Cortina d'Ampezzo

Ride back down and walk 12 minutes east along Via Marconi — downhill the whole way, with the slate-roofed bell tower rising over the rooftops as your guide. The 18th-century Basilica anchors Cortina's heart, and the freestanding 70-metre campanile beside it (1858) is the tallest bell tower in the Dolomites, designed so its bells could ring across the entire valley.

Tip: The campanile chimes on the hour — time your photo for 12:00 from the corner of Largo delle Poste, where Tofana di Mezzo lines up directly behind the spire. It is the only spot in town where you frame both the peak you just stood on and Cortina's icon in one shot.

Two doors east of the Basilica on Largo delle Poste — under a minute on foot. Run by the Alverà family since 1956, this is where Cortina locals refuel between morning runs and afternoon strolls. Order a panino with Alto Adige speck and aged Asiago (8 EUR) and split a krapfen, the cream-filled Tyrolean doughnut that is the house specialty (4 EUR), eaten standing at the marble counter the way the regulars do.

Tip: Pay first at the cassa, then take the receipt to the bar — that is how locals jump the line. The seated terrace out front adds a 2 EUR cover charge per person and slows your service by 15 minutes; the standing counter is free and twice as fast.

Step out the door onto the corso — Cortina's traffic-free spine, lined with century-old hotels, jewelers, and the bronze 1956 Olympic flame monument at Largo delle Poste. Walk its full length north, then drop down to the Sentiero del Boite, a flat riverside path along the milky-blue Boite River where the limestone walls of Pomagagnon fill the eastern sky and the afternoon sun lights the Tofane behind you.

Tip: The shop windows here are pricier than Milan's Quadrilatero — but Co.Bi. on Corso Italia 90 sells the original ceramic Bombardino mug (12 EUR) used in every rifugio. Better souvenir than any keychain, and you will actually use it once you are back home in winter.

Follow the Boite path 10 minutes south to the Faloria cable car base — look for the squat red gondolas climbing the spruce slope across the river. The eight-minute ride lifts you from 1,224 m to 2,123 m on the opposite side of the valley, and from Rifugio Faloria's terrace the entire western horizon snaps into one frame: Tofane, Cristallo, and Pomagagnon together. The same peaks you stood on this morning, seen from the angle every Cortina postcard uses.

Tip: Late-afternoon light hits the Tofane head-on and turns the limestone pink — the alpine 'enrosadira' glow Italians cross continents for. Order a Bombardino at the rifugio bar (8 EUR), then walk the easy 15-minute ridge trail east toward Tondi for the unobstructed panoramic angle without the terrace crowd in your shot.

Take the cable car back down (last summer run is typically 17:30 — confirm at the base in the morning), then walk 10 minutes north through Corso Italia to Largo delle Poste 13. A Cortina mainstay since the 1960s, the dining room sits a stone's throw from the Basilica and has fed locals, ski racers, and visiting royalty for three generations. Order the casunziei all'ampezzana (red-beet ravioli with browned butter, poppy seeds, and smoked ricotta, 18 EUR) and the cervo in salmì (slow-braised venison with polenta taragna, 26 EUR) — both pure Ladin mountain cooking you will not find south of the Alps.

Tip: Reserve before 14:00 if you want any seating after 19:30 — the room has only 12 tables and turns over once an evening. And ignore the chalkboard 'Dolomiti tasting menus' propped outside the tourist restaurants near the cable car bases: same dishes, doubled prices, and the giveaway is pre-cooked beet pasta dyed an unnatural fuchsia instead of the deep earthy red of the real thing.

Walk 200 meters from the cable car top station along the wooden plank trail to a discreet opening in the limestone — the entrance to the actual WWI Italian assault tunnel, hand-cut for 1.1km through the mountain in 1917 to plant 33 tons of explosives beneath the Austrian position above. You descend by steel rungs and ladders through eight levels of original galleries before emerging near Forcella Travenanzes with the Tofane facing you head-on. Doing it now, with full morning energy, means you tackle the 700+ rungs before lunch rather than after.

Tip: Rent a helmet and headlamp at the top station kiosk for 5 euros — mandatory, and not all sections are lit. Wear ankle-supporting boots and bring gloves; the steel handrails stay icy even in July. Allow 90 minutes one-way and arrange to return via the Falzarego-side chairlift back up rather than retracing — the tunnel is one-directional in spirit.

Ride the small Lagazuoi chairlift back up from the tunnel exit to the rifugio terrace — the most cinematic lunch spot in the Dolomites, perched right on the cliff edge at 2752m with the Marmolada glacier filling the southern horizon. Order the casunziei all'ampezzana (beetroot-stuffed half-moon ravioli with poppy seeds and smoked ricotta, 16 euros) — the dish that defines this valley — and the venison polenta (18 euros) from Cadore deer hunted within sight of your table. Eating here at midday means the sun is full on the Marmolada opposite, and the view becomes the meal.

Tip: Reserve a terrace table two to three days ahead via rifugiolagazuoi.com — without one you eat indoors and miss the entire point. Budget 35-45 euros for primo + glass of Lagrein + coffee. Skip dessert here; the panna cotta is honest but the cheese cellar tour (free, ask the waiter) is the real finale.

Cable car back down to Falzarego, then a 10-minute shuttle hop east to Bai de Dones, where the Cinque Torri chairlift carries you in eight minutes up to Rifugio Scoiattoli at 2255m. Five massive limestone spires rise straight out of the alpine meadow — the Dolomites in their most postcard form, and the rock that taught Reinhold Messner to climb. In afternoon light the towers glow orange against the Tofane behind them, and the gentler terrain rewards legs already taxed by the morning tunnel.

Tip: Walk the circular trail (sentiero 439) around the base counterclockwise — the towers stay lit from the right the entire loop, which matters for photos. Climbers will be active on the south walls; binoculars from Rifugio Scoiattoli are loaned free at the bar. The last descending chairlift leaves at 17:00 sharp — set a phone alarm at 16:40.

From Rifugio Scoiattoli, walk 10 minutes south along the marked path 440 — you cross open meadow with the towers always at your right shoulder — to the open-air museum: a fully reconstructed Italian front-line sector with restored trenches, observation posts, gun emplacements and underground barracks dug into the rock. Coming at this hour means the late-afternoon shadows fall directly into the trenches the way Italian sentries would have seen them at sundown a century ago. Free, unstaffed, just respect.

Tip: Pick up the free trail map at Rifugio Scoiattoli before you walk down — four distinct sectors (Italian command post, frontline trench, barracks, observation deck) and without the map you'll miss half. By 16:00 the morning tour buses are long gone and you'll often have the whole site to yourself. Pitfall warning: the 'panorama prints with the towers' sold cheap along Corso Italia are mass-produced knock-offs — for the genuine work buy directly from photographer Diego Gaspari Bandion's small shop near Largo Poste, his name and signature on every print.

Last chairlift down, shuttle back to Cortina, then 3km east to Località Alverà where chef Riccardo Gaspari's Michelin-starred SanBrite occupies a working dairy farm — every cheese, cured meat and herb on your plate comes from within walking distance of the kitchen. The name means 'holy alpine pasture' in Ladin, and the 6-course mountain tasting menu (95 euros) is the unrepeatable Cortina dinner. The smoked-trout tartare from the farm's own stream and the year-aged Malga Federa cheese are the dishes you'll still be describing on the plane home.

Tip: Reserve two weeks ahead via sanbrite.it — only 30 covers and the kitchen closes at 21:30. Take the wine pairing (45 euros, all Alto Adige and Veneto) rather than ordering by the glass; sommelier Ludovica is the chef's wife and pairs with intent. Ask before sitting for the cheese-cellar tour — five minutes underground that reframe everything you then eat.