Expectations

Author’s note:  This post covers the day of July 22^nd.  I wrote it in our sobe (the room we’re staying in) on the morning of July 27^th.

When we woke up at 8:30 on the 22^nd after a second consecutive night of only 5 hours sleep, we didn’t know exactly what to expect.  Matteo had lured us to Italy with the concert, and had persuaded us to stay an extra day with the promise of a party in the beachside town of Lignone later that night.  So we anticipated having a great night, but weren’t sure what the morning would hold.  Matteo suggested renting bikes and riding along a trail to go get lunch, which sounded fine.

We had breakfast downstairs at the hotel and then tossed our bags in the car.  We went to pick up our bikes, and while we were waiting for a fourth guy to join us, Matteo’s friend Simone, I grabbed some Gatorade from a supermarket.

We started riding, and it was beautiful.  We rode in between the mountains and along a river.  I was temporarily saddened by the thought that this could have been our weather the day before as we were driving over Grossglockner, but such is life.  The mountains were gorgeous, the weather was perfect for riding, just a little cool so that you don’t sweat at all; the only difficulty was our navigation skills.  We completely rode past the town we were aiming for, and ended up going much further than we anticipated.

The food at the “cacciatore” we ate at was great.  The “frica” (spelling?) was awesome, some kind of cheese and potato cake.  We also had polenta and a goat stew.  The ride back saw more amazing weather, but now we were riding both uphill and against the wind, so it was a little more difficult.  But Simone is not an athlete like Brian, myself, or, as I learned, Matteo, so the three of us could ride pretty easy and take breaks to relax as we waited for Simone to catch up.  I spent some time relaxing in the sun, and another time I washed my face in an Alpine stream.

I really don’t have any pictures of the day, because I was GoProing much of the time rather than stopping to take pictures every minute or so.

By the time we got back, we had ridden a nearly 40km “Giro di Tarvisio” and it was already 5 PM.  So we hopped in our cars and grabbed gas before heading down to the coast.  Matteo dropped off Simone, then we continued to a train station where Matteo’s girlfriend, and also friends with Smith, Martina, met us.  We all piled into Matteo’s car to drive to Lignone, but on the way we stopped off at a roadside outdoor bar.  This is a special kind of bar (I forget the name) that is only allowed to operate during certain months of the year, and is only allowed to sell wine that is made on site.  Basically, we were drinking and being served small snacks in someone’s frontyard, while their backyard was a vineyard.  The wine wasn’t great, but you couldn’t beat the atmosphere.  Old men and neighbors milled around drinking, talking, and laughing.  The oyster shell ashtrays let you know that this place was simple and traditional.

After a few glasses of wine we headed off to Lignone.  Getting there was easy, but the parking situation was terrible.  We probably spent 20 minutes looking for a parking spot, but we found one, and walked down to the street one away from the water.  It was Matteo and Martina’s friend’s birthday, but not until midnight.  We were introduced to everyone, but it became apparent pretty quickly that we didn’t fit in here.  The bar was very pop, cool, a place to be seen.  And we were tired from lack of sleep, exhausted from bike riding, and wearing clothes meant to be traveled in, not fit for the club scene.

Matteo’s friends were very generous, paying for drinks and food for everyone that came to attend the party, even ones like us that they didn’t really know.  But this was not the exciting party I was expecting.  We couldn’t understand a word of the conversation.  I tried talking with a girl from Barcelona, to practice my Spanish as much as anything, but she wanted to talk with her friends, fair enough.  It was funny that Matteo didn’t really seem to fit this crowd either.  He’s very easygoing and knew many of the people, so he could certainly talk with them, but this kind of bar didn’t really fit any of us.  So, we hopped down to the beach for a bit, then later we left to grab a drink (and a seat) at another bar.  I felt bad because Matteo’s friends were being so generous, but I was beat, and needed to sit down and relax.

Actually, I needed to sleep, but we couldn’t leave yet.  We were waiting for midnight.  Midnight struck, we sang happy birthday, well, the Italian version, and said our goodbyes.  Matteo drove back to the train station, then we got in our car to follow him to his house where we would spend the night.

It was all going fine until we reached a tollbooth.  We had to stop and pay, while Matteo drove through the electronic pass.  We didn’t see him when we left, drove for a while, called him, he said he catch up with us, but we never saw him.  So we followed the signs for Pordenone, where he said he lived.  We got off in Pordenone and tried to call him, but Smith’s phone had no reception.  I was getting cranky.  We were lost.  In a small town in Italy.  It was past 1 AM.  We had no cell phone.  I was tired.  I had to just keep driving around until Smith got reception again.  He called and Matteo met us at the exit we had gotten off at, and we followed him to his house.

There, we tiptoed around the house to avoid waking his parents, I showered, and gloriously fell asleep.

So the day ended in far less exciting fashion than I had expected, but the morning was awesome.  Goes to show you how expectations can be dashed when you’re traveling.