Livigno Blog

Dinosaurs on the mountain | by Marco De Gasperi


How much is a pat worth.
How much is a kiss worth.
How much is a “good job” worth.
The mountains are made of tales and of the echo of their winds, that no paintings and no film can ever sum up in something that fits in a pocket of your jeans.
The valleys, the mushrooms, the rocks.
The new shoes at my feet, running shoes, that my father gave to me and tied for the first and last time, so that I could follow him on the trail, amid the holly trees.

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Murphy's law | by Letizia Paternoster


I’m first and foremost a girl, a women who loves to bike, who wants to pursue her dreams. Because my dreams revolve mostly around sports right now.
They are huge.
And I could give up anything just to fulfil my dream.
People don’t know this, people will never understand this, because it is something only I can feel.

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12 June: Livigno is ready for a hot bike season

On June 12nd the bike season is ready to start in style in Livigno with the opening of the Mottolino Bike Park, followed by the Mountain Park Carosello on June 26th and the Mountain Area Sitas on July 1st. With the bike area fully open, 3200km of mapped trails will be available and social distancing is of course guaranteed!

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Here, at home | by Antonio Rossi

I know I’ve ruined many athletes, perhaps more than those I’ve managed to inspire.
I’ve always been convinced I don’t have any great physical talent, which is why I thought that the only way I could stand out was by working more than the others.
At least 15% more.
It wasn’t an expression, a mindset as it were, but rather a mathematical calculation.
15% and up.

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Light | by Marta Bassino

When I realized I had won the Giant Slalom Cup, it was as if my whole life had flashed before my eyes in a minute.
Historical events and recurrences, in a game of dates and places that return and that link my
my most beautiful season ever to those of my beginnings, those that really made me
realize that I could belong to this world of absolute excellence.

Throughout the winter, it was like lying to myself, or at least like omitting
some pieces of the truth. When you're doing something great, it's a matter of seconds when
someone distract you tapping on the shoulder and steal it from under your nose, and
then I wanted to protect my journey, pretending not to fully understand its real
value.
I skied free, trying to isolate myself from everything that wasn't strictly "snow and
stakes", convinced that in sports, the sums are only added up at the end.
Always.
Partly for superstition, and partly because anything can happen in skiing, right up to the last gate.

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