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.