Good morning America
The air is warm, cars are huge, the streets too, Americans even more. The american coffee is hot, the houses are snazzy, the trees are really different from ours, such as their snow.
People always smile and say hello, you’re always welcome here…this is America, and the Italians remain astonished. So many things are different from home.
Park City is small, but there’s anything you might desire: supermarkets, shopping malls, espresso coffee, sushi bars, saloons for boozing, clubs for dancing and punching up with drunk locals, the worldwide famous snowpark and Salt Lake City only half an hour away by car.
We’re in Utah, excited and curios to see what will come along in a week, together with the buddies, a bit tourists, a bit locals, a bit less PRO.
Anyway, we finally got here, and there must be a reason why, maybe our passion pushed us forward, maybe we need to change our point of view by living different places from our nest called Italy, different lifestyles, different habits or simply different riding styles. It’s learning through travelling.
At first we’re flashed, at our eyes spaces seem to be endless, the snowpark features pop up like flowers, all rideable in a single run, it’s an enormous playground made for grown children where the level is high, the kikers also…
Knowing new friends is simple here, not like in Italy…
Saloons are crowded at night, you can see people watching matches of any sport but soccer, eating hamburger and chips, beers in their hands, sweating, talking to each other by yelling. The eldest come in with their stetsons, white mustaches and sunburnt skin. It feels like being in a Clint Eastwood movie without cameras around. The Americans are not stupid at all, this is the way they were born, these are their habits, this is their way of living, you have to get into their point of view. Time goes on slowly here, maybe ‘cause you have to wait at least 30 minutes for drinking a coffee before it cools off.
Good morning America.