The political limbo of the region remains a sore-spot with the locals. The cook at my hostel, which was very nice and centrally located with surprisingly good food, told me the the traitorous Italians (he used the term Verräter which is pretty severe) don't deserve South Tirol because they never won a war, but that it didn't matter because with global warming, London, Paris, and Rome would be underwater but they would still be there, up in the mountains. An interesting point of view, but if there is one thing mountain-folk are good at, it's outlasting the flat-landers.  |
| Frescoes in the courtyard next to the cathedral |
The week before we left, both kids were home sick with a mild case of bronchitis. After several days of being around each other all day, everyday, and feeling shitty, they were experiencing a bit of cabin fever and became competitive about every little thing. It wasn't just toys, if one got picked up, the other demanded to be picked up, if one got more water poured into their cup, the other demanded more water be poured into theirs, if one got their nose wiped, the other demanded that their nose be wiped too, weather it needed wiping or not. Mommy and Daddy were also sick but I managed to hold out until I started to get a sniffle Thursday night. By the time we left Saturday morning, I was a miserable wreck who hadn't had a day off since the previous Saturday and wouldn't be getting another one for another week. We were all sick and contemplating not even going, but the reservations were made and Maeve had a preliminary interview to go to in Vienna. We almost had to stop at a hospital on the way down because I was feeling so ill. Nonetheless, I managed to hold on until we arrived in Brixen after a 12 hour drive that would ideally have been 10. After another miserable day I began a slow recovery that has only seemed to draw to an end this week.
Today, you can enjoy the best of both worlds in South Tirol. You get the best of both cuisines, both good beer and wine, as well as a mix of German efficiency and Italian friendliness. Brixen, with the surrounding farmland, has a population of about 20,000 but the town itself is very small and could be walked across in about five or ten minutes. A friend of the family in Berlin is from a neighboring village, he is a musician and entertainer as well as a local celebrity. He is constantly in the local newspaper and can't go anywhere without being recognized and approached on the street. If his wife, an American, wants to get anything done like shopping, she has to do it alone. Brixen's most famous landmark is it's cathedral, first built in the 11th century, then remodeled in the baroque era with an ornate interior. The adjoining courtyard still has frescoes from the Middle Ages.  |
| Square in front of the cathedral and site of the attack of the horrible pigeons |
When I wasn't watching the kids, I spent the first part of my week watching old episodes of Mad Men on my laptop and sleeping. Once the kids and I were feeling better, we went out for a bit of sightseeing while Maeve and Wolfram went skiing. We stopped at a bakery for some pretzels and rolls and sat on a bench in the main square outside the cathedral. It was very cold but the children were warmly clothed, the real threat, however, came from the pigeons. The little girl, Caoimhe, who is normally very brave, was absolutley terrified of the pigeons, who, drawn to the bread crumbs, were naturally very interested in us. Every time they came within a few feet of us, her screams would echo off of the stones of the buildings, drawing a bit of attention to us from all the old couples doing their shopping. So I spent our break walking back and forth chasing pigeons away while the children nervously nibbled their bread. I didn't have to watch the kids during the day our last full day in Brixen, and I finally felt up to taking a stroll about town and walking a little ways down the river. It was a far-cry from the invigorating hikes I had envisioned myself making before the trip but still allowed me to soak up some of the area's beauty.
Now back in Berlin we are just coming back up to around freezing after a bitter cold week and a half. The winter which seemed so long to evade us has finally come and it has been bitter indeed, with temperatures at night nearing -20 C. Getting the kids dressed reminds me of that scene in "A Christmas Story" where the protagonist compares it with preparing to go deep-water scuba diving and his little brother can't put his arms down. Thankfully, March is just around the corner and in a month it should be springtime, in the meantime, warm clothes, good boots, and a little drinky-poo should suffice.
