It is raining this morning. Light misty rain, but moving into an all day steady drizzle. I search google maps and apple weather for patches of dryness to see if anywhere close is a better (drier) way to spend our day. Rain. Check again. More rain. Eventually, I find dry patches high in the Italian Alps.
Actually my handsome chauffeur needs very little encouragement. Sometimes I can’t believe he is so agreeable. I love that about him. So with our trusty google maps we head for the Alps.
We drive about 90 minutes. Through mountain tunnels and little towns, our car chugs along. The Ticino area follows the banks of the Toce River. Back and forth across the river we go, hugging the steep mountain roads.
The towns are charming. Some present themselves as pristine resort areas for hikers and skiers, others are largely abandoned. Structures with collapsed roofs are refuge for cows with enormous bells tied to their necks. Their gentle mooing and the tinkling of the bells make me smile. I ask to stop the car several times, so I can sit with the windows down and just listen.
At the top of the mountain, we find Cascata de Toce. The waterfall is the start of the river that winds its way through the Ossula Valley. Sitting alongside like a proud parent, is a lovely yellow hotel and cafe. Sipping cappuccino by a pellet fueled heater, I almost forget it is barely 40 degrees outside. Cloudy with high visibility, it isn’t raining. My weather app was correct. The waterfall is spectacular. The Panini fresh. Life is as it should be. At least in my world.
Next to the restaurant, stands an old Walser chapel. The Walsers are people of German descent who have lived in Northern Italy for generations. This road was once a primary trade route. The hotel was a way station and the chapel a place to give thanks for safe passage over the mountain. Today the road isn’t used much with the addition of autostradas and super tunnels, but the chapel is still a small and beautiful reminder to give thanks for our many travel blessings.
On our way back down the mountain, we hike to the foot of the waterfall, dodging cow patties and muddy tracks of livestock. Old men make makeshift paddocks out of string. I am not sure how it holds their cows. Sheep wander down the road at will. I am ridiculously happy. Like a small child on their first trip to the zoo, I clap my hands and repeatedly rolled down the windows to listen for the jingling of the bells. My husband thinks I am ridiculous and I don’t care.
We stop at the Premia Baths, a modern geothermal pool facility at the base of yet another waterfall. We buy the swim caps as they are mandatory. We dress in our respective locker rooms and reemerge into the pools. I go the wrong way and am chased back by the attendant to the correct entrance. I am required to enter through a long corridor of shower heads. I must enter the pool already wet. Maybe the shower cap doesn’t look right unless it is wet. The sprinkles are not strong enough to serve any other purpose.
For the next hour, I am in heaven. Hot water with massaging waterfalls treat my back. Jacuzzi jets, lounging water massage tables, cold baths, hot baths….all under the shadows of glorious alpine mountains. With Alpine waterfalls in view and an abundance of trees and flowers, I think I have entered paradise. A hot bath with messaging jets in nature is about as close to heaven as I can imagine.
The drive back is simple enough. We stop in Crodo to see the historic baths but the building is closed and the grounds are in disrepair. Cows have taken residence on the lawn, content to lay chewing in place. So, back down the valley we go. Nothing to see here.
Today was an alpine adventure with wonderful, hidden delights at every turn. Rainy days are sometimes the best days, especially if you stumble into a paradise you didn’t even know existed just a few hours before.
