We are up at dawn. This is the first real adventure with my extended family. My brother drives us over the mountain in his rental car. I am now in the backseat. No longer the driver or the navigator, I am left to look out the side window. I try not to be a backseat driver, warning of electronic speed traps and urging him to stay on his side of the tiny roads. I fail and give unsolicited advice much to often.

We take the autostrada. The toll road has no roundabouts or towns to navigate. It is quick and also expensive (at least compared to tolls in the U.S.). But we arrive much faster and have more time to spend sightseeing.

We stop in Aosta. My brother and I bicker about where to park. My husband and sister in laws look on with amusement. They will be amused a lot. Two planners with a long history of sibling interaction make good travel companions.

We walk the old streets past remnants of Roman roads, walls and towers. It is Sunday afternoon and it seems the whole town is out for a stroll. Dogs have the right of way, with owners following behind. Alpine hats with long feathers and St. Bernards add local color.

We find ourselves in the basilica of St. John just before a baptism ceremony. While the church is open to visitors, it felt a bit like crashing a wedding. We head down into the crypt only to discover a woman sitting alone in the dark. Now we are funeral crashers.

Outside we notice the entrance to the Roman cryptoporticus tunnels. These long underground corridors ran under the ancient Roman temple complex and probably served as store rooms and military facilities (while also providing support for the above ground structures.)

Like amateur archeologists, we head across town to a 4th century Christian church (San Lorenzo) that had been excavated. The ruins, in the shape of the cross, housed the bodies of at least three early bishops. I was fascinated by belt buckles, rings, and other artifacts. When you see “antiquities”, you realize modern life is not all that advanced. Much of what we have hasn’t changed all that much.

We stop for pizza. Few people at the pizzaria speak English. My sister in law can’t have dairy in this country of fresh cheese. She orders spaghetti which is delivered full of Parmesan. She orders a drink and receives a different variant (in fairness when the waiter came back to the table…we thought to check the order…she was trying to tell us they didn’t have the right ingredients. My language skills let me know she was asking about the drink order but not the details.). My pizza was good, with lots of fresh mozzarella. I feel sad for my sister-in-law, but not bad enough to gloat.

The Aosta valley has over 100 castles. We leave the town of Aosta and took local roads down the valley to get closer to them. We stopped in Bard. Fort de Bard is an imposing castle that has been guarding the valley for centuries. It stopped Napoleon’s army during their invasion from Austria. Eventually, as borders have become fluid, it turned into a tourist attraction.

A combination of funiculars and lifts take you to the top of the mountain fortress. The views of the river and surrounding valley are breathtaking. The fort itself has been repurposed for a series of museums, event spaces, and cultural centers. Art Galleries, playgrounds, shops, restaurants, and museums all peacefully coexist for visitors and locals alike.

We laugh our way through galleries of modern art, alpine history, comic book heroes, marvel movie characters, and military history. We take our pictures in the don jon/ dungeon. We sit in replicas of ski trams, country kitchens and school rooms to take funny photos.

All the while, we wind further down the mountain. Eventually, at valley floor, we find ourselves in a medieval village. I couldn’t tell where we parked but I followed my siblings who were following signs. We sampled bread and purchased some to take home. We took even more pictures.

Most of all we enjoyed just being together. There is something so comforting about laughing with people you have known all your life. I don’t see my family often enough, so this time is precious to me. We are missing my youngest brother who was unable to come. He is not here physically, but is in my heart (and we love that my awesome sister in law is here to represent).

At the end of a long day, we stop in Arona for food. We pick a lovely restaurant at the lakefront. My pasta arrives as a work of art. The walnut emulsion….. no words. Nothing could be better…..

Except maybe the dessert…..