Aosta

Greetings:

Mary (Gini’s step-mom) was so excited as we disembarked from the train in Aosta. Memories of Giovanni, Vincenzo and all were still fresh but here we were – festival time. It is actually called a Fiera in Italian and Foire in French. St. Ours is the patron saint of the fair and according to all the posters this was the 1009th celebration! Talk about tradition!

Mary’s cousin, Maurice, had also come to the train station to help us. He had grown up in Aosta and his mother and brother still live here. Mary was staying with her Aunt Marie (Maurice’s mother) in a condo very close to the center of town.

We dragged our luggage to the Hotel Europe which was about 50 meters from the main piazza and all the excitement. It was Thursday evening and the fair would start tomorrow and continue through Saturday. The view from the hotel was ‘quite good’:


Aosta has strong Roman roots along with its French and Italian governance over the centuries.

Maurice had recommended a restaurant before he left. He and his wife Paula would meet us tomorrow when the fair started.

Ah – once again ‘Chiuso’ (closed). As we searched for a restaurant we were by one of the ancient Roman porte (gates). The next day this gate would be where Gini and Mary would get some shopping momentum:

As you can see the walls are quite thick. But this being Thursday night we ‘discovered’ a restaurant that had been built into the wall, long, long ago. Appropriately it was called Ristorante Vecchio Ristorato (Old Restored Restaurant).

It was a gourmet feast. Vincenzo had recommended a local dish called mocetta. We began the meal with that and in the next few days realized the way this was served was not the normal style. It is very thin slices of pork that had been elaborately treated and served with honey, chestnuts and lard (don’t freak!). Mary was served ratatouille in an elegantly shaped pastry cup. The half bottle of chianti went perfectly with the next course of beef and polenta and the freshly made desserts made a perfect end to the experience.

The next day we took a shot of the restaurant in the wall:


Mary demanded an early start so were out there at 9AM. It is essentially an arts fair during the day that concentrates on woodworking and a musical, dancing festival at night. This all takes place in a valley that is surrounded by such Alps as Mount Blanc, Cervino (the Matterhorn) and MonteRosa.

So as we entered the Roman gate we were given our first view of the crowds filling the streets (we are talking tens of thousands of people here):

As Gini says, this is really an arts fair and not crafts. Here are some examples of the incredible compositions among the hundreds of tables and displays:





It was all very creative and exquisite.

Our bought-for-the-trip camera has been very good but it uses batteries quickly. (Recharger mandatory next time no matter how much room it takes up in the luggage). A quick stop in a local music store to replenish our supply proved serendipitous:

The proprietor really enjoyed Chris’ story (in Italian, of course) of how, when he taught college, he would use the projector in the large lecture hall to display that this was the name of the course and not Fortran or Basic or Calculus.

Maurice and Paula met us at 11:00AM and explored many of the streets and exhibits with us. Maurice would later return but soon Paula had to work.

Mary had convinced her Aunt Marie that these Americans were not hostile and were low maintenance and we were invited for tea. Mary was very proud of her 87 year old aunt and her hospitality. However Mary was directed before our arrival to iron the tablecloth so that there were no creases or wrinkles. It was dutifully done.

The building does not have an elevator and Aunt Marie lives on the third floor. She last emerged in 1997. Gini says this is not true and to cut it out!

Mary and her aunt:

So after our tea and cake (panatone), Aunt Marie said, of course, it was time for Champagne! Well, alright Aunt Marie!

As we polished off the bottle Mary said that she was feeling tired from the four hours of walking around the exhibits and would not be joining us in the evening. However Maurice was more than glad to be our host and guide. He has never missed a festival (well maybe the first 900 or so) and made sure every year when the vacation schedules were made that he had the days available for the fiera.

So at 8PM Maurice arrived at the hotel. We headed for the main piazza which was afire with bright lights. A mixed group of young and old were in traditional dress and dancing to the rhythm of percussive sticks.


As you might see, the piazza was pretty bright. Maurice leaned over and said Mary is going to see us on television tonight. A tv crew had been capturing the dance and yes, the next day Mary was excited about our appearance on the late night news. She immediately recognized Gini’s green coat and soon saw Chris, also. The Italians are very discreet and Gini was grateful that we were not pestered for autographs the next day in the streets.

The atmosphere defined the word ‘festive’:



Part of the offerings include native dishes served in large tents with group seating at long tables. Maurice brought us to one where he ordered a boiled dinner and Gini and Chris had some wonderful leek soup. The ambience was a blend of families, friends and a band playing traditional ‘country’ tunes:


Maurice treated us to a bottle of wine which we quickly enjoyed. The rest of the evening was a series of cups of hot spiced wine – excellent buffer against the alpine cold.

We worked our way back to the main piazza and the camera crews had left. However we were treated to a chorus of alpine horns. Here is a little video clip:



As we came in and out of the piazza we would always pass a certain bar/café that had musicians playing with accordions, bass, a local type of flute and an instrument that you constantly wound with a crank and fingered a keyboard around a body of wood. Maurice claimed they were the best musicians at the festival and would probably come out to one of the stages later. After two hours of wandering we finally decided to go in and join them. We were fortunate and inched our way through the solid mass of people and found ourselves in a room with the band. The density was drastically lower and we were able to get chairs about two feet from them. For the next hour we were treated to a repertoire of mountain music.

Eventually we left and made it to the main stage where some of the sons of these older musicians were playing. Think Pogues. They had the crowd jumping and dancing traditional dances to ‘punk’ versions of the mountain songs. The energy level was high and along with the aforementioned instruments they added a violin and bagpipes. The crowd was mixed; young and old alike – and they all knew the different dances:

Maurice and Gini were of course indulging in spiced wine. The session ended with two of the musicians from the café/bar joining the younger crew on stage.

At about one in the morning we thanked Maurice for his wonderful company and went back to the hotel.

Mary met us the next morning at 11 at the hotel. As previously mentioned she was excited about our appearance on national television. We told her we had already been out to the exhibits looking for one of the two foot tall, pointed hats we had seen to give Chip. We were unsuccessful in our quest.

People were coming from everywhere, trains, cars, buses, there was even a hot air balloon coming in for a landing. Our plans were a bit different.

Since we had seen most of the fiera on Friday we were heading to Pila, a major ski area here in Aosta. A brand new cable/gondola system had just been installed last year. We were all thrilled but Gini and Mary had the look:


As Mary said, the star of the day was Mont Blanc:


We had lunch along one of the porches there. You could see many of the major Alps including Cervino (Matterhorn) but Mt. Blanc was most prominent.

The ride back was even better. The initial descent was quite steep from the station where you boarded the gondola. I believe the phrase Gini screamed was “Ride ‘em cowboy!”:

Ah – how I have longed to hear that sound!

We finished with a wonderful dinner in another old section of town – Mary’s treat. Chris and Gini had now become addicted to Giovanni’s recommendation of a ‘digestif’ – Averna – mmmm.

Mary said her goodbyes Saturday night since we were off to Milano in the morning and Mary had to accompany Aunt Marie to church. Mary’s first winter visit to her lifelong summer vacation place had been everything she had hoped. C’est formidable!

The trip to Milano on Sunday was fairly uneventful. We managed to change trains correctly, find the Malpensa shuttle to the airport in Milano from the central train station and have the hotel pick us up with their shuttle. The Hilton Garden Hotel in Milano is wonderful. Their restaurant was first class. Gini enjoyed a delicious octopus carpaccio (wait until we tell Giovanni), Chris had risotto parmigiano and they both feasted on what was listed in the English portion of the menu as ‘Pork Chomp’. An excellent bottle of Barbera D’Asti complemented the experience. We finished with a stylized version of zabaglione and coffee. Somehow we wound up in the bar to drink some Averna. What a wonderful night (no pictures please).

Chris made it through three quarters of the Super Bowl which started at 12:30 AM Monday morning.

Remember how wonderful our flight over to Ireland was when we were upgraded? Well -our 7AM shuttle ride to the airport was met with the first appreciable snow in Milano since 1986! Everybody was freaked trying to drive in it. About an hour after we got there, they closed the airport for three hours. Currently we are finally wending our way to Atlanta with hopes of somehow making a connection to Miami. Paul and Greg are waiting with martinis and dinner even though, for us, it will be thirty four o’clock. Oh well.