Alpine Adventures in Northern Italy

During the planning phase of the trip, we had dubbed this day “Castle Day” (contrary to the name, the castles we saw this day were overshadowed by other attractions). What this day really came to mean to us was the most physically intensive day of the trip with many miles traversing the Alps. When we woke up both heavily feeling the lingering effects of last night's pizza and drinks, we had to laugh at the irony that this was the morning of the arduous “Castle Day”. As we gained the courage to make it downstairs for breakfast, we soon learned that we were the only guests in the entire hotel and that the breakfast had been made solely for us. Being completely humbled by this fact, we gained some newfound energy and started our day on the right foot. As breakfast concluded and we checked out of our hotel, we made the short walk downhill to the local train station.

As our rail passes had expired the day previously (only valid for Germany), we went into the small one room station to purchase train tickets at the ancient compact kiosk. Unfortunately for us, the kiosk was currently occupied by two women who were having some difficulty in purchasing tickets as they only had large bills. As the women continued to fumble with the machine, the minutes continued to slip by. Before we knew it, the train had pulled into the station and we were left standing on the opposite side of the platform, still ticketless. In what felt like an eternity later, the women finally managed to produce their tickets and ran to make the train. With our backs truly up against the wall, we proceeded to push every button on the machine in a desperate attempt to rapidly gain our tickets. As soon as the paper had concluded printing, we were racing through the small tunnel and up the stairs to make the neighboring platform. It was mere moments after we had boarded that the train took off and continued its journey down the tracks. After our little stressful morning sprint, all thoughts of our previous upset stomachs (and pounding headaches) had vanished and we were soon racing down the tracks to our next stop, Chiusa. As we rolled into Chiusa’s small station, we glanced up to the surrounding mountains and were just barely able to make out a small structure on the top of one of the peaks. Checking our phones, we soon learned that this was our next destination: an abandoned monastery at the mountain’s summit.

We knew we had a long trek ahead of us to reach the monastery on the mountain’s summit, but the bright sunlight and surprisingly warm weather (a far cry from what we had experienced previously in Germany) fueled us onwards. Our path to the monastery first had us slipping through Chiusa’s quiet streets, providing us with shaded refuge and charming architectural views.

After making our way to the edge of the city, we were soon greeted with almost prehistoric stone steps that proceeded to lead abruptly upwards. Step after step, we began our lengthy climb, while continuously peering down at the small city below.

Our views were soon supplemented with weathered structures of the Stations of the Cross every couple hundred feet on our path. Continuing to be wowed after each passing glance around us, we soon became startled at the sound of movement up ahead. As we began to come nearer, we soon met some of the mountain’s horned residents. As we caught our breath from the climb, the three small goats waddling around and enjoying the local underbrush became our new fixation.

Unfortunately we had to leave our small horned friends behind, as we continued onwards, the stone steps soon gave way to a more crude dirt path and transported us to another time and civilization.

As the monastery walls started to slip into view, we soon found ourselves on a small outcropping overlooking the now distant city below. Soaking in the views around us while we collected our breaths from the tiring climb, we were struck with true euphoria. Though the entire trip was filled with incredible moments and experiences, it was at this very spot where we were overcome with an almost intoxicating emotion of contentment. Here we were able to have a moment of true reflection and let it sink in that we were in this special place and, more importantly, experiencing it together.

As we reluctantly turned away from this overlook, we were soon being pulled by the massive fortress in front of us. With blocks of stone long weathered by age and a small vineyard out front, the sight before us felt like something stripped directly from the canvas of a classical painting.

Letting our feet guide us, we walked under the large archway and were soon standing in the center of the small walled fortress.

As we strode through the silent and long abandoned compound, we continued the gradual increase in elevation in our journey to the monastery and summit. We began to pass sun bleached, disintegrating doors of prehistoric wood and countless crucifixes and religious statues and knew we were slowly closing in on the monastery. The towering walls soon fell away and eventually our path led us to a large, gaping dark hole partly hidden by years of overgrowth.

Fumbling through the shadowy tunnel, we were soon spurred out into a small courtyard, much different than the one we first entered in the compound below. Instead of withered cold stone, we were now surrounded by buildings of bright inviting hues and ornate designs. It appeared we were now in the inner sanctum of the monastery. Though the monastery lay abandoned with the last remaining nuns having left several years ago, I could almost imagine the soft jingle of rosaries as countless nuns would have scurried about their way to prayer.

As we continued our never-ending climb up to the summit, we soon realized we had completed our last flight of stairs and stood face-to-face with the highest and final structure. As we prepared to enter this elusive and mysterious chapel, we gathered our thoughts and began to fiddle with the ancient iron mechanism of the door in a desperate attempt to enter. After an embarrassing amount of time, we finally uncovered the secrets of the door and were able to shove the large worn wooden mass open. We were then greeted with the following view:

As our eyes adjusted to the light in the room, we were instantly captivated. Ornate carved altars and intricate paintings presented almost a sensory overload. As we gradually made our way to the center altar, we stood frozen admiring this remote and yet intrinsically magical place.

While standing in this small chapel, it was easy to forget we were hundreds of feet up a mountain. Our moments of silent reflection were soon shattered as the wind outside began to howl and violently whip against the nearby windows. Standing at this chapel’s small altar while being continuously shook by the forceful winds outside truly gave quite a mystical feeling; it is not hard to see why this chapel was built on this very mountain all those years ago. Since the 1200s, this mountain has been heralded as a holy mountain and after our experience here, it is easy to see why.

After our time in the chapel had concluded, we decided to head back through the monastery and down the mountain to the city below. Our journey back down was slightly sombering as we didn’t want this experience to ever end. Eventually we found our way back into the city and found ourselves speeding down the tracks to our next stop, Bolzano.

Without much of a strict agenda, we allowed ourselves to be swept up by the crowd and began to slowly meander our way through Bolzano’s streets. We soon found ourselves standing at the outskirts of the city staring up at a large, white marbled monument. This arch (Bolzano Victory Monument) was erected after South Tyrol’s annexation from Austria after World War 1 on the personal orders of Italy’s infamous and notorious Benito Mussolini. Now the monument sits fueling much turmoil and frustration with many claims for its overall removal.

Leaving this controversial monument behind us, we crossed over a small bridge and found ourselves lounging in the lush bright green grass of a nearby park, with the Alps looming on all sides. This seemed to be a favorite pastime as the field was dotted with speckled picnic blankets and many napping locals.

After not being too terribly impressed with Bolzano and desperate for some food, we decided to spring up from our grassy bed and head back to the train station, ending our short time in Bolzano. Before too long, we were soon rolling into Trento, our final stop for the day.

A short walk away from the station, we stumbled upon a small restaurant (Forsterbrau Trento) and had a light dinner at a small table right on the street’s edge. Being rather exhausted from the day’s ventures, we had a quiet meal as we watched the various passerbys and tried to imagine what their lives were like in this small city.

After we had finished our meal, we bound off into the Trento streets and had a long winding walk through the city to our hotel. Once we finally arrived at our hotel (Hotel Garni Villa Fontana), our relief was soon swept aside as we were instead greeted with a sign stating that we would instead have to check in at their sister hotel several blocks over. Absolutely exhausted from the long day, we slowly trudged through the neighboring streets to check in at the other hotel. After we had checked in and made our way back to our original hotel, we quickly crashed on the beds and officially put an end to “Castle Day”.

To see the previous day’s adventure, click here.

To move onwards with us along our journey, click here.