Last week we headed back to Vinschgau for more mountain biking adventures. We managed to work up an appetite and the above photo collage provides a few highlights. We tried to be better prepared and bought the regional food guide, Genießen in Südtirol: Gastronomieführer Vinschgau. It helped a bit especially for discovering the hidden Biergarten nestled in the woods in Latsch and scoring a sweet bowl of fresh picked strawberries in Martell.

The opening hours of most restaurants are a lot of times hit and miss for crazies like us who spend hours pedaling up a mountain just for the thrill to speed downhill in 20 minutes. Often times we arrived in town around 3pm to discover kitchens were closed until dinner. Lunch sometimes included a heaping bowl of gelato. Since I’m not a big souvenir collector bought the cookbook, Südtiroler Leibgerichte by Hanna Perwanger, hopefully this Oma’s mad cooking skills will rub off on me.

And we so dined…

Gasthaus Krone
Jausenstation Bierkeller
Pension Gasthof Zufritt

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Here’s a video slideshow of our trip, as a present to Alex from his parents for earning his Doktor-Ing. Google reduced the quality, but also our camera couldn’t take the intense sunshine or we’re just unskilled, hobby photographers. One day, I’ll learn to edit better. But with this digital age, I’ve forgotten how to be more choosy. Enjoy.

Signs, Signs

Occasionally, you’ll find a few info signs written with a bit of English text, but one thing is for sure, every thing is written twice – in German or Italian. As we drove along, the languages on signs would flip-flop between villages. We figured if Italian was written on top, then Italian was the majority language for this particular village. In Kastellbell, where we stayed, German was on top. But it’s not like the German I know: ein bissel is süddtirolish for ein bisschen or a little.

Maxing the Mountains

Mountain biking here is insane. The day after we arrived, we attempted to ride up to St. Martin, an elevation difference of 1200 meters. I’m an out-of-shape flatlander, but I wasn’t going to let that stop me from victory. But we didn’t make it. Blast the sun and somewhere an hour or so into the trek we realized we didn’t have any money with us. I was demoralized at the thought of having no beer at the summit. Good thing my bike is a dream, but demanded way more skill than I could muster. On the downhill trail, I fell off my bike because my tire got stuck on a pinecone. Geesus. A pinecone! Mr. Cube forgave me and luckily I live to tell the tale.

Alex had some really ambitious (he’ll hate that I said this because he things ambition is a negative word) biking plans that I went along with, with reservation. He’s awesome with the uphill battles where as I struggle with the lowest gear settings. There is some wacky coordination one must develop with peddling up hill or you’ll quickly tire yourself out. Oh but it was worth it to ride to Reschensee and back even if it took 8 hours and major butt pain. The car ride is only a tenth as beautiful.

Apfel Paradies

Miles and miles of apple orchards and none of them were for a’pluckin. My stomach growled for just a bite. The apples that were available for breakfast were crisp, juicy, and had no waxy feel on the skin. The Opa, owner of the hotel, explained that apple farmers don’t add wax to apples, rather apples produce the wax on their own as they age. I’m not sure if that’s true. So I took a fresh, wax-free, breakfast apple and I’m waiting to see if it produces wax. But farmers do gas their apples and we got to taste it as we rode past an orchard. *gasp* *pee-uuu* I got my yearly intake of pesticide in just 3 seconds.

Accommodations

We stayed at Bauhof, a three star hotel. It’s three stars because of the amenities they offer like a swimming pool, sauna, massage, etc. But if you don’t use these things I’d imagine any place in Vinschgau would be a pleasant stay because of the close-knit, family atmosphere and the fact that tourism is key here. The hotel is situated between to the main road and the S-bahn. Noise is not too bad because the straight flowing Etsch River blocks most of the sound. All rooms have breakfast included and for seven Euros more per night, per person, a five-course dinner is served at 6:30 pm. We weren’t used to so much food for 7 evenings straight and the quality is a just above cafeteria style. This is perfect for families and non-adventures taste buds who want a mix of continental and regional cuisine. If you like dinner time to be flexible, don’t eat as much in the evening, or don’t mind driving/riding outside of Kastelbell, I’d recommend evenings out in other restaurants that specialize in serving the regional cuisine.

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Gelateria

The first gelato I had was called CioccoChocco or something similar. It was double chocolate with coconut flakes -a heavenly balance of cool, cream, and chocolatey goodness. It would be hard to go back to Germany knowing there would always be better gelato here in Rome. And after this one scoop, it will be impossible to convince myself to accept an ice cream in the U.S. The Marble Slab has nothing on this Italian gelato! My second scope was Pistachio. Oh. It tasted so nutty and not too sweet. Just whatever you do here in Rome, don’t go Giolitti Gelateria. The gelato taste like it’s made from powder. Yeah there might be over 50 flavors but you have to wait in a line sometimes stretching out of the door to get your fake gelato. Go anywhere else -like San Crispino, Via della Panetteria 42. They offer Gelato without preservatives and artificial coloring. I had the licorice gelato, ah divine and unique!

The Others

There are few people begging on the streets, most I saw were women. So sad. On our way back to our B&B, a man with a big belly made attempts to sleep in his car under a pile of newspapers. Another time, we walked by a man with a ridiculously unkept toupee. Odd because although the majority of men where dressed shabby, the hair remained flawless. Watch out for the men from India selling roses, they are aggressive little buggers. When it rains they ditch the flowers for umbrellas. If you are brave enough to walk without an umbrella on such an occasion you must also brave the Umbrella pushers. They are at every corner and shoving their collection in your face.

Security

Don’t scratch your butt in public -on the streets, that is. There are cameras at every corner and incrementally if it is an especially long building. “Don’t you feel unusually safe? A creepy safe” I waved at a few cameras, not like they’ll notice. Who can watch all that security footage? There are cops everywhere doing less than cop stuff -nothing. I spotted one leaning against the car eating ice cream. With so little ‘cop’ exercise it was good to know that a few cops had a telephone cord attached to their gun in case it happened to spring from their holsters.

Tally up the Flirts

So a graying, thin haired man in a suit guarding the side tunnel to Vatican Wall near the Piazza Risorgimento gave me a Ciao bella after I looked up at him with a smile. It was by accident, I’d say, because I was happily scrolling through our pictures at that very moment. It was cute. I got the most attention when the boys got to talking about cars and fell into their natural man cadence, leaving me behind to get further distracted. Another encounter happened again at the Piazza del Popolo. As I was walking by the church of Santa Maria del Popolo when a man in a suit spoke in Italian to me. I almost answered him in German because I’ve been speaking German almost exclusively with the boys and any time I hear a foreign accent my brain switches to the only foreign language it knows, although English is universal. He then spoke in English and told me there is a very beautiful painting inside the church. Then he said that he was surprised I didn’t speak Italian because I look Italian. Oh? I look Italian? There’s another nationality tally I can add to my list proving I’m morphing Betty Crocker‘s cousin.

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