So, there I was. Hanging out in my swimsuit, hair drawn back, just minding my own business and relaxing in the delicious, luxurious Scandinave Spa, a stone's throw from Whistler town centre. The husband and I had split up for the afternoon he had decided to traverse the peaks of Whistler and Blackcomb on the peak2peak gondola, and I'd chosen a slightly less terrifying mountain vista to enjoy. It was just one of those days where we'd decided happily to do two different things, and meet up afterwards for a spot of dinner. Cascading down the hillside, the Scandinave Spa's rustic installations nestle on the edge of the Lost Lake Park spruce and cedar forest and promises to both relax and invigorate you, and provide an escape from daily stress. With several levels of hot and icy plunge pools, sauna and steam rooms, everyone wanders from indoor to outdoor relaxation spots from sun-soaked spot to waterfall spout back massages. Bliss. It's also a place where silence is "essential to the experience. By embracing silence one finds inner stillness, leading to complete relaxation." To be honest, most people who couldn't be quiet i.e. me just talked in hushed tones, but it made for a super chilled few hours. Until I was sitting in one of the steam rooms (does that make the title clickbait? Sorry using the title 'steam room with Lady Gaga' made it sound as though we were chickens cooking in a slowcooker) and a very, very slim blonde lady slipped in. Queen Gaga herself. I've got to be honest, sticking to the 'no eye contact with other people who are chillaxing' rule, I didn't pay very much attention to what was going on, but after 25 minutes or so of basting relaxing, I stretched languidly my bones like toffee and wandered out to the next room, and looking up from the drinks table, had to blink several times as she followed me out. Trying to play cool, I tried keep a poker face (after all, she was there to relax and recuperate in the middle of a big Canadian tour, she didn't need a random Kiwi gawking at her)... Who didn't need a random kiwi gawking at her? - not enough information - the one who finds inner stillness - Lady Gaga - the chickens cooking in a slow cooker
Lady Gaga

Last month we spent a few wonderful days visiting our friends Rosa and Massimo who live just outside of Trento. It was our third visit to the area (on one of them I snapped up this recipe for persimmon cake), so I feel it's about time to share some our favourite things that we've been shown by locals. Trento is only a four hour drive from Florence passing Bologna and Verona on the way, which could make very good pit stops if you feel the need to, FYI yet it feels a world away in terms of the landscape and the food, from the golden, rolling hills of Tuscany. Cue towering mountains harbouring mushrooms and berries, lush valleys and turquoise lakes, vines grown on pergolas, enormous plates of sauerkraut and polenta in abundant portions, delicious wines and rustic cakes with German names. Trento is the capital of Trentino, an unusual region of Italy because its official languages are Italian and German and it is actually made up of two self-governing provinces and is known as Trentino-Alto Adige or Trentino-Sudtirol. Confused? Since the eighth century, it has been part of the Austro-Hungarian Empire and only a century ago did it become Italian. It is squeezed between Lombardy and the Veneto to the west and southeast and to the north lies Austria and Switzerland. So it is no surprise that many of the food influences come from its neighbours particularly the northern ones. Eating in the region means eating heartily, even in the summer sunshine, we enjoyed abundant portions of canederli (large rustic dumplings made of bread, herbs and meat, ham or cheese in broth), masses of soft, creamy polenta with thinly sliced roast pork or sausage ragu and slow-cooked beans or thick venison steaks, sauerkraut and gnocchi (sometimes made of out of polenta). I think one waiter was highly disappointed that we weren't able to finish our gargantuan plates one hot day on a mountain with a view of the Dolomites. Somehow there was always room for dessert, though adopted from German and Austrian specialties, you can find cakes... Why are Bologna and Verona good pit stops for the author? - They are on the way to Trento their destination - not enough information - they are on the way to France - they are on the way to Germany
They are on the way to Trento their destination

(Question)
For a moment, Paul wasn't even sure who had walked into the room. Chloe had totally transformed herself since he'd last seen her. She wore a wig for starters, and a very good one. It was light brown and shoulder length. It looked so natural that if he didn't know she had much shorter hair, he would have guessed that she had dyed it. But it was the outfit that made the change. She wore a well-tailored, very professional, gray woman's skirt/blazer combo with a yellow silk blouse. Her wrist sported what looked to Paul's uneducated eye like an expensive and fashionable gold lady's watch from which he thought he detected a glint of diamond. In short, she looked just like the high priced lawyer she was supposed to be. She was certainly the best-dressed person in the room. Chloe reached across the table to shake Greg's hand, stretching forward as she did so. Paul watched Greg glance down at her cleavage while he shook her hand. "I'm Rachel Roth, here on behalf of Mr. Paul Reynolds." "Hi," said Greg. "I'm Greg Driscol, and this is..." "I know the rogues gallery here," said Chloe cutting Greg off and looking around at the assembled board members. "I've learned all about you gentlemen." Marie stood up and shook Chloe's hand. "Marie Cooper, from Johnson, Myers, and Wick," she said. "Nice to meet you," she said. "Ok, we've got the intros down, shall we get on with the dirty business?" "Um, sure," Greg said as he sat back down. "I was just about to turn things over to Marie." The plan was now in action, and so far so good. But Paul knew that this was a crucial moment. Chloe didn't really know the law - just a few points that her friend had helped her out with. She couldn't let the real lawyer take over the meeting. Her dramatic, unexpected entrance had them off guard, and Paul hoped she seized the moment and pressed on. How long does the introductions probably takes? - not enough information - One minute - Thirty minutes - Five minutes
(Answer)
Five minutes