Bill Pollock's Bormio: On The Scenic Route

The bus will come at any moment. I know this.

The bus will come at any moment and I think I can flag it down anywhere and maybe this isn't the moment I want to test that theory.

I am tired and in all my gear and its not an impossible distance to travel back to the hotel but an unpleasant one in boots and attire.

The shuttle arrives and I have to steel myself that this is the wrong shuttle and maybe my shuttle doesn't appear here and this wait was in vain when suddenly my bus does appear right behind the other one.

This is generally splendid.

There are few people on my bus. An American hops on and inquires about the Miramonte. She wants another bus.

Off we go.

The folks pull cords when its time to stop but by god where the hell are we?

We keep to back roads. The municipal policeman stops cross traffic so we can clear the narrow winds.

I have seen shuttles like this in other towns, compact busses that run through tiny ancient centers.

Where the hell do I get off I wonder.

We pass by the Joker Bar and that seems familiar but only because its the same name as the closed place downhill from Vico and thats in another part of Italy alltogether.

Or was that really my hotel stop?

We start heading through the upper reaches of town and its exhilarating except for the fact that I am still in all my kit and my skiis are kind of dripping on me and its kind of humid in all this crap and I'd kind of like to get home kind of soon.

The bus lurches to a stop out by the aquatic center on the far end of town.

Craparoni. I expect a wait as we get onto or off of some schedule.

Fortunately we head back towards town.

All free, mind you. A great public transit system for skiiers, really.

We end up at the bus shelter again and I find my memory of it minimized by the trip.

"Hotel Rezia?" I inquire to the driver, interrupting his cell phone conversation.

He gestures towards the hotel where I knew it would be, confirming it with kind of a smirk.

The alley towards the hotel seems awful familiar in a fifteen-minutes-ago kind of way.

Last update: 30 April 2008 01:03:00
Bill Pollock/2005