After seeing just one photo of Lago di Sorapis, I knew it belonged on our Dolomite bucket list. The lake was a fabulous baby-blue colour, nestled in a rocky basin beneath towering peaks and set in the heart of the Italian Dolomites.

We set off on a stunning morning, the air crisp and the low sun was casting a golden glow through the pine forest.

The lake was reached by a 6km trail that started with an easy path through the woods, before turning into quite an adventure, with chains bolted into the cliff face.

Meltwater crossed the path and formed black ice in the freezing temperatures, turning each step into a gamble. We clung to the chains along the rock face, where icicles glittered overhead like a chandelier strung by Mother Nature. The obstacles continued with an impressive section where the trail was carved into the cliff-face, and a sheer drop plummeted to our side.

Eventually, we arrived at the lake, where a pointy mountain rose above the opaque-blue water — but it looked different from what I’d expected. There had been a cold snap over the past couple of days, so the lake had frozen. I was a little surprised and a tad disappointed, as it didn’t look as blue with a frosty layer of ice, but there’s no denying that it was still a beautiful colour.

We picked a rock to sit on above the lake and gawped at the view while sipping coffee from our flask. It was still quiet as we were some of the first people to arrive. 

A trail circled the entire lake, so we went for a leisurely stroll around it, and to our surprise, the southern side of the lake wasn’t frozen at all — the water there was as blue as Gatorade.

The lake is filled with glacial sediment, which is why it’s so opaque, and there are strict rules that no swimming is allowed to protect the environment. 

Further along the trail, we started getting a new pop of colour thanks to the larch trees. I was really hoping to see them in their full autumnal glory, where they turn as yellow as turmeric, and then a fabulous burnt orange colour. Sadly, we were a couple of weeks early to see them in full swing, but the trail seemed to be a little more autumnal than the others we’d been on, which was a pleasant surprise.

As we walked around the lake, the golden hues intensified, and the forest took on an ombré effect, shifting seamlessly from orange to yellow to green.

The lake is seasonal, filling up from melting glaciers and rain showers in summer, and drying up in autumn before the remaining water freezes over and is covered in snow. While there was still water when we visited, the back area was already starting to dry up, leaving a white, rocky powder behind.

At times, the lake would create tiny pockets of turquoise water, gleaming like diamonds in the rough.

I spent some time photographing the mesmerising patterns that formed as the lake froze around rocks, creating layered lines reminiscent of a topographic map. Little bubbles remained frozen in time within the layers of ice, and some extra cold areas had a misty frost covering the surface.

When we reached the end of the loop walk, we had a bit of a shock — dozens of people had arrived to capture the picturesque sight. The tranquility was replaced with the sound of laughter, chatter, and drones, which weren’t even allowed.

People threw rocks onto the frozen lake, producing an otherworldly sound — a hollow boom followed by a tinkling echo that carried through the valley.

It had been about an hour since we’d stood in that exact spot, and now the lake was mainly in the sun. Usually, I’d aim to see a lake in pure sunshine, as it tends to enhance the colour, but this lake looked milkier and paler in the sun. 

The walk back was a challenge as the ice had melted, creating a slushy mess. More people were hiking up, which meant awkward queuing along the narrow sections and some meltdowns at the vertigo-inducing areas — and I don’t blame them. While this hike didn’t affect my vertigo, I’ve had my fair share of jelly-legged meltdowns.

When we arrived back at our car, we discovered we’d been totally wedged in, with a car’s bumper a mere couple of inches away from the rear of our car. I don’t know how Italians park like this. Do they grease the tyres and slide in sideways, or is it like a scene from Austin Powers trying to navigate the golf cart?

Either way, we were in a sticky situation. I waited outside to help direct Craig, and in his first movement, the car jolted back, leaving a hair’s breadth between our car and the one behind us. Thankfully, with sweat dripping down our foreheads, we managed to slowly shuffle back and forth until we were free.

Italy: 0 Lauren and Craig: 1

On our drive back we stopped at Lago do Dobbiaco, a pristine lake set beside the highway. The water was crystal clear, in fact it looked spring fed with fabulous areas of aqua blue and green. 

We finished the day in a more relaxed manner with a stroll through a quaint village. The architecture was lovely, with pastel-coloured houses, wooden shutters, and blooming flower boxes. Crystal clear rivers cut through the village and cobbled lanes led to cafes. 

Now all that was left to do was head back to the quaint farmhouse where we were staying and go through all the photos that I’d taken.