Enjoying the High Life in Italy’s Alps

My two daughters watched in horror from the balcony of our hotel in the Italian Alps as I hurtled down a “black diamond” slope, an expert-level ski run far too steep for my ability. Skis, poles, legs flailed in all directions, sending up a cloud of snow that enveloped me in what looked like a Daffy Duck cartoon brawl.

A mogul (bump) slowed my acceleration, and while sliding on my side I managed to maneuver the skis’ edges at right angles to the hill and stop. Knowing my slick red snowsuit would act like a Slip ‘n’ Slide, propelling me down the hill again, I braced my skis against the snow and dared not move.

To Marisa, 19, and Talia, 13, I was a small red speck a quarter of a mile up a slope that would end at the back door of the Hotel Posta Zirm in the Tirolean mountain village of Corvara, where we were staying. The girls thought the worst when I came to a stop, and they felt helpless to rescue me.

My husband, Rolf, and I didn’t mean to take the expert slope on our last run of the day. But a thick fog at the top of the mountain shrouded the directional signs, and we made a right instead of a left. Suddenly it was steep beyond reason. I traversed the hill to keep my speed in check, but after a full day of skiing, my leg muscles had turned to jelly, and that’s when I began the long fall.

Now, sitting upright in the snow, I felt calmed by the silence. No more clickety-clack of out-of-control skis, no more scraping sounds over ice patches. The dramatic, jagged limestone cliffs of the Dolomites surrounded me, and for a moment I put aside thoughts of my predicament to enjoy the scenery--especially Mt. Marmolada just across the valley, jutting sharply into the sky at 10,968 feet, the highest peak in the Dolomites.

I gave Rolf the thumbs-up when he called to me from farther down the hill. Like many Europeans, he learned to ski as soon as he could walk and adeptly handles any steep slope.

“Just slide down on your back,” he yelled.

Perfect solution. I took off my skis and set them and the poles across my stomach, then lifted my feet and let gravity carry me home. Snow filled my sleeves and jacket, and chunks of ice pelted my face. But it hardly mattered. I was like a kid on a sled, and it became my favorite “run” of the whole week.

The Dolomite Alps in northeast Italy are a popular ski destination for Europeans--about 60% are Italian visitors, the rest Austrians, Germans, Dutch and British. Americans number only 1%, according to the Italian Government Tourist Board. Indeed, a woman in the sauna at the hotel asked why we came all this way just to ski. Why not ski closer to home, say, in Colorado?

Two reasons: It was a family reunion with in-laws meeting us there from Germany. And it’s cheaper to ski in Italy than it is in the big, expensive resorts of Vail or Aspen, even with air fare added in. Last March, our lift tickets were $18 per day; private one-hour ski lessons were only $25. And a massage to ease sore muscles after a day of schussing: $32 for one hour.

Most costs, including hotel packages, are about half of those in the U.S., especially this year with the strong dollar. Air fares to Milan this winter (checked for a mid-March week) are $454 round trip; they’re $370 to Denver. Not much of a spread.

And think about it: You are in the Alps, where Olympic skiing stars are born, where even the food at snack stands at the top of the lifts is some of the best, where church bells ring in deep valleys and echo against craggy 10,000-foot mountain peaks.

We arrived the second week in March, past prime season. Still, there was plenty of snow, and it was in good condition. Like most Alpine ski resorts, Corvara is not near an international airport. Venice, a two-hour drive, is the closest major city, but we flew into Milan (four hours from the resort) so we could supplement the vacation with visits to Venice, Verona and Milan on the drive back.

The Hotel Posta Zirm, where we stayed, was chosen by my in-laws, who book the same third-floor suite every year. The staff speaks some English, the location is ideal (with balconies that overlook the slopes), and a chairlift is just steps from the back door. The room price comes with daily breakfast and an epicurean dinner.

Breakfast at Posta Zirm is buffet style, with seeded rolls, a variety of cold meats and cheeses, yogurt with muesli, boiled eggs and fruit. Dinner is a dress-up affair that starts at 7 p.m. and ends months later--or so it seemed. The five courses arrived slowly--Europeans don’t rush through dinner--and each course was a work of art set on plates decorated with flower petals and drizzled with multicolored sauces.

I worried about the area’s wildlife population. Anything that hops, trots, flies or scampers through the forest is on your plate by evening. We had venison, quail, rabbit, mountain goat and snails. As beautifully prepared and delicious as the meals were, my daughters were disappointed that a trip to Italy didn’t mean pizza and spaghetti each night. The meals were more Austrian- and northern-Italian-influenced than they expected.

The hotel is one of the nicest in town, with large, bright rooms, pretty views and big bathrooms with hair dryers and plenty of large towels. The fireplace in the lobby was always crackling, and comfy chairs next to it were hard to resist. But Rolf and I peeked into several less expensive hotels in town, all of which looked cozy and inviting, each with a restaurant serving local cuisine.

We skied every day but one. Talia had tried skiing a only couple of times in California, so we found an English-speaking teacher for daily private lessons, which greatly enhanced her confidence and enjoyment on the slopes. Marisa wanted to go snowboarding, which isn’t nearly as popular in Europe as it is in the States, though it is slowly catching on with the younger set. Over our weeklong stay, she probably saw only 15 other snowboarders.

The terrain is hillier than on U.S. slopes, which meant there were places with uphill spots where she had to remove her snowboard and walk up for a few minutes to get to the next downhill trail. (Skiers with poles can point their skis into a V and “skate” uphill so that an ascent doesn’t interrupt a good run.)

Also, there are far more platter lifts--nearly extinct on American slopes--where an attendant hands you a rope with a round plate attached to it. You put it between your legs, lean back on the plate and let it pull you up the hill. It’s easy for skiers, but snowboarders must stand on one foot, so it’s a real balancing act. On the other hand, the chairlifts are modern and fast.

In the Dolomites, skiing is a means of transportation as much as a sport. Five villages in the Alta Badia region (Corvara, Colfosco, La Villa, San Cassiano and Pedraces) are connected by a series of lifts and runs. Skiers can park the car in one town and in one afternoon pass through multiple villages covering several miles.

Alta Badia has 57 lifts that link 75 miles of ski runs, and a transport capacity of 65,000 people per hour. Thankfully, hotel occupancy in March was only 50%, so it wasn’t crowded.

Ski runs are usually expansive, but occasionally they become narrow and cross roadways or sidle up so closely to them that, with one uncontrolled turn, you could end up as a hood ornament on somebody’s car--a safety issue that would put a smile on any U.S. personal-injury lawyer’s face. But Europeans don’t put up fences on ski slopes, and even the youngest skiers navigate the narrow trails with ease.

From 1915 to 1917 Alta Badia was at World War I’s front lines, and at some hilly points you can ski past bunker and shelter ruins with historical markers. Though the disputed land between Austria and Italy was certainly worth fighting for, Italians gained the land (courtesy of an alliance with the French and the English), but not necessarily the culture. German is spoken as frequently as Italian, the half-timbered architecture with flower boxes looks Austrian, and the cuisine is a delicious melting pot of both cultures.

We gave ourselves a day to rest sore muscles in the middle of the week and drove one hour east to Cortina d’Ampezzo, the larger, hipper resort town. The 1956 Winter Olympics were held here, which put it on the map for tourists. Whereas Corvara has few shops--mostly offering ski gear and sweaters--Cortina is a paradise for shoppers, albeit ones with deep pockets. Shops selling woodcarvings, pottery, shoes and clothing are everywhere. But skiwear here is unique and stunning; the fabric glistens with gold, bronze, greens and yellows. At $500 and up for an outfit, the designs make you look svelte, athletic--no Pillsbury Doughboy look. I figured Big Bear’s Snow Valley couldn’t handle my wearing such chic styles, so, although I had fun trying them on, I only bought a pair of $15 goggles.

We walked the streets and found a pizza-by-the-slice stand. After so many fancy meals, the simple cheese pizza tasted exquisite.

On the slopes we tried a new mountaintop restaurant every day. We would call our relatives on a cell phone (it seemed everyone was talking on cell phones, on the lifts or even while skiing) and meet about 1 p.m. There were no bad restaurants. Most served hearty goulash or potato soups, sausages with rye bread, pastas with cream sauces, apple strudel and tiramisu, beer and wine; about $4 to $8. Then we would ski it all off before dinner.

As it does on any vacation, the end of the week came too fast. My father-in-law lamented the fact that every year they arrive on a Saturday and it isn’t until Thursday that his skiing skills are back to their best. To which Rolf replied, “Then why don’t you arrive on a Thursday?”

After a week of watching everyone ski so proficiently, I finally deduced why there are no bad skiers here. Skiing poorly is detrimental to one’s self-esteem. In the U.S., beginner runs are dubbed “bunny slopes”; in the Alps they are called Idiotenhugel, or “idiot hills.”

My skiing improved throughout the week, but next time I plan to take daily lessons and perhaps get past my fear of steep slopes--just in case a fog ever envelops the signs to the idiot hills again.

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Guidebook: Skiing the Dolomites

Getting there: Lufthansa, KLM, Delta, British Airways, Air France, United and US Airways have connecting service (change of planes) to Munich. Restricted round-trip fares begin at $624.

Alitalia has nonstop service to Milan; Lufthansa, KLM, Delta, British Airways, United, Air France and Continental have connecting service. Restricted round-trip fares begin at $690.

Getting around: We rented a manual transmission station wagon from Hertz for $659 for

10 days at the Milan airport and carried chains ($10 extra), which we never needed. Buses service the ski region from Milan’s central rail station for $80 round trip (0342-905-090). Take a bus to Bolzano, from where you catch a local bus to small towns throughout the Dolomites; about $35 round trip.

Where to stay: Corvara’s high season, Feb. 2 to March 8, is short, so it’s easy to get a less expensive room in low season and still have plenty of snow. All hotels offer room with “half pension”--breakfast and dinner.

The Hotel Posta Zirm, 0471-836-175, charges $90 per person, per night in low season and $105 in high season. This includes an enormous buffet breakfast and five-course gourmet dinners.

We also liked the cozy rooms at Pensione La Fontana, 0471-836-

000, www.lafontana.com, just a block away. For a room with daily breakfast and a more casual dinner, the cost is $40 per person, per night in low season and $70 during high season.

The elegant Parkhotel Planac, 0471-836-210, www.planac.com, outside town, charges $160 per person, per night. In high season that price doubles. A ski lift is outside the door.

Where to eat: You need to ski to most mountaintop restaurants. Nonskiers will find cafes open daily in all the hotels. One restaurant reachable by everyone is the Speck Stube (no phone, no address), next to the Colfosco gondola. It exudes Old World charm with wood tables, cuckoo clocks, Tirolean oompah music and beer steins on the wall. We had good pasta dishes, Wienerschnitzel (breaded pork cutlet) and bowls of beef goulash. Entrees run $3 to $7.

Where to get tickets and equipment: The Corvara office of Dolomiti Superski, 0471-836-366, www.dolomitisuperski.com,

charges $117 for a six-day lift ticket, good on all 460 lifts and gondolas throughout the Alta Badia region. Ski equipment (boots, poles, and skis or snowboard) costs $80 per person for seven days. We rented from Perfect Ski & Snowboard, 90 Via Col Alt, Corvara; 0471-836-848.

For more information: Corvara Tourist Office; 0471-836-176, fax 0471-836-540. Italian Government Tourist Board, 12400 Wilshire Blvd., Suite 550, Los Angeles, CA 90025; (310) 820-1898, fax (310) 820-6357, www.italiantourism.com and www.enit.it.

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Karin Esterhammer is a copy editor at The Times.