It is always a pleasure to bring friends to one of my favorite rifugi – a mountain chalet, in this case – in the Valle d’Aosta region. Especially those who maybe on their own would have never arrived here, who are decidedly more ‘Mediterranean’ than ‘mountain’ folk. As anyone residing in Milan during the winter can attest, to maintain one’s sanity it helps to escape the often fog- or cloud-covered Po River plain and ascend into the Alps or Apennines – which often miraculously bask in sunlight above the clouds. A few hours of bright mountain sunshine a week can do wonders for one’s morale.
Rifugio Gabiet is situated at 7,800 feet above sea level at the head of Gressoney Valley and on the slopes of Monte Rosa, Europe’s second-highest peak which towers some 15,000 feet above the Po River plain. The upper valleys surrounding Monte Rosa are the home of the historic Walser people, who in the 13th century settled throughout the Alps in some of the highest habitable areas. Whereas in the rest of Valle d’Aosta – which extends from Piedmont to the French border at Mont Blanc – most town names are in the local Franco-Provençal language, in this small area we find distinctly German names, like ‘Staffal’, a locality just above the town of Gressoney-La Trinité. The Walser maintained their ancient Germanic dialect through the centuries, as they kept close trade contacts with Switzerland and Germany. While the Monterosa Ski area, connecting the Sesia, Gressoney and Ayas valleys, has brought prosperity to the region, it is still not as overdeveloped as other ski areas, and is definitely worth an exploration, and not just in winter: wildflowers carpet the high mountain pastures in summer and in the fall the larch trees turn a splendid orange-yellow.
I have had the privilege of coming here in every season. Gressoney is particularly special for me, for it marks the beginning of my Italian odyssey: I first skied here 11 years ago, together with a Japanese boarder friend who I had randomly met a short time before. That day, alas, we happened to miss the last bus back to Milan… Takashi was quite worried, but I was already a seasoned hitchhiker[1] at that point, and even if there were practically no cars left in the parking lot and it was getting dark, I immediately started asking around for a ride. All we needed really was a ride down the valley to Pont Saint Martin, where we could have taken a train… but luck was with me, and we happened to find a group of boisterous Italians who decided to go out of their way to take us home to Milan. These very Italians, including incredible snowboarder and kitesurfer Sandro and never-ending talker Corrado (who once ate four desserts in a row in the rifugio without even minimally pausing in his animated speech – we kept lining up the desserts in front of him and he just kept talking-eating, not even noticing that he was downing from different plates each time!) became our first Italian friends. They brought us skiing, rock-climbing, rafting and exploring areas we would have probably never found on our own. The first place they took us, a couple weeks later, was back to Gressoney, specifically to their special chalet Rifugio Gabiet. Since then, I have taken pride in bringing many of my friends (mostly Italian) here – many of whom had never been to the area and maybe not even to Valle d’Aosta. It is a great place to take in some potent alpine sunshine, ski excellent pistes and off-piste itineraries and enjoy fine local cuisine, including the Zuppa Valdostana, a delicious Fontina-bread-cabbage-onion soup.
I think I will wait another 11 years before recounting last weekend’s adventure – apart from the enclosed photos 
. I’ll just say that a good time was had by all. When I think back over the last 1/3 of my life, spanning from my first Rifugio Gabiet experience in 1999 to last weekend’s, in 2010… I am quite thankful, in awe really, for having had the opportunity to live here, for having been able to experience all of this and more. Grazie all’Italia e grazie soprattutto agli Italiani – mi avete dato tantissimo. Thanks to Italy, and thanks above all to the Italians – you have given me so much. A perfect country doesn’t exist on the planet, and Italy is indeed far from perfect, but I think it may still be one of the most sustainable places to live on Earth. Certainly one would be hard-pressed to find a country with such incredible natural, historical, cultural and eno-gastronomic diversity, over such a small distance. It could have happened anywhere perhaps, but Italy is where I became a man, Italy is where I realized that one of my most important life missions would be to act as a ‘cultural bridge’ – critical in a world where mankind’s historical memory is often close to zero, where one of the most beautiful things in life is maintaining and cherishing our cultural heritages.
[1] An excellent way to get to know an area – especially in the mountains, where if you carry a backpack or skis you might have a chance of being picked up. It ain’t the 1970s anymore… and this is certainly not a recommended travel method for women… but in mountainous areas in Italy/Europe you can still find safe rides even today. The people who pick you up are typically very open, so you will also learn a lot from them in the process and maybe make new friends.
