Googling and goggle-eyed

I should be busily preparing patient files or writing an exam for next week, or researching material for my new writing gig. Instead, I'm on the 'net, researching locales which to which I've traveled.

The motivation is correct: many of the places I stayed in Europe are unique, charming and appealing. Since I'm writing for a hotelier (guess which?), I need to look at how others are describing their establishments.

One problem: websites in Europe are written for Europeans. While I've actually tracked down a number of the hotels in which I had memorable stays, I can't read the descriptions. I'm barely fluent in English. French, German, Italian -- I need a translator.

Then, the tangential searches and side-googles began. Right! Found the Stafler Hotel in Mauls (Italy) and the Zum Alten Brauhaus in Bitburg (Germany).

Then my mind flitted to the Sud Tyrol within the Dolomites ("my favorite Alps!") and a magical week I spent in Castelrotto (Kastelruth if you're German). This charming Tyrolean town is nestles at the base of the Seis am Schlern. I remember seeing the Dolomites for the first time and thinking 'God speaks.' This, from an agnostic.

I wonder what it would be like to grow up with this monolith towering above you. Immutable, spectacular, challenging, dangerous and wonderful -- living life with such a view must have some impact on residents. Or is it similar to living near the ocean or even in the Finger Lakes: we begin to take these natural wonders for granted.

Memories flood back as I look at the internet images of the area. I conquered my fear of going down hill on x-c skis on the Schlern. J and I were skiing on top of the massif, and found a downhill ski resort. "It's now or never!" I said, and off we went. We repeated the exercise several times to make sure I was over throwing myself down a mountain on skinny skis. It was fun!

One of the nights were were there we went to dinner at one of the local restaurants. Neither of us had a clue as to what we were ordering, and the waitress spoke no American. I ordered spaetzle, J ordered speck. I was entirely veg at the time.

When the waitress appeared with a large cutting board of beautifully rolled smoked bacon, I muttered soto voce 'mmmmm! Just what I always wanted.' I'd have eaten it; when in Rome...

However, we quickly clarified that I had ordered what turned out to be potato dumplings, and the bacon was all J's.