Lago di Misurina Favorites

Favorite thing: No sooner had I come upon this wonderland than it suddenly got better. The shouts from the driver, the clanking harness, the clip clop of the hooves on the pavement signalled the arrival of someone's sleigh ride.
Coming from a land of sand and sunshine this was a real turn on for me.

Favorite thing: Lago di Misurina, in my humble opinion, has some of the finest mountain scenery in the world. For someone who hasn't really travelled that much compared to many other VTers, that's a big call but, I'm prepared to stick by it until proven incorrect.

Fondest memory: Within a ten kilometre radius of the lake is just wonderful view upon wonderful view. Then again, when you're in the Dolomites, would you expect anything less?

Favorite thing: Hard to believe there'd be a religious institute in such a magnificent place. Then again, why not?
Situated at the southern end of the lake it's one of the two standout buildings of Misurina.

Fondest memory: It used to be a hotel but now has an entirely different usage.
The Istituto Pio XII, a residential home for asthmatic children located 1,756 m above sea level in the Italian Dolomites, is in an environment free of the most common allergens which makes it ideal for study of allergens and such.
If you are an asthmatic, and you have my deepest sympathies if you are, I can't think of a nicer place to have to spend some time.

Fondest memory: We laughed and kept walking gleefully until we came across another steep path up as in this afternoon heat, it would prove no fun. But as with all things in life, ups and downs seem to be intrinsically linked and there appears no way to avoid the bad if one has had so much good. We were at its apex soon enough and found it had led us precisely where we had hoped it would, back to the final hut on our route. This one was very much open and full of day-trippers so we stayed just above it and watched as the procession of tiny ants meandered around the well-worn routes that emanated from it. We were happy we had not joined them in their endeavors and enjoyed the last segment of our sandwich here too. We finally marched back via the most tourist-laden path in the park and as all good soldiers do, we smiled knowingly and hopefully not too smugly. Back at the car, we took off our boots, and happily drove away. It seems that one day can be enough to explore the Tre Cime. At least when you get up early enough to beat the rest of the birds.

Fondest memory: All good things come to an end and with some clouds encroaching we opted to move on, as there was still a fair amount of hiking to do to get back to the car park. After a steep descent that followed in our streaker’s footsteps, we found ourselves in a very hot, dry, dusty valley. Perhaps our friend had been right in stripping off to his underwear after all! We finally spotted a marmot and the furry mountain rodent scampered effortlessly about the rocks. Later another one startled us with his shrill shriek as we kissed in nature’s splendor.

Fondest memory: We made our way to the next hut and came across the only other person we saw that day, a man clad only in his underwear and small backpack, obviously enjoying the good weather and solitude. He didn’t seem startled or ashamed and merely kept hiking past us. We laughed at the sight of him as we went to investigate the oasis he had just come from. It was a rustic hut in a fabulous setting and we decided to have another segment of our sandwich and as our predecessor had done, we enjoyed the warm sun and wind protected hot spot.

Fondest memory: Soon we found ourselves looking up a huge snow bank where the path obviously would normally lead and having come too far to turn around made our way slowly up the steep incline. The combination of the glare off the glistening snow and the energy expenditure had us sweating in no time. We were happy to get to the top and look both back from whence we came and forward to yet another peak filled valley.

Fondest memory: It would have been easy to spend the whole day at the hut but it was just a matter of time before those who wake at a civilized hour crowded the place. It would also have been easy to return via the normal short route around the massif but I had read about a traverse of a truly lunar landscape so we walked in that direction and surely away from the crowds in so doing. It was indeed a desolate trail that passed one beautiful lake, walking through one snowy patch after another, always on the lookout for marmots that would normally inhabit such rocky terrain.