Tag Archives: hiking

Cruising the Mediterranean: Fortifications & Volcanoes

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The Placa, Dubrovnik’s main pedestrian promenade

Through a series of fortunate events, I ended up sailing on a Royal Caribbean cruise a couple weeks ago, departing from Venice with stops in the port cities of Dubrovnik, Croatia; Kusadasi, Turkey; Santorini and Corfu, Greece. It was the first cruise I’d ever been on, and thus, it was the worst (and best) cruise of my life. The sunsets were beautiful, the lox & bagels delicious (my first since leaving the US), and the ship rocked at a frequency of 1/10 hz for only one night (the frequency most prone to causing seasickness). The week was so fabulous, I almost stopped pining for internet access.
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Hiking the Männlichen Summit

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View from Männlichen into the Grindelwald valley

In German, the word for hiking is wandern, and can be expanded to mean anything from migrating, journeying and wandering. And indeed, you can do quite a lot of hiking in Switzerland simply by wandering from signpost to signpost on the country’s 50,000 km of marked trails. Even the smallest mountain outposts are easily found via an intricate system of wanderwege routes (marked by yellow signs) found between lakes, valleys and towns, higher altitude bergwege mountain paths (marked by white-red-white blazes), and rugged alpine routen trails (marked by white & blue blazes) that can include steep drop-offs and sections with cables or handholds.

Since the phrase “relaxing vacation” is not in our vocabulary, Britton and I spent our last day in Berner-Oberland hiking. The guide at Balmer’s suggested taking the train from Interlaken to Wengen (with a train transfer at Lauterbrunnen). Round-trip tickets for this cost about CHF 25. From Wengen (1,274 m), we would hike the route to In Gassen and Männlichen (2,227 m), then walk along the mountain ridge to Kleine Scheidegg (2,061 m), and finally trek downhill from Kleine Scheidegg toward Wengernalp back to Wengen.  On the Jungfraubahnen Wandern map, that would be routes 46, 33 and 41.

The morning was marked with a heavy downpour and ominously thick cloud cover, and I silently fretted about what we were going to do if the rain didn’t ease. Fortunately, the skies cleared at about 10:30 am, and we set off with backpacks full of bread, cheese, salame and light clothing. Personally, I think that hiking in sneakers is often safer than using thick-soled hiking boots because you will have a better feel for the terrain. Besides, hiking boots are heavy, and that extra weight goes a long way when you are scaling a mountain. The same goes for hiking poles; they can be helpful if you’re going downhill, but for the most part, you’re better off using your hands for balance and feet to feel the ground. I had to laugh at the hikers decked out in shiny layers of North Face and poles on flat sections of trail. Newbs.
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Hiking and Ruminating the Italian Alps

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Clockwise: Mural of a mountain goat and cow outside Fratelli Lussiana creamery, fresh wheels of cevrin in warm room, foothills of Piedmont, aging wheels of cevrin in cold room

A couple weeks ago while on the Piedmont stage, our class visited Fratelli Lussiana creamery, a cheese producer in Giaveno, about 35 km west of Turin. The primary cheese they produce is cevrin di Coazze, made with half goat and half cow’s milk and aged for 3 months. At the time, I was tired, hot and not in the mood to see yet another farm, but we all fell headlong in love with this cheese producer. After showing us an overview of the cheesemaking process and aging rooms, the lovely Lussiana siblings piled us into a hay-filled tractor and trundled us up a narrow, rocky mountain path, while we tried to keep our balance, yodeled and ducked under overhanging tree branches. Once we reached the mountaintop farm, we were greeted by a herd of seriously dexterous goats, placidly ruminating cows, and the friendliest donkey in the world (who kept sneaking into photos and nuzzling for attention). The farm caretakers welcomed us with fresh wheels of cevrin, salame, bread and red wine, and we ate cheese next to the animals who produced the milk for it, as the sun went down over the Italian Alps. It was one of the best days of my life.

Determined to recapture some of that high, some of my classmates decided to contact Fratelli Lussiana and ask if they would allow us to return for a second visit. Only, this time we wanted to see the cevrin making process, which happens every morning at 6 am. With the 90 minute drive from Bra, this meant that we would be setting out on a 4:30 am road trip. Totally worth it!

After duly waking up at a rather uncivilized hour, the first challenge was figuring out how to get back to the creamery. We were armed with an address of questionable accuracy (the GPS was telling us to go to a different town) and also a phone number. To complicate matters, no one present was terribly fluent in Italian. So, over the next hour, we called three times, and using an amalgamation of broken Italian and French, managed to get within a few streets of the creamery. As we drove through Giaveno, desperately looking for familiar landmarks, we spotted an elderly gentlemen walking briskly down the street. I rolled down a window and asked him for directions to Fratelli Lussiana, and he broke into a toothy grin and began to wave wildly. Seeing our blank reactions, the man said, “You know what, I’d better just point out the way myself, do you mind if I hop in the car?” And before I knew it, I was scooting to make room for a swarthy Italian man in the backseat. We explained that we were students at the University of Gastronomic Sciences, interested in cheesemaking, and he said “Ah yes, of course! Who do you know of the Lussiana brothers? Oh Luigi, yes I know Luigi!” Within a few minutes, he had steered us to the creamery. We thanked him for his help and asked if he needed a ride back. “No no, I walk a lot, 20 km a day! I’ll be just fine.” He stuck his head into the barn to say hello to Luigi, and sauntered off back into town.
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Infrequently Asked Questions on Cinque Terre

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Overhead view of Vernazzo, on the trail towards Monterosso

What is Cinque Terre?

Cinque Terre, or “five lands,” is a series of small seaside towns in the Italian Riviera, in the Liguria region. It is widely known for being one of the most beautiful places on earth, and is recognized as a UNESCO Heritage Site. Visitors can hike the trails between the five towns and be rewarded with gorgeous cliffside views of the sea. Unfortunately, the booming popularity of the region has turned Cinque Terre into something more akin to Disneyland, particularly during the high summer season. The influx of American tourists toting Rick Steve’s guidebooks, kitschy souvenir shops and high prices has warped the towns into a bit of a tourist trap, where more English is spoken than Italian.

Where do we get a terrible night’s sleep?

I highly recommend the apartments at 9 Via Visconti. When we were looking for rooms (about 10 days before), this was literally the last room left in town, and at a rather pricey €45 per person to boot. However, the apartment was centrally located, and we’d wanted easy beach access which is available in Vernazza. Good thing our money was going towards a friendly landlord, who told us he was “very busy” when we asked if he could replace the broken fan, and that we could leave if we didn’t like the apartment because there were “lots of other people waiting for the room.” Cramped beds and stifling heat aside, there is a dance party on the beach till 1 am on Saturday nights, so you can toss and turn to the pulsating beat of Lady Gaga. Normally, I wouldn’t have minded this (I’d be out on the beach dancing), but we had decided to go hiking the next morning at 8 am…After the DJ sent everyone home, the neighbors came trooping in. As it turns out, our central hall was also the hallway leading to two other apartments, and those doors were not storage closets after all. There’s nothing like meeting the neighbors as you lie sprawled out in bed. And for the finale, a flock of curiously nocturnal seabirds began squawking noisily at each other. This symphony continued for the rest of the night, as I dreamed about the number of ways I could roast the seagulls.
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