Roy called this a father and son trip. A time for boys to be boys. They would scramble over impossibly craggy terrain, summit massive rocks with boyish glee and pick their way along narrow paths with steep drops on one side—all under my disapproving eye if I could help it. I never truly saw how alike Roy is to his father until this trip. The impatience on the road. The generous flood of sauce over every forkful. The calm assurance that glowed as pure positivity. If Roy’s mother and I had gone off shopping for the day, they would have raced a rented Harley Davidson through the winding mountain roads. We always ensured that one stayed behind of course, to watch over the mischief. 

LAGO DI BRAIES

If there was a place that could save us from the summer heat, it would be the Lago di Braies. We were exceptionally inept at the Dolomites. There was no air conditioning and no fan. The air was still, even at night in our Ortisei apartment. The La Bar restaurant just downstairs did serve Neapolitan pizza, which by Roy’s standards made the apartment almost perfect. And so, the lake came as a respite from the heat and so did the two-hour walk around it. People in swimsuits were jumping into the emerald glacial waters and we watched enviously, wishing we had thought to bring our own. Close to lunch, Roy’s father was eyeing the tempting hot dogs but we had other plans: Daniel and Manuel’s lake fish and seared tuna at Thara See Lounge. It was a 45-minute drive but in the grandeur of the Dolomites, it felt like nothing. And of course, for the promise of good food by a fishing lake. 

CORTINA D’AMPEZZO

Like many, we were curious about Cortina d’Ampezzo. The first time I heard about Cortina was from The Talented Mr Ripley with references to a ski getaway for a group of wealthy American vacationers. Naturally, I pictured an ultra sophisticated clientele: men and women in fur-trimmed coats sipping après-ski. Alas, reality did not quite match the dream. While it did have its fair share of boutiques, it seemed that the weather had turned unkind. The rain clouds rolled in after a whole morning and afternoon of pure sunshine. All of this happened so quickly and thankfully, we managed to have a gelato before it started pouring. In the end, Cortina felt less like a film set and more like a pretty town where we ran in the rain to our car, our scarves flying in the wind. 

RIFUGIO SCOIATTOLI

It did not take much convincing for us to take the cable car up to Cinque Torri. I was completely unprepared in my dress and sandals, imagining it would only be a simple drive. But as it so often happens in Italy, the road was closed with no prior notice, as some hikers informed us while inspecting the sign. It was either an expensive cable car ride or a sweltering hike up. “It’s very very steep,” he said discouragingly after casting doubtful glances at my outfit. So the cable car it was. The views of the five peaks were as breathtaking as Roy’s father had promised and when we got to the Rifugio Scoiattoli, we did not want to leave. We had a cream-filled bombolone earlier and had the good sense to come back for lunch. The mountain views through the glassed facade were spectacular and with them came even more spectacular plates of venison ragu and beetroot ravioli. I was in the mood for something regional and there it was: mountain ingredients with Italian sensibilities. Italy still manages to surprise every now and then.