Paul and I celebrated our 30^th wedding anniversary on August 8^th, 2022, and to mark this tremendous milestone, we decided that an epic trip was in order. Our worldly adventures had been put on hold for over 30 months, due to the pandemic. It was finally time to see the world again and The Dolomites, in Northeastern Italy, were calling our names.

The Dolomites are in the high Italian Alps in a remote region that was once part of the Austrian-Hungarian Empire and now borders Switzerland, Austria, and Italy. In World War One, it was a fierce battleground, with battles between the Italians and the Austro-Hungarian army. Italian and German are spoken here, and the Austrian-Hungarian influence is everywhere. The region was named after a French mineralogist named Deodat de Dolomieu, who identified the calcium-rich carbonate rock now called Dolomite. Today, the Dolomites are a protected UNESCO World Heritage site and in 2026, Cortina, in the heart of the Dolomites, will host the Winter Olympics.

We were set to meet our Backroads hiking group in Bolzano, a charming, small city, a two-hour train ride north of Venice and the gateway to the Dolomites. We pinched ourselves, thrilled to be travelling again and excited to meet our travelling companions. Less than 24 hours prior to our meeting time, for a fleeting moment, we thought that we may have to cancel our trip. On a packed train, while adjusting our luggage on a high shelf to make room for a pushy woman who had joined our claustrophobic train cabin, my heavy metal suitcase fell off the shelf and landed squarely on the top of my left hand. Overwhelmed with pain and worry, I immediately felt faint and struggled to find a prone position in the cramped cabin, while Paul frantically searched for ice and a sweet drink to revive me. A surgeon from the next cabin examined my hand and quickly determined that it was not broken because I could move my fingers and my hand still had strength. I quickly removed my wedding ring, as my hand started to swell. Several hours later, while enjoying a glass of wine at Meta, a gorgeous roof-top restaurant in the heart of Bolzano, a precipitous goose-egg appeared on my hand, prompting an urgent trip to the hospital. An x-ray and a consultation with an orthopedic surgeon confirmed the train surgeon’s diagnosis- my hand would be sore and ugly for a while, but I was okay. The hematoma was drained, my hand was bandaged, and surprisingly, when I asked how I could pay for the treatment, the receptionist looked at me with confusion and stated that there was no charge because health care in Italy is free, even for tourists. I met Paul, who was waiting in the dark, chilly night outside the hospital due to COVID protocol and I almost cried with relief. I had waited too long to resume world travel and a swollen, bruised hand was not going to slow me down!

Outside of the Bolzano train station, we met our group of 20 hikers and 2 Backroads guides. Most of the group were American couples and one couple had brought their two young adult daughters along. Everyone was well-travelled, physically fit, and ready for adventure. Our Italian guides, Aitor and Federico were knowledgeable, athletic, gregarious, and quick-witted! Aitor helped us with the pronunciation of his name, with the quip, “Just think of the phrase, I tore my ligament”. Aitor reminded the group of the importance of being on time, and when he stated an important time to meet, he did so with a German accent, and emphasis that the time he was mentioning, was “German time”. We settled into our seats on the coach bus, laughed at Aitor’s jokes, enjoyed the increasingly stunning terrain as the bus climbed into the mountains and we eagerly anticipated our first day of hiking in one of the most beautiful places on Earth.

Our first hike began with a gondola ride to a high mountain alpine terrain of the Catinaccio mountains. The sound of cow bells filled the air as we inhaled deep breaths of clean mountain oxygen, took in the scenery around us and began our ascent to our lunch destination, a rustic rifugio (an alpine hut). The group quickly spread out in single file, as we each found our rhythm and we started to shed clothing layers. One of the reasons we love Backroads is their philosophy of hiking “your way” with guides offering trail support at the front and the back of the pack. Paul and I live on the Niagara Escarpment in Ontario, and we hike the hilly terrain outside our backdoor each day with our dogs. We were ready to select the most difficult hiking options each day, as were several other members of the group. Some group members chose the lighter option, wanting to go at a slower pace and spend more time at the hotel.

Our first hotel was the Romantik Hotel Turm, a hotel in a 13^th– century building with Tyrolean-style décor and an eclectic art collection. Nestled in the middle of a small South Tyrol village, a large cathedral with a distinct onion-shaped steeple and ringing bell tower stood next door. We were delighted to unpack and get comfortable in our mountain-view room. Our reception and dinner in the hotel’s garden that night was magical. We sleepily devoured a delicious wine-paired meal, while getting to know our travel-mates. Paul gently changed the bandage on my hand each night, assuring me that it was healing, while I looked the other way. I did not look at my unbandaged hand until I was home, doing my best to ignore the pain and the ugliness and not wanting to spoil a minute of our trip with worry.

Day Two was action-packed from start to finish. Today we hiked the Volser Weiher Route from Fié to Tuff Alm, with an elevation gain of 2000 feet- this Backroads trip is not for the unfit or faint of heart.  After a delectable breakfast, we met at, “German time” to start our day. We have found that Backroads travellers “get it” and are always on time, ready to hike.  With our backpacks loaded for the day, with water, snacks, and many layers, we were off to another Dolomite alpine. Our hike began at the hotel and as we strolled through the villages along our route, we admired the meticulous homes with their firewood stacked with German precision. Not all our hikes had steep inclines, rather winding paths that went up and up and up. Just as we were starting to feel a bit of hunger, a quaint rifugio would appear and charcuterie platters of delicious meats and cheeses would satiate our hunger until our main meal appeared. A piece of strudel capped off each lunch, well- earned with the 30,000 steps we were doing each day. By lunchtime, the sun had warmed the mountain air, and we could start shedding some of the many layers that we had started the day wearing. Despite a dismal forecast each morning, we couldn’t believe our luck at the gorgeous weather we were experiencing.

Following another delicious meal at a rifugio called the Tuffalm Hut, we descended down a picturesque mountain path to a small spring fed lake, where we indulged in a few scoops of locally made gelato while enjoying the warmth of the September sunshine. A gentle stroll back to our hotel, completed our route for the day and I made a bee-line to my bathtub for a long soak to ease my tired muscles. Following some down time at our lovely hotel, we met the group for a pre-dinner visit to Prosels Castle, for a tour and wine tasting. We met a local winemaker and tasted her vineyard’s best Gewurztraminer and Riesling wines. For dinner, we were welcomed into a local’s home, Martha, for a delicious Tyrolean meal, cuisine designed to warm your body and soul. Martha’s cooking is recognized by the Slow Food movement, an organization that promotes local food and culture. Backroads often provides these unique experiences, that couldn’t be found if travelling on your own. Sleep came quickly that night, after a day of exercise, incredible food and easy discussions with new friends.

On Day Three, we packed up to move to a new hotel, left our bags to be transferred to our next hotel by the Backroads team, then started our day hiking into the near-by village to board a local bus. Once again, the forecast was dismal, and we started the day bundled up in layers and raincoats. We headed to the gondola base at Alpe di Siusi for the most challenging day of hiking of the week, so far. A local guide joined our group for extra support, and right away she had concerns about the weather in the high alpine where we were heading. Soon our hearts were pounding and we started shedding layers. We paused to take a group picture with the mountains that we were about to climb as the backdrop. The ominous clouds that caused our guides to consider different options, miraculously cleared and soon the sky was blue and the sun beamed overhead. The dramatic massifs and rugged landscape were breathtaking. Our lunch destination in Langkofelhutte was worth the effort. Located at 2256 m above sea level, the Rifugio Vicenza al Sassolungo, was incredible. Paul and I were the first of our group to arrive, and we quickly ordered the Bratlartoffeln, a hearty German farmer’s breakfast made with fried potatoes, eggs, bacon and onions, because we were starving! There is something about eating outside on the top of a mountain that you have just climbed… somehow the food tastes out of this world!

Following lunch and a change of our base layers, because we were sweaty and now a bit chilled as the sun dipped below the mountain peak, we were ready for the long hike down. Several kilometres of mostly downhill hiking came easy after the morning’s trek up the mountain; however, I was relieved to board a gondola to take us the final stretch to the base of the mountain and the Gardena Valley. Reinvigorated by our delicious lunch and restful gondola ride, we chose to hike to our hotel, rather than jump in the waiting van. With weary legs, yet feeling satiated with a hiker’s high, we made it to Selva Gardena and our home for the night, the Alpenroyal Grand Hotel. While on Backroads trips, some nights are on your own, yet a large group of us were enjoying each other’s company so much that we decided to dine together that night. It is amazing how quickly you can bond with fellow travellers, while sharing stories of travel.

The next day began with a very entertaining “Route Rap” (description of the day ahead) by Aitor, who brilliantly illustrated the route and the day’s elevation challenges by using props, including toilet paper. We were transported by gondola to the start of our day’s high alpine hike and once again the sun surprised us and shone brightly overhead. Paul and I decided to walk ahead of the group today, to have some time together and go at our own pace. Aitor gave us instructions on where to meet for lunch and we were off, traversing a hillside through the stunning Gardena Pass. Somehow the scenery was more beautiful each day and this day was no exception.

We arrived at the Refugio Col Pradat, a beautiful venue embedded between the majestic Dolomites of Alta Badria. From the deck we had remarkable views of the Mittagstral, Marmolada, Cristallo, Totane, Longkofel and Saaongher Dolomite mountains. Marmolada was where, just three months prior to our trip, an avalanche occurred, killing 6 hikers. The cause of the avalanche was due to global warming and extremely high temperatures, that destabilized a glacier. When we heard about this tragedy, we immediately contacted Backroads and were assured that where we were hiking on this trip was not in the Marmolada region and was at a lower and safer terrain.

Following a delicious lunch on an outdoor deck in the sunshine, our group made our way down the mountain to the gondola to the tiny town of Colfosco and our shuttle to our hotel for the next two nights, the Fanes Dolomite Wellness Hotel, in San Cassiano, Alta Badia. We got settled in our stylish and cozy mountain view room, in my opinion the nicest of the three hotels on this trip, before heading into town to do some shopping. I was thrilled to find a light-weight down, Swiss-made jacket, the perfect souvenir of this trip. After days of hiking in shorts and t-shirts, I thought this jacket would be tucked into my suitcase for use back at home in the cool months ahead- I was wrong.

We awoke the next morning to a blanket of snow and a snow storm. The picturesque village outside our window was frosted like a cake. Our leaders pivoted, changing our morning plans while we waited for the storm to pass. One of the leaders, Federico, gave a talk on alpine rock climbing and shared a slide show of trips he has led in Argentina and beyond, convincing me that alpine rock climbing is a sport that I will never try.

As we bundled up for the day’s adventures, we were thankful that our good friends at home had suggested packing winter gear because they had done this exact trip a few years prior and it had snowed. I put on my warmest clothes, a hat and gloves, and my new jacket, under my Gortex raincoat. How did we go from shorts and t-shirts to winter gear in one day?

Our first stop in the Dolomite winter wonderland was the Forte Tre Sassi War Museum in Cortina d’Ampezzo. Located 2,197 m above sea level, this fort was built by the Austrians on what was once the Austrian- Italian border. Now it is a fascinating museum that contains thousands of historical artifacts of World War One, collected by the Lancedelli family. We learned about the hardship the soldiers endured, living through war at this altitude in difficult weather conditions. Our visit was in mid-September and winter had arrived; we could not imagine how tough it was for soldiers over 100 years ago.

Soon the sun came out, and we headed to a chairlift at Bai de Dones, for a ride to our lunch at Rifugio Nuvolau, at the mid-point of the mountain. High winds pushed our chairlift around, dangerously close to the supporting towers. While we waited for the rest of the group to arrive, we asked Aitor to take a picture of us at the top, and we were nearly blown off our feet by a huge gust. We hurried into the warm rifugio, for a hearty gourmet lunch, then noticed that the chairlift had shut down for the day, due to high winds. The only choice to get down the mountain was to hike a steep, winding and snowy trail, 5 km to the bottom. For the several southerners (unaccustomed to snow) and older folks in the group, this was a daunting challenge. Paul and I hike in snowy conditions for five months of the year, so without hesitation, we layered up, grabbed our poles and started down the mountain. The guides spread themselves throughout the group, lending an arm or shoulder to those who needed support. The warm September sun started to melt the snow on the downhill path, as we chatted with new friends the entire way down and in no time, we saw our bus waiting to take us back to our hotel and our final evening as a group.

The next morning, we squeezed in one more hike, hopping on the gondola in San Cassiano around the corner from our hotel and headed up to the Pralongia mid-alpine for an up and back hike. It was lovely to take a gentle stroll as a group, finishing our stories with one another and exerting our legs one more time before the long journey home. We had time to take lots of group and individual pictures, the photographers in the group, snapping away while promising to share the pictures on a website that a fellow traveller had set-up. We all vowed to stay in touch and remarked how great it would be if we ended up on the same trip another time.

The bus ride to Venice was harrowing, winding around narrow hair-pin turns through the snowy Dolomite mountains. I closed my eyes and held my breath as our bus driver skillfully squeezed by oncoming buses, while also avoiding dare-devil cyclists sharing the same narrow passes. The steep drop-offs along the downhill side of the road, were not for the faint of heart. I focussed on the scenery and gazed out of the bus windows, taking in the panoramic views and made a promise to myself to return to this part of the world one day. The Dolomites are truly one of the most beautiful places on Earth.

Epilogue

The coach bus dropped us off at the Venice Airport, and then we took a water taxi to our hotel, the Gritti Palace, for our last night in Italy. Located on the main canal and in the heart of Venice, we relished the luxury of our room and surroundings, as we enjoyed the last night and final morning of a remarkable trip.

I had been travelling for over two weeks, having piggy-backed this incredible anniversary trip with Paul with my book club trip to Croatia. I had loved every minute, yet I was ready to get home to my family, my dogs, routine and the beauty of Ontario’s fall colours.

My injured hand survived the trip and I managed to ignore it most of the time. In the weeks following our return home, my hand turned many shades of black, blue, green and yellow. I visited my doctor and was told, that despite its appearance, my hand was on the mend. By mid-October, I was finally able to play golf again. Four months later, as I write this blog, my hand is almost healed.

One unwanted souvenir of this trip was a bout of COVID, caught by Paul on the flight home, and then shared with me several days later. We quickly recovered from this horrible virus, and were very thankful that we did not get sick while travelling.

We loved our experience with Backroads and cannot wait to go on another adventure with this fabulous travel group! Oh, the places we will go!