Home of the Pharaohs: Skiing in Cervinia, Italy

In April we reunited with our friends from the Telemark Ski Co. for a week of spring skiing in the shadow of the Matterhorn. As has been the case for each trip we have taken with this company the group of skiers we meet on these trips are an absolute blast to be with and we remain friends after the trip has ended.

The village of Cervinia (pronounced: Chervinia) is down in the valley with a winding road climbing up to our small hotel on the mountain side. The road was just long enough and steep enough to keep us from walking down into town each night for a beer. This was for the best as ski instruction had everyone up bright and early for breakfast in order to be on the slopes for the first lift of the day.

Meg did not take lessons on this trip as she was working on her online course work for half of each day and simply skiing for fun the other half. Seth did take lessons and his skiing showed it. He improved significantly from earlier this year and had a great time jumping off piste and playing in the crusty powder.

It was snowing like Christmas morning when we arrived in Cervinia, big, fat, fluffy flakes. Unfortunately it did not snow again while we were there. The lack of fresh snow coupled with balmy spring temperatures meant that the snow melted a bit each day and then froze over night covering the off piste with a layer of crust that would break through to softer snow underneath. The gang made the best of it and had a great time none the less.

We learned that there was to be a Telemark Ski Festival during the week we were in Cervinia. The festival consisted of a "race" in which strangers, many of whom are dressed in classic ski attire, were partnered up together and had to navigate a slalom course followed by clearing a low snow wall and finally ducking under a wooden arch and ringing a cow bell the size 0f your head. During the race competitors were required to duck off the course periodically for a drink of wine, champagne, Gienepy or any other alcoholic beverage of your choice. Needless to say everyone in our group asked, "Where do I sign up?"

Meg was partnered up with a local known as "The Flying Pineapple" because of his blonde dreadlocks and his speed on skis.

Fortunately for Meg he had a flask of "magic potion" in his pack that he offered at every stop. After the race everyone gathered at a slope side restaurant for endless wine, pasta, meats and cheeses and an awards ceremony. We were serenaded by a local band throughout the festivities.