The morning broke cool and cloudy. Because the forecast for the rest of the week included rain, we decided to drive up to the top of Mottarone. The smallest mountain in the Alps. The tiniest Alp.

The road was surprisingly busy, and unsurprisingly winding and narrow. Gangs of cyclists clogged the road. Once we got close to the top, a toll gate barred the way until we coughed up $10.00. Once we were in the parklands, people were erratically parking on the roadway. Dozens of people roamed the woods carrying small wicker baskets for mushrooms. Who knew the top of a mountain would be this busy?

Our first destination was Alpyland, an alpine slide built on the top of the mountain. Once safely settled in the small dirt parking lot perched under the trees on the side of the mountain. We walked up a steep path for about eight minutes. The concrete was cracked and the trail looked deserted. It was easy to believe we were lost on the mountain. Honestly, I was beginning to wonder if google maps was pranking us. But eventually we found the launch platform.

We entered the coaster line behind eight women from Spain (probably in their 60’s) who were obviously on a girl’s trip. They laughed and argued and laughed some more. The teenage car operator tried to show them how to operate the cart with hand breaks as they bickered amongst themselves. My Spanish isn’t great, but I recognized the name calling and the “I can’t believe you got me into this you cow!” Comment.

I couldn’t help giggling with them as they reminded me of me when I am traveling with friends. There is something wonderful about strong women enjoying each other’s company. It is powerfully inviting, especially when they so clearly adored each other.

The run was great fun with incredible views. After four minutes, I found myself at the bottom of the course along with all of the women in cars in front of me. The lead car of two women were stuck. They had pulled the handbrake and stopped the car from reaching the return pulley that would transport the car back up the mountain.

The friends began to tell them to push the handles forward to go forward. The woman would push forward for a few seconds and shrug. The next friend asked her to try to wiggle the car forward. She called her friend a name I won’t repeat. This went on for several minutes. The cars were stacking up. Finally a worker came down from the top of the run on a bobsled and pushed them onto the return pulley. Back up the mountain we went.

At the top of the mountain, under an abandoned chair lift, we watched the end of a trekking race. Race walking up the mountain seemed like a good way to ruin an otherwise pleasant hike, but people young and old were finishing to cheers. It was too much work for a cold morning, I opted for coffee by the fire instead.

We entered an alpine hut and ordered cappuccino. A small child toddled around our seats and tried his best to swipe a drink. His mother followed and swooped in before he could accomplish his mission. She had a dog the size of a small horse tied to her waist and paced the length of the room. Bikers entered in the midst of the chaos, ordered shots of sambuca and then left as quickly as they had arrived. We were definitely out of the tourist zone and deep into local entertainment areas.

After all the excitement and the coffee, I needed to use the restroom. To find it, I descended down three flights of stairs. I felt like I was climbing back down the mountain. Once in the restroom, I opened the door to the stall and stepped in, only to have the lights go out immediately. I opened the door, hit the switch and stepped back inside. It was a vault toilet. This was not my first encounter, so I remained nonplussed…until the lights went out again. I apparently reached the limits of coordination …. squatting and fishing my cell phone out of my pack in order to use the flashlight app ….because in the pitch darkness, I didn’t want to fall in the vault toilet. Good times. Nevertheless, I made it work. When in Mottorone….

After that little adventure, we headed back up the trail to the car for a short drive to the village of Alpino. The Lions Club International sponsors a small alpine garden. The plantings were nice, but the view of the lake was spectacular. There was soft classical music from hidden speakers. Cow bells jingled nearby. We sat on a bench and just enjoyed the sights and sounds of peace.

Eventually we had to head back to civilization. There were far fewer cars to dodge on the way down the mountain than there was on the way up. In a small town near Stresa, a woman driving in the opposite direction couldn’t wait for us to pass a narrow section between buildings and we found ourselves at a dead stop with only an inch to spare between us and the building. We tried to stop and back up, but she just kept coming. I held my breath, which obviously made the car small enough to inch through unscathed. I try to do my part.

After that ordeal we needed sustenance. Cava restaurant in Baveno seemed like a good choice. We sat outside by the lake and watched the boats glide by. I ordered fried fish with fried legumes. I found a lot of surprises in my dinner. Fried broccoli, peppers, potatoes, squash, and pumpkin joined my fried fish fillets. But most surprising was the fried minnow. I’m not sure how he got in there.

While we were in Baveno, we strolled up the street to the local church complex. The baptistery was completed in 1100. It held frescoes and artifacts from several centuries. I found it a peaceful place to unwind after a full morning.

Despite just having a large lunch, we decided on one final stop. Gelato…an Italian essential…an afternoon ritual among the tourists. I ordered a small caramel. My husband ordered a waffle cone. It came with four scoops! The man who had driven up to the peak of the tiniest Alps now had to conquer the largest gelato. Thankfully in both cases he was up to the challenge.