Hiking From Hotel to Hotel in the Dolomites

The Dolomites mountain range in northern Italy is a prime example of how certain destinations appear to become wildly popular overnight. I know two dozen people who have gone there in recent years, and yet during all my time as a travel journalist, I can recall just one article on the region—and that was sometime before the turn of the century. I suspect social media gets the credit/blame: the scenery is spectacular enough to make you stop scrolling and pay attention, with the comforts of western Europe.

All of which is to say that 1) I worried the hiking trails would be crowded, but they weren’t, possibly because we went in early September and/or we didn’t take the most dramatic routes; and 2) this should have come as no surprise at breakfast one morning.

Having been on guided hiking trips with Backroads (New Zealand) and Explora (Peru) this year, my husband, Adam, and I were ready for something more independent. We booked an eight-day self-guided itinerary with Ryder-Walker, a Telluride-based outfitter that specializes in traveling on foot. (As always, we paid our own way and no one knew I’d be writing about it.) The idea is that we would walk from Fiè allo Scillar/Völs am Schlern* to Cortina d’Ampezzo, with Ryder-Walker prearranging a couple of taxi rides and all baggage transfers, so we only had to carry day packs. (*While the mountains are technically in Italy, the culture feels more like Austria, and some places have names in two languages.)

The cost for double occupancy was $8000; that covered all breakfasts and most dinners, the  taxis and baggage transfers, and access to an app with step-by-step navigation and advice on where to stop for lunch. We did customize the itinerary a bit, which Ryder-Walker was fine with. We opted to skip the first night in Bolzano and instead spend two nights in Fiè allo Scillar, and we substituted a different hotel (recommended by friends) for the one that Ryder-Walker is currently using in Corvara.

After flying into Venice and surviving a three-hour drive into the mountains, we met up with friends from Connecticut at Romantik Hotel Turm in Fiè allo Scillar. Its website had made us all nervous about what to expect, but it was a pleasant surprise. The hotel is in two main parts: the old building you see below and an addition that drops down the hillside in back. (Discombobulation is inevitable.) Besides lovely views, particularly from the dining room, the hotel has a handful of distinguishing quirks: a natural indoor rock wall for climbing, an impressive art collection (including two Picassos), mysterious empty cribs in some of the hallways, and novel instructions for parking.

The first day’s hike, a loop east of the hotel, helped us get comfortable with the app and introduced us to the fact that we’d be encountering a lot of shrines. I regret not having a swimsuit to stop for a dip in the lake.

The big discovery of the hike—and of the trip in general—was all the hotel-restaurants called rifugios* in the middle of nature, so after hiking for a couple of hours, you’re rewarded with a civilized lunch experience. (Waiters!) The food tends to be hearty. (*I generally resisted the urge to pronounce it “rifoofio,” in the old-school Santa Barbara manner.)

The next day, we took a short taxi ride, a gondola, and a chairlift to the Alpe di Siusi. “Alp” originally meant a high pasture or meadow, and the initial walking was easy and gorgeous, passing cows, horses, and turkeys along the way. It turned brutal as we ascended the Sciliar peak. Most of the trail is exposed to the sun, and while we were lucky to have almost no rain on the trip—which would make for an entirely different experience—I did find myself praying for clouds. Not once did we wish we had a guide, however, and the excellent app meant members of our group could travel at different speeds.

The hills are alive with the sound of cowbells.

Lunch was at Rifugio Bolzano, which shows up like a mirage. Because there’s no road, deliveries come via a cable car or helicopter.

The hike continued with a traverse of the Altipiano dello Sciliar…

…and then on to the Tierser Alp/Rifugio Alpe di Tires, where we were spending the night. The approach to the rifugio is nothing short of spectacular.

There are a lot of rifugios in the Alps, and you can put together an itinerary where you only stay at them, which would be extraordinary trip. But it requires forsaking comfort to a considerable degree, for accommodations are spartan. We had told Ryder-Walker we’d only do the rifugio if we could reserve private rooms (vs. bunks in a communal space), and we were fortunate enough to also have showers and sinks. But this rifugio had only six toilets—three each for men and women—for the 100 or so guests. Moreover, when the place gets crowded, guests sleep in the hall. You really have to watch your step when venturing out in the middle of the night.

For all the remoteness, the rifugio does an excellent job. I was thrilled to have experienced it, and I was delighted to move on in the morning. Two pieces of advice for anyone headed there: bring earplugs and get in line early for breakfast.

Ryder-Walker offers two routes to choose from each day, and the previous day’s hike—7.5 miles, with an elevation gain/loss of 3,000/1,600 feet—was par for the course for the more difficult options. On day three, we took the easier route to the town of Selva di Val Gardena. In hindsight, that was probably a mistake, because the app’s description sounds amazing. (“Beginning with a traverse beneath the Denti di Terrarossa, you will enjoy expansive views over the Alpe di Siusi as you head toward the Sassopiatto and Sassolungo. Your route travels directly between the two peaks to a high saddle with a dramatically situated cable car.”) But our legs needed a break, and the forecast threatened rain. And anyway, the lesser route was far from a disappointment.

We were amused to see marmots poking their heads up. Less charming was the cow blocking the way. Having just read about a hiker trampled by cows in the Austrian Alps, we gave it a wide berth.

I insisted on a mid-morning Linzer cake break at a rifugio.

As we neared a different rifugio for lunch, we noticed that the hikers shifted from German-speaking to predominantly Italian. If I may make some generalizations, the German speakers were taciturn, while the Italians were often in large groups, chatty, and splaying their walking poles everywhere. (Neither nationality cedes an inch of trail willingly.) The lunch spot felt more like a posh ski resort than a rifugio, but it satisfied. We had been ordering lemonade and loving it, only to eventually learn that it’s an Italian canned product called Lemonsoda.

From there, it was a short hike down to catch the bus to Selva di Val Gardena. The town was cute, but we didn’t see that much of it, as the rain started right as we arrived at the hotel.

The Hotel Tyrol was easily my favorite accommodation of the trip. While it’s possible that I was simply relieved to be in an actual hotel room, with a toilet and everything, I also got the impression that the management cares. I wished we could’ve stayed there one more night. Hiking from place to place is great, but one does grow a little weary of never staying anywhere long enough to let it soak in (not to mention all the packing and unpacking).

I especially loved the vibe of the hotel’s bar, and I was peeved to discover that a Backroads group had reserved the entire area before dinner.

Breakfast was a highlight of nearly every day; Europeans do a breakfast buffet far better than we do, and all the calorie-burning meant you could eat with relative abandon. The Hotel Tyrol went above and beyond, with beautiful cakes, a tub of gorgonzola dolce, and a giant slab of chocolate from which you could hack off chunks.

Day four was the one day we actually walked the entire way—no taxi, no gondola, no bus—from one hotel to another. That we hadn’t done so before wasn’t a huge bummer, but I did like the idea of it more. The hike started out in a chilly, shaded valley with frost on the grass, and then went up, up, up, often via stairs, to the dramatic Rifugio Puez for lunch.

The descent into a different valley was breathtaking, although it ends by passing through a ski resort, where all the infrastructure kills the natural mood.

The sign below was the first time I noticed the local Ladin culture. “Parch natural” is neither German nor Italian, but Ladin.

Ryder-Walker had insisted that we’d be better off using its app’s GPS than Google Maps or AllTrails, and that proved absolutely true as we entered the town of Corvara via shortcuts that the other apps were unaware of.

The downside to hiking from hotel to hotel is that you show up at the front desk looking and possibly smelling a little rough, especially compared to guests who have arrived by car. And La Perla, which friends had recommended, thought highly of itself. (It was the only place on the trip where the bill had a line for tipping.) We were more ambivalent. The room didn’t have the panache of Hotel Tyrol, and a loud wedding on the premises didn’t help, even if the choice of “Like a Rolling Stone” to welcome the wedding party at the reception gave us something to talk about.

I’m going to vote no on the welcome flowers in the toilet. I don’t want surprises of any kind when I lift that particular lid.

To La Perla’s credit, the owner was on the premises and made a point of introducing himself. He’s a music fan with broad taste, judging from the names engraved in a glass door and the free tour of the wine cellar. I’m not going to spoil that experience other than to say that it’s one you’re unlikely to find anywhere else, and wine is pretty much beside the point.

We had a full day in Corvara, and the hike was along the plateau of a ski resort with far too many people—walking, riding bikes, even driving cars. (I would’ve preferred cabbing to somewhere better.) Craving alone time, I walked back to town and took myself to lunch at a café. And then we had dinner at a pizzeria. The two meals made for a refreshing change from dining at hotels. That’s one thing about this kind of trip: it really is more about each day’s journey than any of the destinations.

If you’re getting tired of reading about hiking, imagine how we felt. I kid! The hiking was fabulous, up there with Patagonia. But the prospect of putting boots on yet again was beginning to chafe. Fortunately, our last hike was a beaut: after a serious ascent right out of the gate, with World War I remnants along the way, we dropped into a stunning valley and then traversed through varied terrain.

You know you’re getting hungry when a monolith looks like a slice of cake.

We were to have lunch—and get picked up by a taxi—at Rifugio Angelo Dibona. I finally remembered to take a photo of the menu, and while it was more ambitious than at the other rifugios, it does give you an idea of what they’re all like. Several restaurants along the way offered a dessert of vanilla ice cream with warm raspberries, fantastic every time. I googled to see if I could find a recipe and was tickled to learn that it’s called heisseliebe, German for “hot love.”

Our hiking trip ended at Faloria Mountain Spa Resort outside Cortina d’Ampezzo, the least interesting of the hotels, but by that point we were beyond caring—and the giant indoor pool, with an indoor/outdoor hot tub (divided by a sliding glass door), felt great.

It’s highly likely we’ll take another self-guided trip with Ryder-Walker—elsewhere in the Alps, perhaps, or back to the English countryside. Because my downtime is often spent working, I would consider building in more two-night stays—to catch my breath now and then, and to see a little more of the towns. But my main piece of advice for anyone considering a trip where your luggage gets transported is to put Apple Air Tags inside them. One day, when we saw that our bags hadn’t budged, we knew to poke the taxi company about picking them up. (It had forgot.)

P.S. “You only love Milan because other people tend not to,” said Adam, which I resisted. While I may have enjoyed it more after a week in the country, I truly loved it for what it is: a busy, sophisticated city that hasn’t succumbed to tourism the way Florence and Venice have.

I ate up the brawny, masculine architecture and interiors…

The doors and the entry courtyards…

The streetcars, the metro…

The formal attire of waiters, the aperitivo snacks…

Even the batshit-crazy parking!

There was a sexy blasé quality to it all. An all-business vibe is less appealing in a waiter, however, which marred an otherwise delicious meal at Rovello. (Gently teasing him for translating zabaglione as “egg nog pudding” didn’t help our relationship.) The server at Denis pizzeria, meanwhile, felt comfortable enough to share his drag name from his San Francisco days.

And we had terrific gelato at Artico, which I read about in a helpful blog post.

When we were looking for a hotel room, we were shocked at the rates—they skyrocketed during the couple of days we’d be in the city. At check-in, a staffer said we were actually there during a lull between Formula One and fashion week. So we’ll never know why we overpaid at Casa Baglioni, which was fine but not fine enough to return to. The two main memories of our stay will be when I tried on the shortest robe I’ve ever seen and went full kimono even with the sash tied, and when Adam insisted that someone come look him in the eye and tell him that the room really was 16° Celsius (61° Fahrenheit), as the thermostat indicated. Also, our room had far more draperies than windows, so we always felt like recluses.

I had never been to Milan, which meant we had to hit basics, like the Duomo. That floor!

Killing time before our Duomo visit, we had a coffee and a fagottino pastry—you have something to say about that?—at Pasticceria Marchesi, on the second floor of the Galeria Emmanuele Vittorio II. I was surprised how many of the patrons were locals.

I dragged Adam to the Fondazione Prada, far from the city center. The art was weak; the architecture by OMA—former industrial complex has been complemented with new buildings—was wonderful. I especially admired the double-helix staircase, one spiral for visitors and one for staff; the locator maps embedded in the ground (with a small dot indicating where you’re standing); and square pavers made of concrete cast to look like wood.

The gallery made for a rich contrast with the exquisite Villa Necchi Campiglio, built in 1935 and showcased in I Am Love, the 2009 film in which Tilda Swinton renounces a life of privilege for a sexy chef. (Oh, to have it all….) Lunch in the café was disappointing, but then my seat faced the preparations for an ExxonMobil event.

The excursion would’ve been worthwhile even if we hadn’t toured the villa, because look at the buildings across the street.

I’m not much of a shopper, but I do like Acqua di Parma, which I fell in love with during a visit to Villa Feltrinelli on Lake Garda many years ago. (Still the best hotel I have ever been to.) I made Adam buy me a candle for my birthday next month. I hardly needed it; I only kind of wanted it; and I certainly could’ve bought it myself. The real gift was him having to find room in his bag—no small feat when you’re doing carry-on only for a three-week trip.

Rather than head straight home, we stopped in New York City for a few days, flying from Milan on the all-business-class airline La Compagnie. The tickets were cheaper than on a legacy carrier. And the experience was worlds better—everyone boards at the same time, with no zones or scrum; the bare minimum of in-flight announcements; free wi-fi that stays on during takeoff and landing; no watching in embarrassment as coach passengers file by…. (Joke.) It felt civilized, perhaps the way flying did back in the day.

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Previous travel coverage:
••• A Ramble Through the English Countryside
••• Notes from Up North: Healdsburg, Mendocino, and San Francisco 
••• There’s More to Peru Than Machu Picchu
••• On a Backroads Tour of New Zealand’s South Island
••• Navigating the North Island of New Zealand
••• Don’t Be So Quick to Write Off Phoenix
↓↓↓ The Most Magical City in the World
••• One and Done in Sedona
••• A Proper Visit to Santa Monica
••• A Quickie in San Francisco
••• Dipping a Toe Into Southern Corsica
••• The Exquisite Luxury of Taking Paris for Granted
••• Santa Rosa Island in One Day
••• Soaking Up History at Castle Hot Springs
••• Driving Through the Heart of Hokkaido
••• Tokyo Is a World Unto Itself
••• Paso Robles, Pinnacles National Park, and Beyond
••• A Review of the Inn at Mattei’s Tavern
••• Another Quickie in L.A.
••• Sitting Pretty at the One & Only Mandarina
••• The Mysteries of Istanbul
••• Palm Springs: Midweek at the Oasis
••• Exploring the Sea Caves of Santa Cruz Island
••• A Summer Swing Through the Northeast
••• Why Is Everyone Going to Portugal?
••• Patagonia Made Easy
••• A Quickie in L.A.
••• From Penthouse to Pavement in Mexico City
••• Do Greek Islands Live Up to the Fantasy?
••• Splendid Isolation at Utah’s Lodge at Blue Sky
••• Three Reasons to Visit Paso Robles Now

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