Forget the GORP! To fuel up for our hike in the lower Italian Alps I indulged in the most succulent chop I have ever devoured, with a delicately crispy exterior, a delightfully drippy sage-butter sauté, and crunchy, buttery, earthy leaves of sage. The interior of this veal chop was lusciously medium rare and flavorful and ever more delicious when dipped into the puddles of sage infused butter on the plate. Along with a glass of frosty Prosseco this meal at the timeless Ristorante Trattoria Terme gave me the sustenance I needed to get up the hill.
I’ll admit the dreamy veal chop and bubbly may have slowed me a bit on the initial steep incline of the Mulattiera {Mule trail} per Castelvittorio Chiesa Madonna Assunta. But knowing that this route has been the connector for people and animals from the lowest valley to the highest point of these beautiful wooded hills for centuries gave me the curiosity I needed to continue on.
Soon, we were richly rewarded with dramatic views down to the hilltown of Pigna and an overview of the massive Grande Hotel Pigna Antiche Term {the large building on the left), the spa that captured the famed waters from Lac Piga which we explored in The Mysteries of Santa Maria Assunta de lago pigo…
Above, the granite slopes were engulfed in a verdant tapestry dotted with ancient structures, stone walls built for traditional tiered gardening that have held up to the tests of time,
and orchards of sage green olive trees with tiny green olives that will be plump and black in November when they will be harvested and cured or pressed to make olive oil.
Higher up in the hills we came across this church, isolated, oozing with patina,
and beautifully aged but still a vital part of this alpen community.
I couldn’t help but to peek into one of the barred windows, with a desire to learn more about the area. It seemed to be decorated for a wedding with colorful mesh flowers attached to the the rustic pews. Such an interesting view into the simple life led by this community.
Of course, this visit brought back memories of the last time I was in these hills, on the back of my sweet, candied ginger loving horse Usalaine, riding from France through Italy and back in the final days of October.
That’s when I first discovered these sweet shrines located in the more remote sections of the Alps, for those who may not be able to make it to a church, I suppose. Each one filled with personal affects and meaningful momentos related to stories we will never know, yet another clue into the Italian Alpen life.
I was grateful to have been able to do that ride, it had been a dream and a goal for years. It was beautiful and thrilling. I am also grateful I made it back in one piece.
To come along on that adventure click on: Horsing Around in the Alps, What Have I Gotten Myself Into?, This is f*@#ing Insane, The Ride to Pigna, Onto the highest Peak & Crossing the Line.
Today, I think I prefer the calm and physical effort of exploring the Alps on my own two feet.
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