626 - Lago de Braies
Today I took perhaps one of the most European photos possible.
But it all started at a rip-off American restaurant in the town of Toblach. We’d just spent the night driving back down to Italy, and this restaurant, ironically known as Mexico City, was the last thing open.
The menu was 75% pizza, 20% burritos, and 5% “American black angus,” which was advertised next to a battle hardened cow staring you down in front of the American flag.
I got the ribs. Not because I wanted them, but because the burrito photos made me realize the closest Mexican was at least 1000 miles away. And luckily enough, the ribs weren’t too bad. Nothing to write home about, but we’re not exactly in Texas here.
After dinner we snuck into our bed and breakfast and eagerly awaited tomorrow’s plans. The goal was to hit Lago de Braies, which was the European equivalent of Mesa Arch. At least in terms of popularity, that is.
You’ve probably seen photos of it online without even realizing it- just imagine a crystal blue lake, a gorgeous mountain backdrop, and a long chain of wooden boats leading dreamily out into the water.
That last part is key. People love a good wooden boat.
We arrived at the butt crack of dawn. And much to our surprise, we were the first on the scene- but certainly not the last. Over the course of the next hour, people poured in by handful until that fated moment when the sun finally peaked over the ridgeline:
And boom. Viral sensation.
Fun fact about this angle: you’re actually not allowed to shoot from this spot. There’s a shoreline right at the base of the lake where most people stand, but they’re cropped out from the shot. Directly behind the shoreline is a steep hill filled with eroded mini trails, and a giant “AREA CLOSED” sign.
I’m assuming they wanted to rehabilitate the hill because so many tourists had walked around on it, plus, it was kind of dangerous. Very steep, with mini rocks that could be accidently kicked onto unassuming tourists below.
My stance has always been that it’s a free Earth. If a park ranger wants to enforce a notice like this to my face, go ahead, I’ll abide. But if no one’s there, it’s open hunting. This world is just as much mine as the people who decided to set up camp at this beautiful destination and make arbitrary rules.
This isn’t a black and white philosophy, though. It does come at a personal discretion- if it’s obvious I’d disrupt some type of wildlife by trespassing in a scene (like a delicate field of flowers or tundra grass, for example,) I’d reconsider.
But this eroded trail was already as dead as it gets- and the view from below wasn’t getting any better.
The next shot I snagged was along the shoreline, where a fallen tree laid as a beautiful foreground for the lake:
Now that’s my original take on the lake. Although it’s probably not that original given the sheer number of photographers coming here on a daily basis. But definitely in the 5% tile.
After the sun rose, we decided to take a walk around the lake to see if there were any smaller, more intimate scenes we could get ahold of. I landed on a photo of this bridge, which was still misty from the morning dew:
Anyway. That’s that. A European sensation with ribs from the American nation. Hot damn.
