The Dolomites have been called the most beautiful architecture in the world, and Cortina d’Ampezzo, its pearl.
It’s where Lindsey Vonn won more times than any other skier and where the American women love to race.
That’s why I’m here on my birthday, my sixth at the Olympics.
The skiing fates had different plans for Vonn this time, but her teammate Breezy Johnson reached 85 m.p.h on the mile-and-a-half-downhill to win the first gold medal of the Games for the U.S.
I spent my morning at the bottom of the women’s downhill on a bluebird day with breathtaking views. It was a workday, but the kind of workday that might make you question any retirement plans you have rolling around in your head.
But by day’s end, I was reminded that spending carefree days in Maine might just be the way to go.
A spectacular morning gave way to an endless hunt for a bus, any bus, to Venice, so I could catch the last train from there back to Milan. At best, a six-hour journey from Cortina.
The volunteers, like at most Games, are pleasant, well meaning and clueless. This will get me in trouble with our favorite volunteer, Leah, who knew exactly what to do at the London Games. Leah, I feel like it’s your duty to volunteer — and train — at all subsequent Games.
If I get pointed in a different direction one more time I might just break down in tears.
Rooms are scarce if not completely taken in Cortina, and I had checked out of my room in the morning. That room was now gone and a search by Libby, our intrepid logistics manager, was coming up empty. Even if I missed the last train to Milan, I could spend the night in the Venice train station. At least it would have heat because by now the sun was down and it was getting cold in Cortina.
The trusty health app on my phone was alerting me that I was walking much more than average that day. Clever, that app!
After two hours I was assured that I was in the right place to get the bus to Venice, but there would be no more buses today. 16,000 steps lugging my backpack and camera gear. If memory serves, all those steps were uphill. The app gave me no credit for that.
Now do I eat? I had only a coke all day, or do I look for a warm spot for the night? I was next to a church, maybe they would take pity on a grey-haired, cold, homeless man and let me sprawl out on a pew. I opened the door — in the middle of a late mass. Oh yeah, it’s Sunday.
I would start walking again, looking for a place to eat. I’ll stop back at the church later.
As I walked, my phone buzzed. It was Saint Libby. Joe, I found a room for you in the attic of a hotel. Would that be ok?
BLESS YOU! I texted back!
Sights and sounds of Cortina. For some who may have missed it the first time, these are slideshows. Just hit the arrow to advance. There are 7 photos. Clever, this app.
Eat at Joe’s 
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