Prologue
The last days of my South European trip were awful. After touring Spain and Portugal for a month with friends I was supposed to go to spend eight days in Italy with my boyfriend before continuing on to the US. Two days before my flight he told that he had fallen in love with someone else and no longer wanted to see me. I was in a shock - I cried, I got drunk, I stopped caring about anything. Right after flying to Milan I met him for an emotional conclusion talk and signed into a hotel. I was in the city all alone, heart broken and without a plan.
Day 1
I decide it is time to start getting my shit back together. I remember a friend telling me about hiking at the Dolomites. Thinking that being surrounded by beautiful nature would help me to heal, I google train connections, accommodation options and trekking trails.
At Milan Central Station I miss my intended train by five minutes. The next one gets late to its destination and I see the back of my connection train speeding away. I have a two hour wait before the day's last train to Belluno. I sit down on the platform - it is getting dark, I am covered in dried sweat and sleep deprivation is giving me a headache.
Somehow I get an idea to write a journal about my experience. I want to write about what will happen on this totally unplanned trip and how my feelings will alter during it. As I eat cold pizza leftovers, I feel hurt down to my spine. I still do not fully realize that I will never hear of him again. Small hope remains in my heart, wishing that he would change his mind and return to me. I keep checking my phone. Its newest stuff is still from him - call records and text messages - but now it stays silent.
I arrive at my hotel at midnight, after snoozing in the train and carrying my super heavy backpack through the empty town.
Day 2
I get up, organize my gear and go downstairs for breakfast. The friendly hotel staff has promised to store my excess luggage during the journey. With my hiking backpack I walk to a book store to buy some maps. Then I sit down at a terrace to examine them, and feel that I am finally setting forth...
After taking a local bus to Bolzano of South Dolomites I began hiking up to Rifugio 7* Alpini, up to where the altitude gain is close to 1000 meters. At half way I hit heavy rain, which slows me down. As I keep walking up the slippery, winding paths, a small thought sneaks into my head - "Who exactly said Italian refugios sell food? Maybe I should have brought some with me, just in case..." Eventually I reach the refugio. I hang up my soaked clothes, take a warm shower and order dinner. As I am comfortably eating my spaghetti bolognese, three wet hikers walk in. I immediately notice their climbing helmets, so when they later join me around the dining table I open up a discussion. They come from north and speak German.
When it gets dark I pitch my tent at the most beautiful spot. The surrounding majestic mountains are lighted by a full moon. I have a feeling that I have come to the right place.
Day 3
I wake up at four. Within seconds I remember that he has left me and a sharp physical pain hits my chest. This happens several times each night, making sleeping the most difficult time. Furthermore, the lack of rest brings my mood further down.
At breakfast I meet the German speakers again. They introduce themselves as Erika, Claudia and Gabo. They invite me to join them for a via ferrata day trip. Having never done via ferratas before I hesitate for some minutes before accepting. Already years ago I have concluded that most memorable things happen when saying yes to spontaneous proposals, so I try to live up to that.
Gabo, who turns out to be a complete gentleman, loans me his harness and via ferrata set. I am given a quick introduction to the proper use of the two flexible slings, and then we go! Our trip includes three via ferratas (Zacchi, Berti & Marmol) and takes us as high as 2562m on Monte Schiara. The going consists of normal trails alongside mountains, as well as more dangerous parts secured with bolted bars and lines. It is like a combination of hiking and climbing, which I enjoy very much!
During the day I see breathtaking scenery, cross sections that make me not look down and get to know my new friends. At post-hike beers they note that I completed my first via ferrata with good precision and poise. That makes me laugh - "Me and calm in a same sentence, never heard before! If they just knew that in reality I am afraid of even indoor lead climbing..."
Since my preliminary plan to follow the Alte Via Uno route fails due to lack of accessibility, I gladly join the gang for the rest of the weekend. We hurry down to the parking lot and drive a few hours to Erika's home near Brunnick at North Dolomites. In her big, alpine style house she prepares me a cosy bed in my own guest room. I keep wondering the friendliness and hospitality these people are showing to me, a stranger with poor German skills.
Day 4
In the morning I can barely stand up. The previous days hikes have smashed my leg muscles. Since Claudia promises that we will go just for a slow half-day walk, I decide to tag along.
The target mountain is a short drive away. Already when we approach it, of course by foot instead of ski lifts, my legs ache at every step. I decide to make this hike a symbolic battle: If I have the needed endurance and willpower to reach the top, I am also mentally strong enough to survive any challenges. At that point I do not know that the elevation gain will be some 1700m.
The power ladies keep on going at steady speed, while I drag behind with Gabo, who carries my stuff and provides me with water and snack bars. Most of the hike is uphill on loose stones, with a few occasional scramble climbs. I keep pushing myself, hoping for nothing but rest. When we reach the end of the lower loop, I am given an option to wait there while the others go around another loop at the mountain peaks. No way I stay!
After what feels like an eternity, we reach a top (Heiligkreuzkofel at 2907m). There's a high cross with ribbons there, under which we have some tea and bread. I feel so satisfied with myself until Claudia announces that we should continue on for the higher top - "What, another top!? Is it that one up there? I cannot make it!!" However, I keep on walking. I feel frustrated and self-pitying, and a devastating thought enters my mind - "No matter what mountains I climb, he will never love me again."
The final top (Zehnerspitze at 3026m) is a ten meter high boulder, which seems like a safe climb even without securing. I want to go there to complete both the physical hike and the mental battle. But as I am about to start climbing, it begins to rain and a large group of people start their descent down. By the time I could climb, the boulder is too wet for my slippery shoes. I feel exhausted, cold, disappointed and sad, so I begin to cry. Gabo and Claudia hug me tight, while Erika pours me a schnap.
Despite my request to wait for the boulder to dry, we start walking down. I contemplate with my topping failure. After all, I had given the hike my very best and it was external conditions that prevented me from succeeding. I believe that can be also applied to life in general: As long as you can say you could not have done any more, you should be proud of yourself, no matter what the final outcome is.
By the time we reach the car it is pouring raining and we are soaked. At Erika's house we make a fire and sit in the kitchen all night eating pasta and drinking beer. The evening is filled with interesting conversations and lots of laughter. I am positively surprised at my ability to understand and speak German.
Day 5
For the first time I sleep well, more precisely around the clock. The others have woken up early for a glacier tour, while I use the lack of proper mountain boots as a valid excuse to have a rest day.
I am a bit concerned about being alone and doing nothing, but Erika's house is a delightful place to peacefully sit on the terrace relaxing. I do some conscious thinking. Even though I still miss him, I realize that even if he changed his mind I could not take him back. A relationship with no trust and respect would be dreadful. From now on, I can no longer believe that anyone would really love me. Instead of looking for a serious partner, I will get to know men only to learn about different life views and personalities, and to have fun.
The others return in time for dinner. I have a chat with Claudia while washing dishes. When I complain about having lost not only a boyfriend but also the dream of a family, she questions me even having wanted that. She asks whether I would be happy just taking care of a household and raising children. That is actually what I have thought, too. Maybe getting a family has always been an unquestioned default dream for me, and lately I have began to want it so badly just because it is unreachable. Maybe in reality traveling around, falling in love with different men and experiencing a great variety of things is more suitable for me.
After eating it is time to say goodbye to Claudia and Gabo, who return to their homes.
Day 6
At breakfast table me and Erika study maps and talk about life. She tells that her husband, with whom she had been together for some twenty years, died five months ago. Yet still she laughs brightly, buzzes around with errands and shows true empathy towards others. She explains that despite being sad, she is not alone for she has friends and her sorrow shrinks every time she is up at the mountains. I feel so moved and inspired by her attitude that I cannot find any German words for response. I have found such a good benchmark person.
Erika drives me to a campground in Cortina and gives me a bag of fruits for lunch. I walk around the camping fields and feel slightly disappointed. The place is full of caravans and huge tents, all next to each other. I decide to forget about quiet nature and pitch my tent next to a river.
I go for a relaxed hike, whose main destination is a refugio. Its gourmet restaurant is accessible by car, and I look at wealthy pensioners strolling in, wearing hiking boots with Burberry jackets and Luis Vuitton handbags. In the afternoon I walk around downtown, looking at shops and cafés. Italians truly are good looking and dress so well!
Day 7
I wake up to the sound of rain on my tent. Secretly happy for no longer having to hike, I reach for my book and make myself comfortable.
Later in the afternoon I take a bus back to Belluno, where I head to my hotel. After hanging my tent to dry, I go out to find a cafe with wifi. While posting photos on Facebook, I realize what a success my Dolomites journey has been! I have done my first via ferrata, met compassionate people and seen tons of incredibly beautiful mountains.
I decide to enjoy some Italian cuisine at last. While sipping my aperative drink, I finally pay some thought to my longer term future. After having quit my job in June, I have felt mostly stressed and buzzled about the open future. Now for the first time I get excited. After returning from the US I can start searching for motivating jobs, and now that I am no longer tied to a hope of a relationship I can consider the whole world as my job market - "Dear adventures, bring it on! I am ready to go where ever you take me!"
Who ever claims Italians are rude, should reconsider. To top up all the politeness Italians have shown me at numerous occasions, I get an invitation from a group of three pensioners to join them for dessert wines. Despite missing a sound common language we discuss about politics, cultures and travels.
Day 8 & Day 9
On my last day in Italy I return to Milan. The arrival train journey goes smoothly and I check into my hostel in the afternoon. I go out in search of pizza and gelato, before having an early night to sleep.
The next morning I wake up early to take a bus to the airport. I haven't slept well due to the excitement about traveling to the US. I look forward to seeing my family and friends, training for a bike tour, camping, shopping... When I enter the airplane the flight attendant smilingly comments that I look extra cheerful. I guess that can be interpreted as a sign that I will be alright.
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