Alagna: Pistes, bells and hospitality

Typical ‘street’ in the old part of Alagna.

Alagna is not for the feint hearted; serious skiing goes on here. Our boys, with their passion for off-piste, would love it. We often saw skiers gliding through virgin snow in remote ‘vales’ almost to themselves… It must be a very special experience, but you need to know what you are doing as the danger of avalanches in this area is very real. So much so they have a helicopter on some days which goes up and drops ‘bombe’ on the vulnerable areas before the skiers arrive.

Snow’s a bit thick in places…; this is actually a three storey house in the summer!

After a day’s skiing we often saw many professional skiers strip off a few layers to sit and relax with a beer. It is then you see how much equipment they have had to carry. The backpacks are stuffed with spare clothing and enough rescue equipment to start a shop; they all wear body armour, helmets and radio transceivers strapped to them. There was MOG moaning about having his pockets full chocolate bars…!

One day our venture over the mountain resulted in a rapid change in the weather. Once again we found ourselves in high winds but this time they were so cold our eyes were streaming; inside the goggles. The trusted “il grande pompon nero”, well we are in Italy now, was not sufficient to prevent my ears suffering from severe frost bite! At the top of the mountains the chill factor can be as much as -20˚C; if you add that to the ‘real’ temperature of -5-10˚C…that’s ruddy cold by anybody’s standards. One problem MOG has had to overcome is the thought of a ‘cioccolata calda’ laced with some other warming substance is now off the menu; it needs every bit of concentration to ski..., ohh for the gentle slopes of Les Gets!

The sound of church bells is synonymous with Italy as cappuccino and spaghetti. Alagna is graced with a fabulous church, the north facing wall being decorated with some impressive murals.

Church & Mural

The priest here is described as a ‘character’ and, from the stories I have been told, sounds more like an English eccentric; but make no mistake this man is truly admired and an important corner stone for the local community. I had the pleasure of meeting him after the service and his eyes revealed everything you needed to know; sincere but full of mischief! Our apartment overlooks his house where he has converted the small courtyard into a volley ball court; with flood lights, and netting to stop the ball from crashing into the surrounding apartments. The other story goes that he happens to support Juventus football club, (whoever they are…! I did refrain from telling them I support Liverpool!), and when the team wins an important match he can’t resist “peeling the bells”. On one such occasion he rang them so loudly, and for so long, people up in the surrounding hills thought something was amiss and made their way to the church post-haste; only to find the priest still smiling with delight at ‘una vittoria di Juve’.

Another small church, almost ‘chapel like’, on the outskirts of the village

To say the people here are hospitable is an understatement. Last Thursday morning we awoke to find a small local market parked outside the apartment. We kitted ourselves up for skiing and stomped out and through the stalls being careful with our skies…well we are not in France anymore. FOG, of course, couldn’t resist examining the stalls and her head was swivelling around like an umpire at Wimbledon when, crash, she didn’t notice some ice and she went one way and her skies went flying into a stall laden with flower arrangements, or they were arranged before the skies hit them. La signora comes round and helps FOG and despite my beloved apologies and offers to try and clear up the mess she was shooed away with smiles and reassuring, “Niente, niente…”

Likewise in the local bars owners and locals alike are genuinely interested in you. I have had a problem in trying to explain OGGY, especially the “old gits” part. They have insisted the strict translation is “vecchi pensionati”. Pensionati! Not on your life, we’re keeping the gits, well something very similar. There is an old Italian adage that says, “Why use one word when two will do”. This is actually a fact. One of our hosts was trained as a translator and she estimates Italian takes three times as long to say something than English. Well here goes OGGY in Italian:

“Il anno di pausa durante il quale ‘vecchi giti’ viaggiano o lavorano”

IADPDIQVGVOL, doesn’t quite have the same ring to it… Plus what’s all this lavorano; isn’t that something to do with work?

The family hospitality has been so immense the Old Gits are sometimes lost for words, but were treated to a special surprise the other night.

View of Alagna from the balcony

We were asked to dinner by the youngest son and his girlfriend. We met in one of our local bars “Mario’s” for a pre-supper drink, apparently essential for the journey to the house, we folded ourselves into a Fiat Punto and proceeded up a tiny track covered in a layer of ice…the snow ploughs don’t reach these parts. The snow was so thick we had two walls of solid snow both sides and all I could remember was our host informing us of the constant danger of avalanches in these parts…, however we made it. A hamlet of four ancient houses crouched in the snow, the scent of log burners mingled with the aromas of cooking.

Raclette was being prepared as we settled into a room that could have been the film set for Hansel & Gretel. We wined and dined the night away in surreal surroundings. I was grateful our host had a responsible job and was flying in a couple of days so he had volunteered to drive us all the way home which meant it was MOG doing most of the ‘wining & dining’. On the journey down the mountain a young deer jumped into the road in front of us; the walls of snow each side preventing her escape. Our host slowed down until an opening appeared and the animal could escape ‘the run’; it may look idyllic here but it a harsh life for man and beast.