We feel deeply attached
to a place that has entrusted us with its very personal secrets and stories. They arise from its nature, live on in our minds and finally find their true purpose through pen and paper.
The mountain knows many stories that are just waiting to be told. Pick up your pen or read what the mountain has whispered to people here: our mountain stories.
Quite, Easily, Very, Hard
Ashes were not heavy. They can be carried, he thought; he should be able to handle that.
Her eyes. Big, blue, no tears. A look.
Old wrinkled hands, clasped together tightly, unusually tight.
“Go up there with me!” she had said.
He knew it then. She didn’t need to let go.
Her eyes, moments later. Big, blue, no look.
Up there. Many years they had gone up there. Up there.
Fleet-footed, at first. Together, always together. Even today.
Can’t breathe, can’t breathe. He has to stand still, prop...
Leap of Thought
A warm aroma of lemons surrounded her. Behind the panorama window, a thoroughly rested sun shone radiantly across rich green clearings and silvery mountain peaks: the perfect backdrop for this day! Paula stretched herself indulgently on her sauna lounge chair and snuggled herself deeper into her soft bathrobe. An entire day only for herself, to relax, doze, dream. No hiking, no mountain climbing, no conversations, a day just for her: glorious! She was wonderfully empty inside as...
The little Ballerina
Alf slid the lace curtain aside and peered out at the rain-soaked street. Cathy Brown from number 12 came hurrying along, huddled under her umbrella. She hesitated as she drew level with Alf’s window and he raised his hand in greeting. But Cathy, intent on negotiating the large puddle that always formed outside Alf’s door in heavy rain, was oblivious to his presence. Alf tutted and shook his head. How long had the council been promising to get that pavement repaired? Cathy skirted the...
[Translate to Englisch:] Lightness
[Translate to Englisch:] Laura Mautone
For Elsa and Tony
Ring the bells that still can ring.
Forget your perfect offering.
There is a crack in everything.
That's how the light gets in.
The English trains proceed along the tracks in an orderly fashion. Making no noise at all, they drift through the countryside like sighs. Your gaze is drawn towards the sea. Near the coast it’s the colour of mud, whereas the countryside inland fills the eyes with an intense green and little yellow dots, meadows covered in...
The Dream Seller
He was sitting at the corner of the street, on a rush-seat chair propped up against the wall of a house. It was very early, but already little splashes of sunlight dotted the grey of the pavement, and were radiating cautiously outwards. Soon they would reach his legs and he would feel their warmth. It was impossible to tell how old he was, that man who came to sit at that corner without fail every morning. Though robust, his frame betrayed a certain agility. Set just below the arches...
For the past five minutes his face hung so closely to his steamy soup that for the gapers in the supermarket restaurant it looked like he wanted to inhale the soup rather than eat it. A glassy, shimmering drop had by now gathered on the tip of his nose and was beginning to droop down towards the chicken broth below.
He didn’t notice it. His wife didn’t either.
She had pushed him in his basic wheelchair to one of the square tables, set the left and right brake levers and, because she...
The Swimming Pool
Margret dips her toe into the water. She jerks it out, as though a fish had bitten it. Damn cold.
What is wrong with you, she says to herself. Simply get in and move, then it will be alright.
She feels her way backwards down the three metal steps that lead into the pool. Letting go of the ladder, she falls and splashes into the water. Elegant is something else entirely, she sighs, but it’s not like someone is looking.
She lies on her back and lets herself float, looking up at the...
Silvia is seated on the settle, watching the rain outside the window. She is lost in thought, distant. Since her return she has been trying in every way possible to tell her mother the story she doesn’t want to hear. Rosa is pottering about the fireplace, stoking the fire, burning uncomfortable memories.
“It was a ridiculous idea to come back to Italy, and it’s proved to be quite a drag. Just as dreary as this rain,” says Silvia all of a sudden.
Rosa turns her back to her, but can...
Fluffy white clouds
Upon waking on my first day at vigilius mountain resort, I was transfixed by the stunning vista in front of me through the open curtained windows. Wonderful mountains, soaring spruce trees, blue sky with fluffy white clouds…and then it hit me. Was this déjà-vue? A long time ago when I was a very young child growing up in a major European city surrounded by buildings and busy streets, I once had a revelation about the true meaning of the world around me. The world I could not see at...
At the Top of the Ocean
There is a place in the deep blue ocean where it is so deep that its true depth cannot even be measured. The reason for this is because there must be a point on this planet that is as deep as the deepest sadness known to our world. The deepest sadness of the world also cannot be measured, cannot be named. Whoever is held captive by this immeasurable sadness finds himself or herself at the same time on the bottom of the deep blue sea. From above, this place radiates in sparkling blue...
The St. Bernhard-Dachshund
Bella, the female St. Bernhard who belonged to the vigilius owners, often played with the children of guests currently visiting the mountain resort, a pastime which included generous amounts of jumping around along with stretching her legs out long while letting herself be scratched. Whenever she was not playing, she enjoyed a certain predilection for extended walks, with others or even alone.
One day, as Bella's yearn for hiking was somewhat more hormone-inspired than usual, the...
why vigilius exists
Ever since my childhood I have known the “Vigiljoch”. I can remember well the mountain hotel Vigiljoch that was then in operation and I found it to be something very special. I was never in the hotel, but I know that I always had a great respect for the place. What went on in there anyway? As a child it was all so very mysterious. I was convinced that only people from far, far away could live here.
As a teenager, I looked at the hotel with different eyes. In my rebellious years it...
Sealele, duck di
The most precious mineral water has been bubbling out of the rich Monte San Vigilio/Vigiljoch springs since time immemorial and taken down to the valley by pipes, given the label “Meraner Mineralwasser” and then taken back up to Monte San Vigilio/Vigiljoch again by cable car. In those days a bottle cost 200 lire, a quart of red wine also cost 200 lire and as a result the locals and guests preferred to spend their money on wine.
Without wanting to go into the reasons for this in more...
Once upon a time there was an owl who lived all on his own in a cable car pylon. He was 25 months old and wished for nothing more than a female owl to share the cable car pylon and of course life with him.
But the owl was in fact a strange owl as he had a bit of a problem, which was that he couldn’t take two steps. He simply didn’t dare take the two steps that he would have to walk though to broaden his horizon and maybe spot his desired female owl. To overcome his two steps phobia he...
The spaces in-between
Adda is the only passenger, it’s the afternoon and raining. There used to be 39 metal posts, it says on a poster at the bottom station. The trip up the mountain was a trip to freedom. Today it’s just four. Its charm has been preserved, it says.
The late summer rain pelts against the gondola’s window panes, the valley soon lies under the blanket of fog, the trees hang rather than stand on the rocks, hugging the blocks with their roots. Adda pushes her middle fingers against her ears,...
Like No Where Else in the World
The cleaning lady paused for a second as she found, while tidying up Room 218, a piece of paper, apparently thrown away, that had been covered in colourful writing. Every word had been written carefully in a different colour - red, blue, yellow, orange and brown - as though by a grade school child. She read: "No where else in the world does it smell so good as on the Vigiljoch." The cleaning lady picked up the note and saw that it had been written on the backside as well: