Having managed to escape Christmas we still had New Year to deal with. New Year is typically far less problematical and often this can be great fun. Eat some tasty food, drink too much and watch fireworks. The previous few years have been noticeably quiet for us. Last year we were in Chamonix where it rained so much that although there were some fireworks all we could see of them were a few colours in the clouds. Prior to that were two years of lockdown and the year before that we were deep in the desert on our own. So, we had hopes for fireworks but were not sure how this might work out. In the meantime, we wanted to see a bit more of Piedmont so we headed to Alba.
The weather was dull and overcast but the city of Alba proved to be quite interesting. First job was to check into our apartment. We had booked a little apartment to be our base for a couple of days. Usually someone meets you, takes care of any registration formalities and shows you the place. Bit like checking into a hotel. Not this time. First, we both had to fill in an online form before they would send us the access code for the keys. This might sound like a convenient, high-tech solution but to be honest, sitting in a car, poking at a phone with one finger and having to contend with a dodgy signal, it was a bit of a pain. Eventually we got the code and found the keys without too much trouble. Then I got an anonymous text message on WhatApp. “Who are you?” seemed reasonable for me to ask but it was not until I threatened to block the sender that they admitted to representing the apartment company. After that the text conversation got increasingly ridiculous and annoying. “Where do we park” was answered with “Watch this five-minute video” and “Which is our apartment?” elicited “Read this 28-page document and follow the instructions”. We got to feel like we had become trapped in some weird and extraordinarily frustrating reality game. We wandered around, tried the keys in the wrong apartment, talked to some locals that lived there and searched for an umbrella stand. The company would not tell us which apartment we were in, instead we had to find an umbrella stand. Why? I have no idea. Eventually, we managed to get the car parked and out bags into the apartment. Took over an hour. The small flat was adequate even though they had skimped a bit on the cleaning. The company got very stroppy with me when I gave them a poor review on booking.com.
Alba is a food-lovers delight. Traditionally, Bologna is the food capital of Italy (and possibly the world) and while I would not dispute this, especially with an Italian, we found Alba to be much more accessible. The city is famous for wine and white truffles, but it is also where Ferrero Rocher and Nutella come from. Some of Italy’s more famous wines such as Barbera, Nebbiolo, Barbaresco, and Barolo originate here. Walking through the gorgeous old centre of the ‘the city of a hundred medieval towers’ we were fascinated by so many specialist food shops selling such a variety of wonderful eatables as to be almost overwhelming. I was intrigued by displays of white truffles each carefully laid out with its weight and price. Eventually, I bought one. We took it home and used it grated onto fresh pasta with butter and garlic. Absolutely fantastic. My mouth is watering just to write about it. I should have bought a couple more.
We headed for the mountains. Northwest across the plains of northern Italy, across the Po Valley, past Milan and then due north past Verona. Our overnight stop was a lovely hotel perched high on the valley side above Lake Garda. As night fell the stars came out and a fire pit was lit just outside of the bar. We could sit out by the fire and drink wine as the darkness closed in. Perfect. In the morning we continued north to the village of Tyrolo just above the Merano. To our delight, the apartment had a balcony which looked out over the village, the town, and the whole valley below it. New Year’s Eve was spent watching everyone else’s fireworks.
The car had started making a terrible noise. The sort of metal-on-metal screech that I imagined was an important transmission bearing failing. The day after the New Year break, we found a garage and they diagnosed a problem with the hand brake. We were assured that the car was safe to drive, they ordered a replacement part and asked us to come back in a week.
In the morning I went skiing. The car still sounded like there was a box of wailing banshees underneath it and people were turning round in the street to look. I drove to the main cable car, but the carpark was packed so I was waved past and directed up the hill. Twenty minutes of screeching and grinding up each steep hairpin bend and I arrived at the bottom of the ski slopes where there was a much larger car park. First day back on the slopes is always a bit tricky. My boots did not fit properly so my feet hurt. My skis did not work properly so I struggled to hold a good line. My legs did not work properly and soon started to cramp up. Apart from that it was great. Remarkably busy for such a small ski area but I did not mind waiting a bit for each lift as it gave me a small rest. By late afternoon I was so tired that I barely noticed the wails of tortured metal as I guided the long-suffering car back down the hill. It was a good day.
We still had several days to wait until we could get the car fixed and they had assured us that it was safe to drive. Next day drove over the Passo Giovo (Jaufenpass) to the lovely town of Vipiteno. The 31 km long, extraordinarily scenic route has the magnificent Ötztal Alps to the north, and the Sarntal Alps to the south. It is a varied and steep road with many switchbacks. Often included in the list of top ten Alpine passes. Because it is such a convenient shortcut it is usually kept open during the winter. We thoroughly enjoyed the drive over. With the windows shut we could barely hear the scaping noise from the transmission.
Next day, I skied and particularly enjoyed the first gondola ride. This takes you from the main car park up to the ski area by going over the busy A22 autostrada. This is one of the most important motorways in Italy. It connects Pianura padana (the Po Valley), the city of Modena and the A1 motorway to Austria. 35,000 vehicles per day, of which 30% are HGVs, use this road to cross the Brenner pass – one of the lowest mountain passes in the Alps and also one of the busiest borders in Europe. It is a remarkable route to drive, from the lowlands up and through the high mountains. We have travelled it many times in motorhomes, in Baloo, on the bike and by car. Every time I have noticed the cable car from Vipiteno. Now I finally got to ride it and found the experience to be remarkably satisfying.
