and full of white-caps. The last few days have been molto ventoso (very windy), reminding me of the spring winds in New England marking the change in seasons. In Maine, the incoming warm air meets the still-cool seas, causing great tempests. Here, the water is still warm enough to go for a swim, and the sun strong enough to get a sunburn. Brightly colored flowers have started to emerge among the lichen-covered rocks – purple wild crocus, tiny red pin cushion plants, and tall yellow Acetosella. The emergence of the sun today was unexpected, as the morning began with spotty showers, but ended with a beautiful rainbow right outside our window after I returned from my morning walk with Manny.This weekend marked the end of Carnevale here. Though Lent technically already began last Wednesday, there was still quite a bit of revelry through the weekend including a sfilata (a parade) through the streets of Palau, in which Chad and I both participated – Chad as a soldier from Toy Story (tough costume to dig up) and me as Sebastian, the lobster, from the Little Mermaid, as the American float had a Disney theme. The parade covered no more than 8 blocks, but took over four hours to cover. Along the way, each float served wine and beer and the American float served hot dogs and hamburgers as well, making it the most popular as the sun began to set and the hunger of the masses grew. There was plenty of loud music, loads of confetti, which we are still finding in our house, and, of course, plenty of imbibing as well.
The final event of Carnevale was the Pentolaccia, which took place on Sunday under a grand tent at the port in Palau. I am still not sure of the significance of Pentolaccia, but it involves adults dressed in marvelous costumes complete with silver and gold masks, colorful capes, and elaborate headdresses who all surround a piñata. Children from town try to break the piñata with a giant stick, which was more difficult than I would have imagined. Meanwhile, they played some sort of dirge "a la Metallica" in the background, which added to the odd pagan feel of the whole affair. The evening was capped off with fuochi artificiali (fireworks) over the port, which we missed as we had retreated home in the growing winds and coming rain to a fire in our fireplace.
Under this same tent, a few weeks ago, we enjoyed a wonderful Sardegnan dinner, another of the Carnevale events. Though I had just come down with a cold and it was a grey, chilly evening, we summoned the energy to head to town for what was advertised as a salsiccia alla griglia (grilled sausage) dinner. We were among the first people there and were seated by the hostess at one of the many long tables set up for the evening around a small stage that would be for dancing later. Before long, we were joined by a very nice woman who happened to speak a bit of English. By the end of the evening, she had introduced us to all of her friends, and we had been invited to go diving over the summer by a man who works in a local dive shop, to go salsa dancing in Porto Cervo by another man from the Dominican Republic, but who lives in Palau, and to see traditional Sardegnan dancing in a small coastal village by a man who was about 5 feet tall and who winked at me from the other end of the table as we said our goodbyes. It was quite an experience filled with wonderful food and new friends and capped off by the traditional and delicious Carnevale fritelle (fried dough).
We missed Martedi Grasso in Palau, or Fat Tuesday as New Orleanians
know it, because we were en route back from a ski trip to Innsbruck, Austria. To get there, we took the ferry from Sardegna to Livorno, on the mainland, and then drove from there up through Tyrol and into Austria. The mountains were beautiful and it was a treat to see snow, as our only glimpses of it lately have been atop distant Corsica from our window on very clear days. After navigating signs in German, which was a challenge, we arrived in Innsbruck late in the afternoon and spent the evening wandering through the charming pedestrian district of town past the famous Goldenes Dachl, near which we found a cozy shop full of homemade schnapps of all sorts with a proprietor who allowed us to sample a few varieties. For dinner that night, we headed to what was to become our favorite happy-hour spot, Thereisenbrau, for fondue, Bavarian pretzels and home-brewed beer.The next day was gorgeous with bright sun shining on the towering Alps above surrounded by blue skies. We walked into downtown Innsbruck for a visit to the Hofburg Palace, once home to
Emperor Maximilian I, which was full of period furniture and halls full of larger-than-life portraits of members of the royal family, many of whom possessed the unfortunate Hapsburgian nose. More impressive were the Hofkirche, which contained a dozen or so very detailed 
bronze statues also of royalty, all surrounding the tomb of Maximilian, and the Dom zu St. Jakob, with its guilded altar, ornate pulpit, and gleaming silver organ beneath the colorfully painted dome. Somewhere amidst our roamings, we took a break for lunch at a small Thai restaurant, which may seem odd in the land of beer and schnitzel, but it was a rare opportunity coming from Sardegna, the land of only pizza and pasta. We had dinner that night back at our hotel, the Neue Post, which we learned to pronounce “noya post,” with a friend from La Maddalena, her sister and crew.Finally, the next day, we headed off to the slopes. We picked up the ski bus in front of
our hotel and meandered up to the mountain through a few small villages and then a long windy road that led up and up until we could finally see the trails of Axamer-Lizum, our destination. I had a few butterflies in my stomach in anticipation of attempting to get down those trails - preferably on two skis. But, all went well on the first day and the zippy skiers graciously waiting and cheered on the pokier ones in the bunch. One of the highlights of the day was sitting in the sun at the Hoadlhaus atop the mountain during our lunch break. The views from the top were amazing and the sun felt magnificent. We sampled hearty skiers’ fare from streudels to knodels to various wursts and spaetzels, and good Austrian beer. The Radler, a mix of Sprite and beer, became a refreshing favorite. A handful of runs in the afternoon brought us to the end of the day when we had to catch the last bus back to the hotel. We quickly decided that, while the bus may take a bit longer than driving one’s self up the mountain, it was well worth it for the relaxing ride home, which usually included a steaming cup of gluwein (hot wine spiced with cloves and orange) and a nap. We were also happy to have dinner at our hotel included in our ski package so that we could shortly thereafter drag our tired bodies upstairs for a long sleep.Days two and three brought more sunshine and increased confidence and speed on the slopes with only a few personal yard sales for everyone’s entertainment. Somehow, following one of these, one of my skis ended up completely vertical, pointing up out of the snow far above where I ended up. I also managed to have a small collision with a snowboarder after which, thinking it was probably my fault, I yelled a long confusing series of, “Sorry, scusa, mi dispiace,” and a garbled attempt at “Entschuldigung,” German for "excuse me". Apparently none of these worked, as his friend commenced yelling at me in French. I figured I had done better than most on the mountain, as it seemed to be the usual custom to knock someone down and continue on with your skiing or, as we discovered in the lines for the ski lift, to use your elbow and ski poles to wedge your way into position, often tipping over small children or those less than completely comfortable wearing skis on their feet.
Our last day in Innsbruck, we enjoyed one last lovely breakfast at the Neue Post, after which we felt compelled to buy some Muesli to bring home with us, and then
we went for a final walk through downtown before starting the long drive back. Given a tip from the caretaker at our condiminium, Pietro, we decided to drive along Lago di Garda, which is a beautiful narrow lake surrounded by steep cliffs and small summer resort towns. When we stopped in the town of Nagos to get gas, we were invited to the Martedi Grasso celebrations in the piazza for a free lunch. Several men stirred giant pots of pasta beneath streamers criss-crossing the piazza where people were gathered for the festivities, and we joined them to await a delicious bowl of Penne alla Bolognese. Then, we headed on towards 
Verona, where we planned to make a short visit. In Verona, we saw the famous colosseum (the second biggest in the world) where they have operas in the summer, for which we hope to return, and also the Casa di Julietta with its wall full of lovers notes stuck up with bubble gum. Then, we were off for the long stretch back to Livorno to catch the ferry home. Once there, we happily checked into our tiny little cabin and hardly noticed how much less comfortable our bunk was than the nice fluffy bed at the Neue Post. An announcement over the ship radio very early in the morning followed by many follow-up announcements and knocks on all the doors, got us up and out of bed for our arrival back home. Sardegna, as always, was beautiful to come home to, with pink morning clouds streaked across the rugged rocky hills.That brings us up to the present. All else is well here: Chad continues to enjoy his work but not to work too much. I am nearing the end of teaching my second semester of Biology and will then take a break from teaching during the next semester as we anticipate the arrival of many guests and also a trip to Turkey in May. And, Manny is living la dolce vita del cane - chasing birds on the beach and lazing in the sunshine in the yard.
Baci,
S, C & M
