Hiking in Northern Italy
Stuck in my hotel room on a snowy spring day in Connecticut, I lay sprawled on my bed with my coat still on, panic-scrolling through cheap flights after my travel buddy broke the news that he’d just been fired for getting violent with his boss (feel free to judge my judgment). My flight to Geneva after tour would now be rendered useless, as he would now be kicked out of his seasonal housing before I arrived. All my plans of skiing and eating fondue in Val d'Isère without paying for accommodations had been shattered, and the only thing that mattered now was finding another connecting flight from Barcelona on my minimum-wage, non-union actor budget.
La Dorsale del Triangolo Lariano
I found one to Milan for $30. But all I knew about Milan was what I learned from Spice World, and it didn’t really seem like my style. At least not my I-can’t-afford-to-travel-but-I’m-going-to-do-it-anyway style.
But hey, it’s $30. And if I can figure out how to get free accommodations to make up for the one I just lost in the French Alps, maybe we could swing it. Oh, but my travel buddy spent all his money on booze? And now he’s unemployed? I love a challenge.
And what better way to save money than to camp! In spring! In the mountains! Without proper gear because that’s too expensive!
Behold the stupidest travel decision of my life (well, up to that point at least…I can think of a few others that take the cake). We made it work (barely), had an incredible time, and now I’m here to tell you how we did it and how you can do it better.
Our hiking route along the mountain crests
There are so many hiking routes in Northern Italy, and using Milan as a base is a great option as long as you’re prepared. The hike we ultimately decided on, La Dorsale del Triangolo Lariano, has notoriously difficult uphill climbs, lending itself to striking panoramic views of Lake Como and vast mountain ranges scattered with bucolic villages that swooned my little American heart.
But in all seriousness—do your research and come well-prepared, with the right equipment for the season and an adequate amount of experience hiking on steep inclines and declines (with a full pack if you plan to forgo the guesthouses and sleep under the stars).
As I researched different hiking trails in Northern Italy, I had a surprisingly difficult time finding information in English about specific routes, terrain, where to sleep, and how to get there in the first place. I stumbled across a bare-minimum description of La Dorsale del Triangolo Lariano on Lonely Planet, but the page gives no additional info or links for further reading. After hours of scouring the internet, I found this detailed guide to hiking the 30km route in several stages, with plenty of options for detours and avoiding or embracing the leg-buckling mountain crests.
Taking a much-needed break after a particularly merciless stretch.
If you’re planning a longer backpacking trip like we were and are looking for ways to save money, rest assured that we had no problem finding places to set up our hammock at the end of the day. (I’ve read conflicting information online about whether or not this is legal in Italy, so do your own research to assess the risk.) We weren’t the only people doing it, but we were in the minority, especially considering the time of year.
THIS WAS OUR MISTAKE. Sleeping in a hammock in the mountains in late April was ROUGH. It wouldn't have been so bad if we’d brought a two-person sleeping bag or if we’d splurged on an under-quilt for the hammock. But, you know, starving artists blah blah.
The first night we both suffered—using one sleeping bag on top and one on bottom, wearing several layers of clothes, using our towels and jackets on top for extra warmth—and the second night he slept like a baby in his own sleeping bag, while I nearly (literally) froze to death beside him in mine, bundled up in every outfit I brought, thermal layers included. Never in my life have I been so grateful to hear birds chirping just before sunrise. A great reminder to listen to the manufacturer’s instructions for your down sleeping bag which should never be stored in its compression sack. Hubris. Always my problem.
Late afternoon view on Day 2, just hours before praying for death to overtake me in our freezing cold hammock.
Ah, but the views. The views made everything worth it. Of course, I’m saying that having come out of the situation not only alive, but with all my fingers and toes in tact. It feels ridiculous to say this, but I actually think I suffered mild PTSD in the following weeks of our trip. Any time it dropped below 60°F/16°C , I’d snap angrily at anyone near me and run inside for cover. Not a good look! Moral of the story: pack appropriately. No duh.
Nothing like having the mountains all to ourselves while panic-searching for d a place to set up our hammock before the sun went down.
But back to to the trail. While the majority of La Dorsale takes you far away from civilization, you’ll have plenty of opportunities to stop for either homestyle or decadent Italian meals in guesthouses along the way (our highlight being hand-made ravioli smothered in lemon butter and topped with roasted local veggies). We did have to plan our meals carefully, however, as most of the second part of the route had no restaurants or water sources for many miles at a time. Like any other not-quite-back-country long-distance hike, we packed plenty of snacks and loaded up on espresso whenever the opportunity arose.
Here’s how we turned this Simple 30-km hike into a full three-day Italian nature *~*extravaganza*~*:
Making our way along villages and farmland as we descended the mountain on Day 3
Day 1: Milan to Como to Faggeto Lario
The train ride to Como from Milan’s central station took only 36 minutes, so we had a big, leisurely breakfast at our overpriced hostel in Milan before walking to the train station. Along the way, we stopped at the beautiful Cimitero Monumentale, a big wooded cemetery full of old copper statues and intricate sculptures (and felt much more like an art museum than a graveyard). From the station we could see the famous Vertical Forest Residential Towers—huge apartment buildings adorned with hundreds of trees which seem to burst out of the windows.
One of the many gorgeous facades of the cathedral in Como, Italy
We waved goodbye to the city and soon arrived in Como, a lake town with a very different feel from Milan and worth a trip in its own right. Wealthy tourists and pastel architecture lined the streets as we wandered past farmers markets and into a cathedral, finally making our way around the lake to a cable car which took us to the typical starting point for La Dorsale. At first we felt like wimps for taking the cable car, but as we ascended higher and higher along the mountainside, we understood why all the other hikers were “cheating” as well.
A bit of fine dining before roughing it for the next few days.
Fair warning: the first hour of hiking is not for the faint of heart. Even to get onto the official hiking path pushed our physical limits with our heavy packs and the abrupt change in altitude. The climb to the starting point is done entirely on cement roads which wind through tourist villas and restaurants, and includes a number of detours and stopping points for breathtaking views. We took our time at a couple of these, and decided to stop for an early dinner before making our way out of the villa and into nature. By the time we got onto the trail, we had only four hours of sunlight left and a long climb ahead of us. We took our time on the Dorsale per cresta, marveling at the views after each big incline and cooling down in the breeze (the one perk of spring hiking). As the sun set around 8:30 pm, we found a thick grove of trees on a steep hill along the path, perfect for setting up the hammock and just far enough into the forest not to worry about the technicalities of Italian law.
Deciphering these detours always took longer than intended.
Day 2: Faggeto Lario to Magreglio
After sleeping in and taking our time to pack up camp, we finally got back on the trail at 11am. The inclines on the mountain crest were even more steep this time, and the views easily made up for it. This altitude made it a lot colder, too, and we spent a good chunk of time walking through sporadic hail storms. We stopped for lunch at the only restaurant we saw all day—a small, family-run rifugio with simple dishes and a large map on the wall so we could check out all the possible detours and alternate routes. We opted to stay on the crest and power through to the top, spending one more night in the woods before making our short descent in the morning. Our final hours of sunlight were even better than the evening before, with tons of wildlife, views that looked more like oil paintings than distant mountains, a brilliant sunset and no one else in sight. We set up camp just as the sun went down, hidden from the trail and well-protected from the wind on the slope of a steep hill.
Finally spotting the tip of the triangolo
Day 3: Magreglio to Como
Just a few hours after packing up camp we were able to spot the northern point of the triangolo, where the two forks of Lake Como meet and the routes end. As we made our way down the mountain, the scenery slowly shifted from beech tree forests to pastures of rolling green hills dotted with flowers and humming with (an alarming number of) bees. Its beauty came with a price: long, sharp downhill stretches on cement. By the time we reached Bellagio, I knew I only had about one more mile in me before my knees gave out. Unfortunately, Bellagio is a spacious resort town which most people navigate via car or motorbike, so we still had several kilometers to go from the beautiful, outrageously lavish houses on the outskirts to the center of town, where we could take the ferry back to Como.
After wandering through the town (and getting yelled at for trespassing onto a ticketed entryway to stroll along the lake through a drop-dead gorgeous park), we dragged our feet to the center at last. I have never stuck out like a sore thumb more in my life (which says a lot). We were the ONLY backpackers anywhere to be found. Not only were we surrounded by people who had clearly showered more recently than we had, but they were all the wealthiest people I have ever seen. I GREW UP IN CALIFORNIA PEOPLE. I am used to seeing wealth. This was different. This was the stereotype I never knew truly existed: men in pastel shorts carrying cardigans with one finger slung casually over a shoulder, women with engagement rings bigger than their designer purses, everyone with an air about them I’m struggling to even find words for. Something about their lightness of step screamed that this was another world entirely. Now, that’s not to say I didn’t overhear intimate conversations about financial woes when we sat down at a (surprisingly affordable) outdoor cafe, but let’s just say we got quite a bit of side-eye and a less-than-enthusiastic server.
Back on Day 1 of our hike, when I was more “comfy” and less “haggard”.
We gorged on pizza and gelato, and then braced ourselves for the giant crowd by the ferry. I highly advise you give yourself a solid hour for this endeavor. Especially after the last day of hiking on concrete, standing in the heat and chaos to get tickets was a brutal way to end our serene three-day adventure. Go to the ticket counter as early as you can, even if every part of you is dying to sit down and eat a real meal. The line before we ate lunch was perfectly manageable but blew up by the time we made it back to the counter. I’ve heard that the last ferry of the day is discounted, which is partly why all the tourists flock into one massive crowd late in the afternoon, but our tickets were only 4.80€ for a mid-afternoon in April (they increase in summer).
In case we forgot.
After the beautiful but crowded hour-long ride to Como, we spent another couple of hours exploring before making our way back to the train station. I suddenly realized what day it was as soon as we stepped onto the platform and saw the sheer number of teenagers dressed as if they clearly grew up in a small town and couldn’t wait to get to Milan on a Saturday night. The sunset at the station almost made us turn right back around to the lake, but…well…we hadn’t showered in three days and all these fashionable Italians were just another reminder of how badly we needed to change our clothes.
