We had blue skies for most of our time in the Dolomites, but one night heavy rain fell. It stopped just as we woke up, leaving low-lying clouds drifting through the valley. But up on the high peaks was snow, and that’s where we were heading. 

A journey north-east led us up to Val di Funes, an incredibly scenic valley with vibrant green pastures scattered with grazing cows, traditional farmhouses, quaint churches and a jagged mountain backdrop. 

We planned to hike the Adolf Munkel Trail, and we happened to be the first people on the trail, creating fresh prints in the dusting of snow. The further we walked, the thicker the snow became, with heavy clumps occasionally plummeting down from the tall pine trees. 

We wound our way uphill, crossing snow-covered meadows and thick forest until we reached Geisleralm – one of the Dolomites most famous rifugios. The setting looked like a green screen with the jagged Odle peaks rising and falling like a heartbeat on a hospital monitor.

Before we stopped for a refreshment, we headed up a small hill which was scattered with various benches to sit and enjoy the view. But they weren’t just standard benches, they were lounging ones, built on poles so they spun around, offering 360° views and a nostalgic feeling like we were kids in a playground. 

The rifugio was quite expensive, so we opted to visit a smaller one further down the path. It had a lovely decking with an uninterrupted view of the mountains so we wiped the snow off the chairs and got comfortable. 

I wanted to try the local speciality called Kaiserschmarrn, which is like a fluffy pancake that’s been chopped up and sprinkled with a good dose of icing sugar. It was a little gooey in areas, like the batter wasn’t fully cooked, but it still had a delicious flavour. 

The weather was constantly changing while we sat on the terrace. One moment we’d be basking in high alpine sunshine, the next minute a wave of wind and snow flurries would sweep in. 

We finished our exploration in Val di Funes by doing a walk across the pastures and up some stairs to one of the Dolomites’ most photographed sights. It was a church, set on a lush green slope with the sawtooth peaks rising behind. I couldn’t believe what a picture-perfect sight it was – it actually looked like the photos I’d seen in brochures. 

The church itself was an interesting little stop on the walk, and I particularly liked the graveyard which was built in one of the most scenic locations in the world. What struck me as unusual was that each headstone included a photograph alongside the name. Some had several photos, which I assumed marked family plots. Seeing photos rather than just names made the place feel far more personal and intimate than a traditional cemetery.

We were in no rush to get back, so we drove slowly back down the valley, past cows with big bells dangling around their necks, and more quaint churches – it was another 10 out of 10 day in the Dolomites. 

The following day it was time to visit Seceda, an awe-inspiring knife-edge ridgeline. Its popularity has made the cable car leading up to it one of the most expensive in the Dolomites, at €52 for the return journey, which was out of our budget. After doing some research, I discovered a cheaper option: we could take the Col Raiser cable car one way for €21 and were happy to walk back down. 

The cable car didn’t take us right up to the ridge, but it saved us a big chunk of elevation gain, and from the station we began an incredibly scenic loop walk.

The snow that fell two nights before was still blanketing the floor, and the higher we climbed the more it accumulated. Wooden cabins were scattered across the hillsides – I still don’t know what they’re used for, but they bring a lot of charm to the landscape. Maybe they’re summer holiday homes, or a place to store equipment when farming animals on the summer pastures? 

There were also rifugios along the path, offering a place to stay or a nice hot meal – but we had to burn off a few more calories before we could justify stopping at one. 

The final climb up to the ridge was anticlimactic as we arrived at the top of the main cable car station where hundreds of tourists had gathered. We’d expected that though, so it was fine and we continued on the main track toward the notorious ridge. 

Lots of images of Seceda show it in summer, with one side featuring lush green slopes and blooming wildflowers, while the other is a sheer, rock wall. It’s a fabulous contrast of colour, but we were seeing it in rather different conditions. 

Instead of vibrant green grass, we had a mix of snow and golden yellow grass, and the sun was struggling to poke out from behind the clouds so overall I’d have to say it was a little less impressive than I’d expected. But that seems a bit harsh because it really was a phenomenal ridge. 

https://flic.kr/p/2rDGZHh

Local farmers own the land on the mountain and they’ve finally had enough of all the tourists. I think it began with a little protest, briefly erecting a turnstile on the mountain track, requiring €5 to pass through. 

I guess they quickly realised they were on their way to being millionaires because there are reports of up to 8000 people visiting on a single day – not all of them follow the trail towards the ridge, but many do. 

Let’s say half the people continue beyond the first viewpoint and have to pass through the turnstile, that’s an eye-watering €20,000 in one day.

There were different vantage points along the way, until we stood right below the start of the wild ridge, looking up in awe. The ground to our left plummeted down and the ridge ahead looked like a dragon’s back. 

Once we’d sufficiently soaked in the unique landscape, it was time to continue our loop walk. The trail turned from slippery ice and snow to sloppy mud. Everyone we passed looked like they were walking with bricks attached to their feet, and then we spotted a couple in sandals and winced at what they had ahead of them. 

As we wound our way downhill, we passed a tiny, humble rifugio offering food and drinks. It seemed like an idyllic place to stop so we took a seat on the terrace. Considering it was a remote cabin on the side of a mountain, we were pretty surprised when the waiter took our order on an electric device, sending it directly to the kitchen. How can these little establishments be so far advanced compared to British eateries?

It was a little chilly outside so we sat on blankets, enjoying our million-dollar view while eating a delicious cheese platter and some red wine, which only cost €3 a glass. The rifugio even had a few donkeys, I think just for novelty factor, but they were lovely and friendly. 

The walk back down was a breeze, considering we were losing about 1000m in elevation. But we were kept entertained by the mountain views and horses grazing beneath the peaks. 

While lush green slopes on Seceda might have impressed me more, I’m very grateful to have seen the area covered in snow.