Category: NFN

It had not occurred to me until yesterday that the mix of trees from Bavaria (where these two images are from) all the way to Berlin is strikingly similar. Such are the benefits of driving rather than flying…

On a side note. I drove 90-100 mph on average. There was heavy rain occasionally, and even one crazy snowstorm. I was overtaken by other cars frequently. Being almost an American now, this struck me as astonishing.

Time to follow up with the second installment of my Dolomitian Strudel Di Mele Competition. Here comes the other winner: Rifugio Vallandro.

Rifugio Vallandro is perfect for those who need a break from serious hiking. But before you enjoy effortless walking along a lovely high-altitude path, you need to venture into lonely territory, following a street to “Prato Piazza.” The last bit of the street is one-way, regulated by traffic lights, which, however, not everyone attends to. As a result, it is possible to encounter other cars in a rather narrow and steep, icy and snow-covered lane, as well as poor souls on foot, who didn’t dare to drive up the street. The ones we met were so exhausted that their reactions to approaching cars were deplorably erratic. Anyway, it’s advisable to take on the habits of Mediterranean lorry drivers: honk every time you see the sign “tornante,” which indicates the next sharp turn of the street.

Once you’ve made it up to the parking lot, you’re done with the adventurous part of the tour. For now you are almost alone (pretty much everybody is deterred by the many signs that indicate that the streets call for special equipment…). And you walk through an absolutely stunning high-altitude meadow. That’s what “prato” means, meadow. And it’s true. There’s an atmosphere of loveliness, quiet, and ease. Even though the meadow was still covered with snow, one could almost sense how the flowers would come out only a few weeks from now.

Rifugio Vallandro is at the end of the meadow, and their strudel is a reflection of meadow-ness, translated into pastry. That is, it is light, fluffy, sweet, and sugary, and served by amazingly care-taking people who offer cushions and blankets, so that you can sit outside on the terrace, in spite of the winter temperatures. Five stars for the chef who was able to capture the spirit of the place to such perfection. *****

I’m looking for a compact camera that goes well with a suit (as in: small and unobtrusive), survives helicopter attacks, can take three days in a snow cave at high altitude and subzero temperatures, and so forth — all the usual stuff people who use cameras seem to go through these days. The only one I found so far is the Panasonic FT2/TS2. Is it good enough? Yesterday I returned one with a lens that was not perfectly centered. The second sample looks better — the lens is razor sharp all the way to the corners. These two from a forest near Munich from earlier today.

The effort one has to put into choosing these things is ridiculous. Why oh why does it take a camera to make a photograph?