Hotel Imperatore

And so, here we are, at the end of a day's driving. The scenery is not what I'd imagined, We're 1000 m above sea-level, there are cows and cowbells, alpine pastures. And here's our hotel; the Imperatore, at the top of the Passo Viamaggio. There are a few powerful motorcycles outside, and we park our touristique hire-car among them. Inside the old hotel, all is wooden. There's a small counter, the inevitable postcard stand, hints of a restaurant behind, and a large display of cheese and hams at the far end of the room. No-one speaks English, but we launch in, "Familie Williams" we announce. "Ah si! Due camera - uno per due, e uno per tre." I may not have spelled the Italian correctly, or captured the grammar, but the gist is there. We hand over our passports for registration, and, as the girls are signed in, there's a smile and a question, "Tre gemella?". "Three twins?" I think. But Elen, Bethan and Rhiannon are ready for this, and smile. "Si," they say and, to us, "We've got used to this. There's no Italian word for 'triplets' so they say 'three twins'". We're led up two floors to our rooms - delightfully old-fashioned, with big beds and massy furniture. It's wonderful. A little later we come down and order beers, sitting outside to enjoy the late evening sunshine on the meadows. This is so like earlier holidays, when we've all been together in places like Braunwald or Roquebrun or the Algonquin. These occasions fill me with nostalgia, and I don't mind admitting to it. They're rosy and poignant; very romantic. It's a heady mix and, tasted all the more infrequently now, intoxicating. Eventually, as the light fades, we go inside to eat. A light meal, we think, but, oh dear, it doesn't turn out that way. The hotel specialises in MOUNTAIN FOOD. There's pasta, gnocchi and mounds of meat from the wood fire outside. The girls enjoy the pasta and salads and cheese. Faith and I tuck into smoky-tasting roasted meats, too. There's local wine, too, and grappa to finish. Around midnight, we amble contendedly to our beds but, as we're about to settle in, I open our window and look outside into the mountain darkness. There, in the black, tiny lights are dancing. We call the girls in to see, and our first day ends with fireflies.