Our Last Day in San Vigilio, Sheer Terror, and Another Nightmare Flight


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Europe » Italy » Trentino Alto Adige » Mareo
January 17th 2010
Published: January 18th 2010
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On our final full day together, we again started with a lovely breakfast before the skiers headed out. My dad and I relaxed for a little while, before heading into town to take a few pictures. I hate to use the word “cute” to describe the town, but it really is - there is much of the chalet type architecture you would expect (similar to some of those beautiful towns you see on travel programs in Switzerland and Austria). After getting the shots I wanted, we figured it was time to head up to our lunch destination for the afternoon, La Para. Our hostess had told us that it wasn’t too high ("only" halfway up the mountain), so I wasn’t too worried. But as we started to ascend, I knew I was in trouble. Big, big trouble. The road was entirely snow covered, which made me nervous to start with, because the snow covered sidewalks in the village only slightly cover a thick layer of ice - very slippery. The road was also narrow - wide enough just for one car (though it’s a two-way road) and nowhere to pull over if another car came along. It was clear that this wasn’t because of the way the snow had been cleared (like on the way up to Furcia Pass two years ago), but because it was just that narrow. So that would mean if any cars came along, either we or they would have to...back...up...on this scary, scary road. And then the vistas started. For most people, vistas are lovely - suddenly, the view opens up to a huge expanse of sky and land and it’s just breathtaking. But for those who are fearful of heights, it’s a total nightmare. Particularly, if you are on a road without any guardrails, narrow enough for only one car, with steep drops on one side.
We got a little ways up and I thought we were just about there. I was already having trouble looking out the window, and was holding on to the seat tightly (as if that would help if we pitched over the side). I squeezed my eyes shut tightly and hoped we’d be there soon - we saw a building that I thought (hoped) could be the restaurant so I started to relax just a hair. But it turned out that we were only about a third of the way up at that point. As we climbed higher and higher, my terror grew, and I couldn’t help but start to cry. I really felt as though we were going to slide off into nothingness and I didn’t know what we were going to do, because it’s not as if there was enough space or anywhere for my dad to turn around. I considered at one point walking back down (for some reason, heights and cars are way worse for me), but as we got towards the top, I realized I couldn’t do that either. Really, all that I could do was desperately grip the car seat and sob.

We got to the restaurant and my dad just missed the driveway of it, so he had to back up a little to turn into it. I thought I’d pass out. We made it up there and I just kept crying, I couldn't help it. He later admitted that it was even a bit scary to him (which was good that he didn’t tell me until we got back to the bottom), so he decided that we should just turn around and go back down. Slowly.

I couldn’t stop crying and shaking until we got almost to the bottom again, and I was too afraid to let go of the seat to even wipe the tears away. I was terrified enough that I was still shaking six hours later when I put my makeup on for dinner. We decided to go to a little café for some coffee, and I was so shaky when I picked up my cappuccino that I spilled it. Just thinking about it now makes me want to cry all over again.

So I’ve learned that I’m not one of those people who can “get over” their fear of heights by pushing themselves to do things high up. It’s better when I’m at a low altitude!

Unfortunately, the plan for that evening was to go up a mountain for dinner in a little cabin, followed by "sledging" as the Europeans called it, down 2-3km of mountain. Hmm. I didn't want to be a big baby, but I really wasn't sure I'd be able to handle it. I love to sled, but I love to sled down hills, where I can see the top from the bottom! That was what I was thinking when I'd originally enthusiastically agreed to this plan.

Of course, it had all been arranged already, so I felt terrible when my dad talked to our host about pulling us out of the evening's festivities. Especially since the rest of the group agreed that they wouldn't go either, and instead we'd go to dinner together in town, again at Fana Ladina. But it ended up working out for the best, since the group was tired after a second full day of skiing and one of our skiers had been in a collision with another skier on the mountain, and was feeling sore.

We took our time getting ready to head out, chatting, eating some hors d'oeuvres, and with some of the group taking naps. Finally, we left for Fana Ladina, where we were seated at the same table as in 2008, and enjoying the hostessing of the restaurant's owner, Alma, again. It was another night full of laughs, and great food. Alma explained the menu to us in English, German and Italian and we translated a few things in English for her so that she can put them into a future English menu. We started with a local specialty, the name of which I cannot remember - it was pastry pockets full of either sauerkraut or a spinach concoction. We had had something similar at La Bercia on the first evening, and I preferred it there because there was a more equal mixture of spinach with the filling. I can manage spinach if it's well-mixed with something else!

Following that, we had what we dubbed the minced meat salty donut, which is basically how it sounds. They take a salty donut and fill it with a bolognese mixture - delicious! And those were all just for our antipasti! Next, our appetizers came, and the three of us along the wall had pumpkin creme soup, which had whole red pepper in it and was again delicious. A few of us debated skipping straight to dessert, but instead agreed to share the main course. The left side of the table had deer with a cranberry sauce, while the right side of the table had lamb chops, pork and vegetables. I was in the middle, but had the deer, which was very good, particularly when paired with what was essentially some kind of tater tots - I loved those. Thinking about them now makes me hungry all over again! I finished off my dinner with a kind of apfelstrudel with a raspberry sauce, and was happy to roll on back to La Bercia for a few hours of sleep.

It was sad to say goodbye to everyone again, but we agreed to meet again next year for ILNSki Quatre!

The next morning, I was up at five, trying to tiptoe around my room so as not to wake my roommate (I did). Our drive in the dark back to Innsbruck was lovely and I hoped that I could get comfortable enough on our second flight to get some sleep - I was so tired!

After having the loveliest security check ever (small airports are great!), we found out that our flight to Frankfurt would be delayed because of terrible weather there. Awesome. I wouldn't have been worried, but we only had less than two hours to check in and get to the gate when we got to Frankfurt already, so any delay would cut that down. We just hoped that our flight out of Frankfurt would also be slightly delayed so we'd have enough time to also look around and eat something!

But it was not meant to be. We were able to check our bags through to Newark, but had to wait on a line for about fifteen minutes to get our boarding passes, before rushing to the gate, where we found more security. The line wasn't long, but security was tight and running inefficiently, so we were there for a while too. Every person was patted down and wanded, and had to open their bags after going through the x-ray to go through its contents with the security personnel. I certainly felt safer, but thought that they could have been running the lines a little bit better.

When we reached the gate, it was confirmed that we'd have two middle seats (blech) and that the flight was already boarding. We rushed onto the plane, only to find out that the overhead bins in our section were totally full. At this point, the guy sitting on the aisle next to me offered to put my bag in the overhead bin in the cabin ahead of me, so I thought he was really nice. Ha. How wrong that turned out to be!

After we shoe-horned ourselves into our seats and realized how little room we actually had, we waited on the tarmac for a while for other connecting passengers before FINALLY taking off. I stayed awake through the dinner service, and watched the guy next to me drink two cups of wine, two beers and a large cognac before I put on Harry Potter and dozed off.

Suddenly, I was awakened by the guy next to me, shaking me and saying "sorry, sorry" - he was Russian and didn't speak much English. At first he wanted me to assist him with his customs forms. Since we weren't that far into the flight, I couldn't figure out why this had to happen at that very moment, but I decided to help him anyway. The language barrier and his five drinks (plus the one he had now on his tray) were causing him to speak very loudly, and me to get frustrated and speak loudly. He kept giving me irrelevant information for the form, but I finally got it mostly filled out. He handed me a second form, which was entirely in German, and I tried to explain to him that I don't read German. He started telling me other strange things, handing me a copy of a US form already filled out, writing down his name again and his email address, which he told me was just to him (he was married with two kids, who are living in the states). I tried telling him that he needed to talk to the flight attendants, but he kept touching my arm and confusing me with what he was telling me. Finally, my dad had woken up and I got him involved. He finally pressed the guy's flight attendant button, and the attendant came over and we tried to explain the situation. The guy didn't want the flight attendant's help, but kept trying to talk to us and tell us now about a Russian friend he has in NJ who speaks English well. He told us that his name was Joseph and wanted to know if we knew him. Right.

I finally put my headphones on to watch a movie and drown him out - I thought it was rude, but I couldn't get him to leave me alone. My dad told him again and again that we didn't understand what he wanted and he needed to talk to the flight attendant, who he had told that all he wanted was a glass of red wine and a translator. Since they don't just keep Russian translators on Germany-US flights, he said he'd have to wait until they landed and since we had told him that we thought the guy had had too much to drink he FINALLY cut him off. Though the guy did try the rest of the flight to get more alcohol about every half hour.

Despite having my headphones on, the guy continued to talk to me. My dad finally yelled at him to stop and he left me alone for a few minutes. But then shortly, he was tapping me on the shoulder again, saying "sorry, sorry." So I finally yelled at him too and told him to leave me alone. I hate to be rude, but this guy just would NOT leave me alone and we couldn't figure out what his problem was. I spent the rest of the flight sitting awkwardly to try to avoid touching him, and was so glad when we landed. He left the aisle quickly, which was good, but ended up a couple of people behind us at passport control (yes, despite the fact that we were on the US line) and then was right next to us while waiting for our bags. We thought they'd detain him at passport control, but they didn't. FINALLY he was gone, and I could breathe easier. It was so good to be home!!

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9th February 2010

Hi Lindsay
Hi..... I finally had a free moment to send you an email. Hope you are well. I enjoy reading your blogs . :) Sounds like you are a having a blast. ;) School is good, and I am still teaching the second graders. I am going for my masters' degree too so I am busy. talk to you soon, Chris
4th June 2010

Hi Chris! I'm sorry I haven't gotten to write you back yet - for some reason, travelblog doesn't alert me when I have a comment, so I've only just seen it now that I'm traveling again! Good for you getting your masters - that's great! I hope you're doing well! Lindsay

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