home. I had a great time snowboarding, despite a slow start and little sleep the night before. I’m finally starting to get the feel of it. I’m really hoping we get some snow this week because the forecast says it will cool off and I’m hoping to go again next weekend. If not, I’m thinking about going to Norway for Easter weekend to get a few more days riding the snow.

I’ve gotta get to be because I’m still coughing since the day I returned from Tuscany. Tomorrow I’m joining the US Ambassador for dinner, so I’d like to be sharp!

Toscana Part 2: Firenze

Toscana Part 2: Firenze
I’ve wanted to finish the entry for such a long time that I don’t know if I’ll get around to writing it, or if it even pays to publish it this late. I’ll start with the outline, and maybe fill in some material if I get around to it.

Arrival. I feel superior because familiarity
Dumb-sounding Texans + Italian guys
Firenze has a supersexual vibe
Like college spring break
Model Show
Eucre American girls
The onion story and Daniela’s description of the game
(http://www.theonion.com/content/node/34198)
Rebecca and company
Party with Spaniards
Box wine and coke
The 4-5 cuties
Lots of talk but still striking out
Chianti, Greve
Wine tasting, wine opener
Hill Fiasole
Are Fiorentinos/Toscans more interesting than Milanese? Or my bias based on this experience?
Approach artist
(Farewell) dinner
Missing having close Friends/Companionship

14 March, Day 63 Treasure in Toscana

I just came back to Monza after a good week of work with one of our partners outside of Pisa. I took advantage of the weekend in Tuscany to visit some new and older friends in Florence, and explore the hills of Chianti. After eating out 6 nights in a row, I decided to continue the streak, but change the cuisine. I had a terrific dining experience in a Japanese restaurant about 15 minutes from my apartment. I’m not sure what was more noteworthy: the fresh tuna and salmon sushi, or the beautiful Japanese waitresses. There seems to be a definite paucity of both around here.

Let’s go back to the start of the trip one week ago.

I slowed my brisk walk to the train check out a group of six girls loitering on Platform #12 in Milano Centrale. To my amazement, they were speaking English, and it looked like we might be riding the same train. However, my reservation was on the 10AM train to Firenze, in spite of the fact that I made it to the station just in time to catch the 9AM. The foibles of the ticket purchasing process blocked my attempts at from buying a ticket for the 9AM at 8:39. In any case, I was ready to board this train so I asked one of the conductors if there were seats available, and if there was a penalty riding with my ticket. He said it would be 8 euros, and I could probably find a seat around the middle of the train in the 6th or 7th carriage. I decided to go to the 10th carriage and sit in the seat assigned to me there on the 10AM train hoping to avoid the fine.

Coincidentally, the American girls were bantering together a few rows behind me! I settled into (my) seat and counted the minutes before the train would leave. But then a small blond girl approached me and stuttered, “Pa-paarli ingeles?” I beamed, “As a matter of fact, I do!” I was hoping this might turn into a more pleasant 3 hours than I’d planned on! So I made a new friend --a girl from New Hampshire studying architecture in Milan. Soon the rightful ticket owner arrived and ousted me from (my) seat, but I lingered in the aisle talking for nearly an hour before the conversation began to taper off and I excused myself to take a nap in an empty seat. The evidence is mounting up that I’d have quite a different (social) experience if I were living closer to the center of Milan. I regret not devoting more diligence to my apartment search, but living a handful of kilometers away from the action should not be enough to exclude me from the games if I try a little harder. –I just have to make a few more connections.

I woke up about a half hour before our scheduled arrival. The American girls were still talking and giggling in the background. They seemed like the loudest ones on the train. I eavesdropped on their conversation from (my)-(new) seat, but soon became disinterested in their nonsensical chatter about a guinea pig that had passed away during their younger years. I opened my new book about a seduction artist that I started reading about a week ago. I was finding the content more interesting than my last book, and I was hoping to make some good progress this week.

We arrived in Firenze, and I said goodbye to Ms. New Hampshire without ever asking her name. I thought it was a little weird to part so anonymously after talking about an hour, but I didn’t want to seem like I was prying.

Soon I arrived in our partner’s office outside of Pisa and worked though the afternoon on some coriolis force calculations for a mechanism I’m designing. I was happy to put them aside when it was finally time to call it a day. I strolled Pontedera looking to select a restaurant for dinner. I eventually selected a seafood joint and had a decent pasta dish and some fried fish that included a few bits of calamari that may be the best I’ve ever had.

I began to my stroll back to the hotel, but took a detour into a bar that looked way too happening to pass up. Inside was a model-shoot. I asked a couple of guys what this was all about, and they explained that this was for the spring collection of a locally made brand of jeans. The place was swarming with people. I felt consciously out of place in my white tee shirt in this fashionable environment. To my disappointment, there was an aperitivo large enough that I could have made a dinner out of it if I hadn’t already eaten. So I ordered a drink and decided to observe the proceedings. The fashion show ended, but the party didn’t seem to miss a beat.

At some point I found myself standing close to one of the models. She was a pretty girl, about my height, with long dark hair, and dark eye makeup that was strange bordering on artistic. The eye makeup made for an easy opener as she laughed that she doesn’t always go around like this. I was surprised to find her to be rather down to earth, and would’ve liked to get to know her a little better, but she excused herself and left with some other guys. Two men standing next to me approached in a way that might’ve raised my gaydar, but they were obviously more interested in learning more about the girl I had just finished talking to than they were interested in me. A bit later I found myself talking to another girl, and I eventually closed the night by collecting her phone number. I felt like quite the player when she typed her name into my phone and it said that name already exists!

3,4 March, Day 52,53 A Weekend in Pigra

I finally got to post some pics in previous posts!

I had a nice dinner with the neighbors on Friday night, but couldn’t really find much to do afterwards so sawed at the violin for a while and went to bed early feeling a little defeated yet having fought nothing.

I woke up and went jogging in the morning mist without the sweatshirt (non-rocky-style) because it was like 55 or 60. I tried to push the pace a little, and probably ran a ¼ mile more than last week. I enjoyed listening to 2 chickens and a rooster one in someone’s back yard, but I’m beginning to abhor the trash and graffiti accumulating on the shoulders of the path. I really think there’s more than enough trash in the city to sustain the homeless population with reliable work.

I showered, dressed, and swept the apartment before being picked up by Paddy and Maddy to meet Chiara and the others to go to her parent’s vacation house in the mountains above lake Como. We stopped in a supermarket to buy some food for the weekend where I saw the biggest deli-meat in my life. This mortadela was a hulking 2 feet in diameter, and almost double that in length. I wouldn’t be surprised if it weighed in excess of 50 pounds!

We continued on to the lake on the highway snaking though tunnels opening to peek-a-boo views of the shores. At Argegno we left the highway we began to weave our way up the mountain on roads barely wide enough for one car, but somehow accommodating 2-way traffic. We passed through some villages where the houses came up to the road, sometimes forming archways over the cobblestones. We finally reached Pigra (which translates as slacker) around 1. The house was high on the mountain with two stories of porches opening to awesome views overlooking the deep water and snowcapped mountains beyond the other shore. We unpacked the food and basked in the sunshine enjoying the view while lunch was being cooked.

One of the pine scrubs in the garden smelled like California. I miss that smell (and the fresh air). I practically lived outdoors at Stanford, or at least near an open window. There doesn’t seem to be much fresh air or pine trees around Milan…

Lunch was served. First was a generous assortment of dense cheeses, prosciuto, salami, and bread. Then we had a plate of spaghetti with tomato and little bits of fish, followed by salad, coffee, and desert. I was having some trouble keeping up with the conversation but caught some bits about a shepherd who had a refuge up in the mountains near us and sells homemade cheeses. When the food inspectors came to monitor his operation, he repelled them by throwing rocks from the top of the mountain.

After lunch we bundled up to go exploring the nearby mountains. I regretted only bringing my fleece, but Chiara’s brother, Pietro had a traditional wood-cutter shirt for me to wear. We piled into the 4x4 and drove a narrow curvy military road to several lookouts over the lake. We crossed several snowfields before reaching the end of the road. Now I understood! The shepherd lived in an old military outpost beyond the next ridge that the Italians used to maintain their sovereignty over the lake during WWII. We began picking our way along a trail scratched into the side of the mountain to reach this final view of the lake. We shivered as the wind whipped around us. Even the woodcutter’s shirt wasn’t keeping its half of the bargain but at least I looked like I belonged on the trail as we crossed patches snow and mud. The sun was setting by the time we finally reached the outpost. The shepherd was gone for the winter, but he left a spectacular view of Bellagio far below, and a full moon rising above the mountains on the opposite shore. I don’t think I’ve ever regretted forgetting my mini tripod more. This was an incredible shot, but all I could take back were memories and blurry underexposed photos.

After reading for a while by the fire that night, we played Pictionary. I needed translations for most of the Italian words, and had to do most of my guessing in English, but it was a lot of fun. –Maybe even more fun than usual because this added a new element to the game. I think Chiara and I came in second place against two other teams. Not bad for a first time in Italian! I would recommend this to any bilingual group interested in a fun way to practice language.

I stood out on the porch for a while gazing up at the lunar eclipse reflecting in the lake surrounded by dark silhouettes of the mountains against the night sky. I used the tripod to snap a few photos here, but I mostly enjoyed the silent clear air. I could almost hear someone singing cowboy songs under the same moon in front of a fire far away on another continent.

The next day we had a breakfast of hardboiled eggs, coffee with milk, salami, cheese, and bread on the porch. The plan was to take the funicolare down to the lake and then take a ferry to Bellagio for lunch. Unfortunately we missed the ferry, but we still had a good lunch. I ordered fish from the lake. This consisted of a fried fillet, a half dozen whole minnows fried to a crisp, and a larger (5 inches) fish that might’ve been baked. I thought the friend minnows most intimidating, but actually the most enjoyable once I got into them. I was wondering how in the world I was going to extract a nibble of flesh from the head and bone until Patty ate one whole. You crunch up the head and everything. It’s really not bad at all.

Later we explored the grounds of an abandoned mansion before packing up and going back to Milan. It was a great weekend.