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Published: January 16th 2012
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mountains!
the view from the front of the house Since arriving in Biella 3 days ago, I've learned a few key phrases such as Mi chiamo Alison (my name is Alison), dove il bagno (where is the bathroom) and Mangio una mandarina (I'm eating a mandarine). This, however, can only get you so far in a conversation, so I mostly just say "no parlo italiano".
After my 9 hour layover in London after an overnight flight without sleep, I was delighted to be greeted at the house by two smiling faces, Jacapo (13) and Gaia (6). It was such a warm welcome which involved homemade pizza made by the 13 year old. I don't know any kid his age in Canada who could do that, so in my opinion that's pretty darn cool. For those of you who know me well, you know that pizza is my all time favourite food EVER and it has been my dream for a long time to eat real Italian Pizza. This said, I really couldn't have asked for a better welcome to my home for the next 6 months.
The house I'm living in is quite old, over a century, and although I know much older things exist in this country,
Frosty rice fields
View from the back of the house its still pretty fascinating since in Canada a 50 year old house is considered ancient (according to some people). From one side of the house, there is a view of the rice fields for miles, and from the other side, a great view of the snow-topped mountains. I feel so grateful to be living in such a gorgeous place! We live about 1 km from a small village called Massazza where you can find a small grocery store, a restaurant whose specialty is fried frogs from the rice fields, and not much else. 10 km away is the town of Biella where Samantha, my host, works as an owner of a private English school and where the kids go to school. On my second day, I journeyed around town while Samantha was at work. I was under the impression that Biella would be a small town but its actually much bigger than I had imagined. Like most European towns and cities, it's an incredible mix of old and new. There is a shopping mall which when I asked if it was good, I was told "no, it only has very low quality stores like H&M and things like that". Although
I don't necessarily disagree with this statement, that's the only kind of store I'll be able to afford in this country of Gucci and Prada and Fabio whatever his name is... However, this opinion is expected of an italian.
That afternoon, we went to a cafe-bar for a drink with Samantha's mother and aunt, who are twin sisters from Dublin. This explains the family's impeccable English. I ordered a hot chocolate and got something that resembled very hot chocolate pudding. Don't get me wrong, it was absolutely delicious, but I might not order it again unless i'm craving desert.
Friday was Samantha's birthday, so on saturday afternoon Paolo's (Samantha's husband) mother and brother came over for lunch. Jacapo and Samantha made zuchinni risotto and Paolo's mother made rabbit! I had heard that she is a fantastic cook so I was looking forward to tasting her creation. I think it's the first time I've had rabbit, and i'm sure some of you reading this don't believe that I actually ate it, but I did. I liked it, especially since it was cooked by an Italian chef (pretty much), but I only ate a little because I didn't enjoy pulling
tiny bones out of my mouth after every bite. After lunch came the moment I had been dreading since before I arrived. Driving standard...
We began in Samantha's car which is quite new and it seemed quite easy. I made it into town with only a few near death experiences on the many roundabouts and narrow streets. I was gaining confidence until I had to parallel park into a european parking space, meaning it was TINY. I even managed that after about 10 tries. BUT THEN, in the middle of downtown, I had to switch cars. This is the car I will be driving. Its old, and touchy, and everything I hate about driving standard. Needless to say, it was not a fun drive home. I still need to practice a bit more before I can drive the kids.
Yesterday, we drove up the winding mountain roads of the Valle d'aosta to go snowboarding/skiing. It was a gorgeous drive through numerous small towns. Since this region is on the boarder of Italy and France, the architecture begins to look more and more French. Apparently to go to school and work in many of these towns, you have to
have quite a good knowledge of French. Everyone in the car was quite sleepy still so it was very quiet, until I (louder than necessary) screamed "CASTLE!". On top of a hill, towering over a cliff, there was a big medeival-looking castle. I'm not used to seeing such things on a casual drive to the ski hills, so you can imagine my excitement. Nobody else seemed to care, claiming "ya, they're kind of everywhere..." Everywhere in the world has its own beauty, and we tend to take for granted the kind of beauty that we're accustomed to.
We skied at Cervinia, which is the second highest peak of the Alps. It was gorgeous, but I didn't bring my camera on the slopes, so you'll just have to believe me. The snow was great, real powder! You rarely get that where I'm used to going. I'm looking forward to doing some more snowboarding in the next couple of months. When we got home, the best meal I've had in my life was waiting for us. Paolo made, from scratch of course, pumpkin gnocchi. It was phenomenal and I've asked if I can watch him make it next time.
Here's
hoping for continuing the good memories...
Arrivederci
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Rowan
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Wow, you've seen (and eaten) so many marvelous things in such a short time. What a welcome! Keep the updates coming.