We are on the final leg of our trip before we begin to settle into our new life in Torino. It is certainly true that we have saved the best for last. Our eight nights in the Dolomites were something that we have been anticipating. These mountains are a place that we have been anxious to revisit since we came here seven years ago. The bonus was that we were meeting our dear friends who live in Seattle. Steve, the husband, is half Italian, and has many relatives that still live in-country. We were fortunate to get to spend some time with the family at their holiday home in Pozza di Fassa. The first night was Steve’s birthday, so we all made pizzas in the wood-burning pizza oven in the home’s cavernous garden-level dining room. There was wine and cake and pizza, but mostly, there was family. It was bittersweet, as it was the first time that I really felt the pang of being away from my own.
A couple of nights later, we went back to the family house, where Steve’s family graciously cooked for the whole brood again. It was the first time in Italy where we have been truly surrounded by Italian language, real home-cooked food and a deep insight into the place where we are staying. Our connection to a place that we already felt such affinity for has been made even stronger because of the time that we spent with the family here.
There was an afternoon where we sat outside the house, staring up at the mighty Dolomites. Steve’s aunt said, “this is my favorite time of day, when the shadows are long on the grass”. I was having the same feeling. It was a lovely moment to see that appreciation for the mountains translates perfectly. It was the most contented I have felt the whole trip.