Italy 2026 - Day 7 - Bergamo to Valle d'Aosta

After a couple of cups of coffee and a very inspiring conversation I said good-bye to Monica and took to the road. Google Maps told me I would arrive to Champoluc around 1 pm, but I am not a fast driver and I was going around Milan at the time of morning traffic, so I assumed I would get there at 2 pm, which was just about right.

For some strange reason the autostrada, which was running pretty fluid, would form a traffic jam for no good reason whatsoever, and I would crawl for 10 km when, again mysteriously, the traffic would pick up. In that way, in stops and starts, I reached the foothills of the Italian Alps and entered the Valley of Aosta, named from the main town in the province. I left the visit to Aosta for later in the week and turn after turn, I entered the steep mountain road that climbs up the center line of the valley, until I reached the mountain village of Champoluc.

I was very happy to meet there my dear friends Giulia and Silvia, and Silvia's 10-year old daughter Agnese. Silvia is DJ's cousin and I met her when I visited the coast of Liguria one Christmas six or seven years ago. Silvia put me in touch with Giulia, who rented me a bedroom in her house for a stay of a couple of weeks. Since Silvia, Giulia, and Fabiola are of the same generation I regard them all as my nieces, and their kids as my grandnieces and grandnephews.

Giulia is an excellent cook and in no time whatsoever prepared a pasta a la carbonara for our lunch. The real thing, yumm :)

After lunch we went for a walk to help me get my bearings. Not very difficult really because the valley is narrow and surrounded by steep mountains, very much like Yosemite. We were following the river Evançon, which originates in the glaciers of Monte Roso, a stern mountain massif that dominates the north end of the valley. The Evançon river is almost white because it carries so much rock flour ground from the bedrock by the glaciers.

The bottom of the valley is covered by grass and is one of the main recreational attractions of Champoluc. It hosts a Farmer's Market, a driving range, a mini-golf, and a unique collection of wood carvings. Apparently, the bottom of the valley burnt at some time, and many of the trees were reduced to mere stumps. The artists of the city started carving the stumps to represent old men, owls, fantastic animals, kids crawling out of a trash can, and many other fantastic pieces of art. In modern times more carved stumps have been planted to create a fabulous exposition.

Italy 2026 - Day 6 - Visiting with Monica in Bergamo

Fortunately, our schedules matched, so I had the pleasure of visiting my friend Monica in Bergamo, near Milan. I met Monica in Sardinia, maybe 10 years ago, when we were both lodging at the hotel of our common friend Lino, in Orgosolo, a small town in the highlands od Sardinia, with a distinctive artistic tradition (every available wall was decorated by a mural carrying a strong social message). Monica is a photography/visual artist and at the time was collecting the stories of the old nonnas, of who there are many in Orgosolo.

But I should start by relating the three hours drive from the highlands of Cortina d'Ampezzo down to the plain of the river Po. The road was very twisty but afforded me great views of the Dolomite peaks I was leaving behind. Once on the autostrada my main concern was to keep a close look on my speed, because Italians have gone crazy placing speed-control cameras everywhere! From the biggest city to the smallest hamlet Big Brother is always looking, sometimes every 300 m or so. I also took great care of collecting my entry ticket on every stretch of the autostrada, and paying through the nose for some tolls (I believe the highest was close to 30 euros ... ouch!).

Monica lives on the outskirts of Bergamo, within the industrial complex of the factory of mannequins that his father and uncle founded long ago. I had a tour of the factory five years ago and still remember it as one of the strangest products but for which there is a steady demand.

When I got to her house she had lunch ready with salad and a tasty steamed fish (with lots of bones). While we ate we caught up with what we were up to, and she told me her plans to retire from teaching in a couple of years or so, sell her house, and move to a smaller apartment somewhere in Tuscany to be close to her niece. Her plan is to devote more time to her artistic production, although I think that working with her middle school students has led her to some very creative projects. Two she shared with me is an animation of a world map showing countries at peace, and then successive shots showing with red florets the start and growth of war at different places. The other is a very simple piece of paper, folded into 8 sections, where students place photographs they have taken to create a storybook. I am going to steal her idea to use in my introductory geology classes to have students show what they learnt on a fieldtrip.

For the afternoon we went for a lovely walk around one of the alpine lakes on the mountains north of Bergamo. The lake is variously known as Lago di Endine or Spinone al Lago, and it is particularly pleasant because the crazy touristic development I saw in Lake Garda has not reach this much smaller lake and you can still take your time walking along the shore (7 hours of fast walking if you want to go all around it). We saw many people picnicking on the surrounding meadows, fishing, or just enjoying a lovely afternoon. We ourselves enjoyed a cool drink at the bar we had parked by.

For supper Monica took me to her local pizzeria, where you can buy pizza by the meter, in 20 cm intervals. We bought a 40 cm long pizza, with 20 cm vegetarian and 20 cm prosciutto and mushrooms. The pizza comes in one long strip, and once Monica bought a whole meter to entertain a group of friends. It was a very long pizza box!

Monica has a boyfriend, soon to be a fiancée, who lives in France, so every free time she has spends in France with her Albert. She is one of the most amazing polyglots I know, effortlessly shifting from Italian to French to English to Spanish (in fact, it was the fact that she spoke Spanish fluently who brought us and Lino together in Orgosolo all those many years ago). I thoroughly enjoyed my visit with her and look forward to the next one a few years from now, maybe in Tuscany.

Italy 2026 - Day 5 - Hiking around Cortina d'Ampezzo

Last afternoon I arrived to my overheated room at the Piccolo Pocal Hotel, high on the flanks of the valley of Cortina d'Ampezzo, and after chatting with the gentleman in charge chose an easy walk through the bottom of the valley along the Fanes river. My informant told me that if I was going that way I should push all the way to the waterfall and I foolishly fell for his description of a beautiful cascade of water tumbling down the Fanes gorge. I was also considering doing a high elevation circuit, but he checked on the internet and the funicular or funivia that I would need to use to get up high was closed until July 11. Lástima.

I parked at the south end of the town, thinking that walking through the town early in the morning would give me a good feel of the vibe of this city, famous for being the host of the last Winter Olympics, in February 2026. The truth was less exciting than I had imagined, because the walk through soon sent me to busy streets that had no particular esthetic value. Once I got out of the town the landscape became amazing. The valley where Cortina is located is something between Yosemite and the Jasper Valley in the Canadian Rockies. Everywhere you turn your eyes to there is a fabulous glaciated peak formed by white dolostone, which would be the dream of any rock climber in the world.

The walk along the riverside was relaxing and beautiful. I met many couples and families who were taking advantage of a perfect sunny day. There were also many bicyclists, but most of them were cheating by riding e-bikes. I was feeling very good by the time I finished the stretch of the river I had chosen to begin with, but then got goaded by the suggestion form my buddy at the hotel and continued going up looking for "la cascata". The slope was gentle but long, and I kept thinking that I would have to go downhill on the way back. Maybe I will walk to the next bend in the road ... OK, I will go to the next bend ... I am almost there and cannot give up down ... oh, there is a sign showing "Via ferrata a la cascata del Fanes". I wonder what a via ferrata is?

Oh mio dio! A via ferrata is a very narrow ledge that drops a hundred meters to the bottom of the gorge, where the visitor is helped by a steel cable bolted unto the road. Knowledgeable visitors have a climbing harness and two lengths of cable attached by two carabineers that they hook one at a time to the different sections of the steel cable. I was not prepared and had to balance on the narrow path holding by a sweaty hand to the steel cable. It was only s stretch of 30 m, and the final view of the waterfall was definitely worth it (but I thought going behind the waterfall was tempting my good luck and bypassed the chance of looking at the backside of water).

By the time I got down I was getting pretty tired, but I had noticed that the urban bus could carry me back for the last half of the way. So I went into the local bar, bought myself a beer, and waited for 45 minutes for the next bus. There were three of us when the bus came in, and much to my dismay I learnt that you could not buy a ticket at the bus but had to order it online. All three of us reached for our cell phones, but we were out of range of a cell tower. Finally, the driver was kind and waved us in, but I reflected that this was the most stupid thing I have seen. I could see putting a credit card reader, but having to reach a website, register as a user, and then buy the ticket online sounds really stupid to me. Welcome to the world of AI.

Italy 2026 - Day 4 - Wandering between Ortisei and Cortina d'Ampezzo

Today I am moving from Ortisei to the heart of the Parco Naturale Delle Dolomiti d'Ampezzo, so I had to gather all my stuff. I had drying clothes all over the place, maps and books, a small kettle I bought to be able to have coffee early in the morning, and all my travel documents ... but where is my passport? Last time I saw it was three days ago because Italians are obsessed with "il Documento", which you have to show when you register at a hotel. I must have put it in my pocket, but I don't remember seeing it in the last three days. Diomio! What if it dropped off my pocket in that hike from hell?

Trying not to panic I went over all the pockets of my backpack. Niente di niente. What do you do to get a replacement passport? Might there be a US consulate in Milan? I went to the car and looked through it very carefully with no good results. Panic was rising. I went through my hotel room all over and then, for lack of something better to do I started going through my backpack again. And there it was, in the pocket I normally keep it, but not with my other travel documents. Allora, tutto é a posto :)

Before leaving Ortisei, let me tell you that Ortisei claims to be the wooden-toy capital of the world, with at least 200 families dedicated to manufacturing those wooden toys we associate with old Europe. The most famous citizen of the town is thus Geppetto, the father of the famous Pinocchio. The different toy manufacturers have formed a cooperative to promote the sale of the toys, and by now they have fallen back into a high level of specialization.

I am still very sore, but I didn't want to waste the day, so I drove to the Parco Naturale Puez Odle, to look for an easy hike. The thing is, I couldn't find a place to park, so I had to limit myself to looking with awe at the high peaks all around me. Parking in the narrow mountain roads is very difficult because there is no shoulder, and wherever there is a tiny spot there is a sign that says the space is reserved for this or that. I miss driving through Mexico or the US, where there is always a chance to stop and stretch your legs.

I was more successful in il Monte Pana (pana is the italian word for the cream you put in your coffee, so it would be Cream Mountain). Clearly this is a ski area that makes an extra euro providing for family recreation activities, such as having the cows out where you can walk among them, offering pony rides, operating a mini-golf, and having a playground. I must have been very dull because all I had seen were older people hiking, but this is clearly part of the holiday season and the Dolomites are a big family recreation destination. The cows were super chill and, with the back drop of the tall rock peaks and the mantle of green meadows they constituted the perfect Tyrolean scene. The modern Sud Tyrol is what administratively is known as the Alto Adige province, and it used to be part of the Austro-Hungarian empire. When the axis powers lost World War 1, Woodrow Wilson readjusted the boundaries of Italy, which in 1920 formally annexed the south part of Tyrol. This is why all old inscriptions are in German, and many folks here still use German as the business language.

My last stop of the day was at the other end of the Parco Naturale Puez Odle, in the area of Vallunga, which was my dream walk. The valley here has been carved by glaciers that have excavated a lovely U-shaped valley not unlike that of Yosemite Valley. The towering sides of the valley are coarsely crystalline dolostones that have lost all their primary textures. My kingdom for my geologist hammer! Anyway, going up the gentle slope of the floor of the valley was probably the best I could have done to try to stretch my badly cramped legs. I was reaching the point of return, half the time that I had paid for parking, when it started to rain. Not heavy enough for being of concern, but it reminded me that here in Europe it is fairly common to have summer rains.

I started on my way to Cortina d'Ampezzo, 50 km away, when it started to rain in earnest. I was happy inside my comfortable egg of a car, but I saw many cyclists caught under the torrential rain, which brought back vivid memories of the recent motorcycle trip in Thailand. Rain is the one thing that can easily ruin a bike ride!

My room in Cortina is right under the eves, so I can hear the rain coming down. I hope it lets out overnight, because I am not ready to deal with rain while hiking.

Italy 2026 - Day 3 - I should have stayed in bed ... but I didn't

Ay, ay, ay ... my legs still hurt a lot. I spent a fitful night and reason told me I needed much longer to heal, but I am here only for today, before I move forward, and I couldn't waste a perfectly good day to play the Tyrolese tourist. I figured I could grab my powerful Cinquecento and wander aimlessly through the valley towns, but at breakfast the napkin had a printed message on it: "What are you doing today?" followed by "You should visit Seceda and enjoy its flower-covered meadows". I took it to be a message from up on high, so I asked at the front desk how to get there. "Just take the bus two stops to Ortisei, go up the escalator, through the tunnel, and you will be in the funicular to Seceda (pronounced se-CHÉH-dah)."

So there I go, and learnt that Seceda is at the head of a valley 1,250 m above Ortisei (that would make it something like 2,516 in elevation). It was a very long ride in a two-stage funicular, and I made sure before going that there would be a path that contoured the valley, to keep elevation changes to a minimum. The ride up gave me a close-up view of a huge cliff formed by Permian sandstones and limestones that gave way to section of laminated Triassic dolostones. Finally!

Up at the top there was a total zoo of tourists, crawling like ants all over the place. I joined the ant trail to reach a nearby promontory where I could get a good view of the valley below, and pretty soon learnt that although I can go uphill with a certain ease, any gentle downhill slope forced me to walk like a tottering old man (I got a few compliments for going out walking "in your condition" ... grrr!).

There are a few cabins scattered through the grass slopes of the high valley, all covered with mountain flowers, but the show stopper were the craggy peaks of SAS Rigais (3,025 m) and La Gran Furchéta (2,924 m). I chose a path that looked flat enough and would bring me to the base of the dolomite peaks, but nothing is really flat in this high country and every uphill was a reminder of the sage dictum that "anything that goes up must come down", and every downhill was pure agony, particularly when cheerful Japanese tourist were running up and down the gentle inclines.

Finally, I made it to the start of the rocks, and touched ceremonially a lumpy outcrop of dolostone that remained mute about its origin. Later, at the local museum, I learnt that a basement of schists was covered by Permian lavas and pyroclastic flows erupted as Pangea was coming together, and that during the late Permian and most of the Triassic the dolostones were deposited in an arm of the Tethys ocean. Sea level fluctuated during the Triassic, with the region of Sud Tyrol representing a subtidal and shallow shelf environment, where numerous organisms died to leave their skeletons behind. The most famous of these fossils is a Triassic ichthyosaurus, but the invertebrate fossils are legion.

I tried to breathe as much of the ambiance of the high mountains as possible, and had I not been afraid of not being able to get up I would have gladly laid down among the flowers and consider myself the luckiest man on Earth. But I was afraid I couldn't get up, so instead I spent my time trying not to be trampled by tourists.

Eventually I got down, by mid-afternoon, and got a little walk through the town of Ortisei, which in addition to a museum has all the quaint shops that are to be expected in a major tourist destination. I am very glad that the hotel gave me the bus pass, because trying to park the car in the narrow streets of the town would have been both difficult and very expensive.

Italy 2026 - Day 2 - Exhausted playing mountaineer

 Bright and early I took the bus to the town of Siusi Allo Sciliar, which sits at the base of the mighty Cattinaccio D'Antermoia, a craggy rock complex that rises to an elevation of 3,001 m above sea level. My plan was to take the cable car from Siusi (1,000 m) to Compatsch (1,850 m), and from there to the platform of Bulaccia (2,174). Once I had my eyes full of mountain my plan was to walk down to Castelrotto (1,060 m). The face of Bulaccia is very steep, but there is a marked trail and I thought going downhill would be a piece of cake. Oh, boy, was I wrong.

 

The cable car ride was pretty fun, and once again I marveled at the incredible engineering involved on laying down a cable over two or three kilometers of mountainous terrain, and the machinery needed to pull it in a closed path over such long distance. At the top there were the usual amenities like restaurants and sky shops, and it took me some time to find the right track. It was hot, and as I trundled up the slope I kept wondering if the liter and a half of water I was carrying would be enough for the day. Bu noon I reached the high point, at Arnika Cabin, and from there peeked down with some anguish at the steep drop off to the valley below. Not quite a cliff, but a 60 or 70 degrees slope falling down 1,000 m into the valley.

 

A reassuring sign told me that it was 2 hours to Castelrotto, and with that I started on my way down. I noticed, with some disappointment, that the whole plateau is formed by a porphyritic pyroxene andesite and not by dolostone. Having come all this way to be in the Dolomites, I thought I would have encountered lots and lots of the eponymous rock.

 

With that kind of slope the trail was necessarily like a lumpy stair with unequal step sizes, so the hiker has to "drop" from one rock to the next, relying on good equilibrium to make the step. You do this a hundred times and your muscles start getting tired and become sluggish in the immediate response that is required from them. So you start stumbling, which is a very bad idea on that kind of slope. Immediately I had flashbacks of going down a Tepuy in Venezuela, a steep volcano in Japan, or the Pyrenees in Spain. I remember telling myself in those occasions that I was getting too old for this kind of shenanigans, swearing I would never again attempt such a foolhardy enterprise. Well, this time I paid in spades for not having learnt from my former mistakes, as I tottered down like an old man, thinking twice before taking the next step.

The human body is an astounding machine, and bipedalism has to be one of the key evolutionary moments of humankind. The incredible play between the muscles of the thigh, the keen, and the calf is such that when one muscle over extends, the remaining muscles and tendons exert just the right amount of pull to compensate. The first signal that the system is not working right is that your knees give up under you and make you stumble. I had collected two stout sticks to help me balance, and thus walking as a quadruped managed most of the tricky steps. I had to be very careful at not falling forward, for I would have tumbled tens of meters, so I overbalanced backward and on a half dozen occasions fell sitting down. No big deal, right? Well, it was a big deal, because to get up from the floor your thighs have to apply a significant amount of force and I had none left. So I had to take off my backpack to reduce the weight to be lifted, and by pulling myself up on my walking sticks managed to get vertical again and restart the ordeal.

The trail was pretty lonely, but three or four times I was overtaken by couples, some young and some old, who obviously realized my plight and were very sympathetic. On one occasion, a msn came back from a rest stop to offer to carry my backpack down to the sitting area. I didn't want to acknowledge I could use the help, but he insisted saying he had come back specifically to help me and I had to give in. This cabin, which was half way down, was supposed to be reached in one hour, and it had taken me two hours to do it. Since that was half way, it meant it would take me another two hours or more to reach Castelrotto!

Fortunately, another alternative came to mind. Looking at the map I realized that I could contour the slope to reach the funicular at Marinzen (1,486 m), and from there let technology take me down. So I did that. Contouring was a lot easier that going straight down, and under a light drizzle I was delighted to see the station of the funicular just a few hundred meters ahead.

Down in the town I still walked like I was wearing polio braces, but managed to reach the bus stop just in time to take the bus back to my town, Ortisei, where I could indulge in a heavy dose of Iboprufen and some much needed rest.

Italy 2026 - Day 1 - The Dolomites

Today is really the second day, but I am going to assume that the long and tedious travel took place on Day 0. The only thing worth mentioning is that my flight got delayed by a good two hours in London Heathrow, so I arrived at 9 pm in Milan Linate and from there had to drive two and a half hours to the place I was staying for the night. In the meantime I had to learn how to handle the payment of tolls in the autostrada, and with a grateful heart sank in my pillow for some well-deserved sleep.

Today in the morning I woke up early, with the idea of doing some sightseeing around Lago del Garda, one of the most famous Italian alpine lakes. Unfortunately, for me, the shores of the lake are heavily developed with campgrounds, holiday apartments, and family attractions, so it is really hard to get down to the shore or attempt a shore walk. There were millions of tourists, traffic was heavy, and finding a parking spot was almost impossible. After a couple of hours I gave up and started on my way up the mountains, following the Adige River.

For the first 50 kilometers the road meanders slowly toward Trento climbing the very wide canyon of the Adige. The walls are formed by enormous limestone cliffs in which I thought I can see the outline of an enormous fossil reef. After Trento the canyon narrowed considerably and the road became more twisty. At noon I reached Bolzano, which appeared to be an industrial city devoid of people (today is Sunday). All restaurants were closed until the evening, but like in many other occasions a kebab shop came to my rescue.

By 3 pm I reached Ortisel, nestled between some tall mountains, which will be my center of operations for the next two days. I am now in the region of Sud Tirol, and my very expensive hotel is a very typical chalet. Like all the architecture here it has a strong Swiss influence (in fact, here everything is signaled in Italian and German, and I see many German tourists around me (also lots of Japanese tourists). On the way here I crossed some lovely vineyards, some of which hung like climbing ivy to the flanks of the steep sides of the valley.

It took me all of 5 minutes to get settled and right away I went out looking for an easy hike to warm up and start getting used to the high elevation. Nothing jumped to mind in the immediate neighborhood, but, taking advantage of a complimentary ticket for all buses, I rode the bus to Castelrotto, where they have a funicular. I didn't have time to do a trek using the funicular, but I used the afternoon following one of the labeled paths to get my legs moving and my breathing acclimated. The landscape is spectacular, with vast meadows rising all the way to the bottom of the distant cliffs (during the winter they are the snow slopes that have made the region world-famous). The Spitzbühl (1,935 m) rises its stupendous outline over the meadows, as if defying the tourist to try to climb it. I took the last bus back at 7 pm, but tomorrow I will start at 8:30 am to attempt the climb of the Bullaccia (2,174 m) (but I intend to cheat by taking a funicular almost all the way to the top, and then walking down).

A presto!