In Italy we do one thing: the Dolomites, on foot, from hut to hut. The range is in the far north-east, closer to Innsbruck than to Rome, and the valleys speak Italian, German and Ladin. The paths are old and well marked, the huts are family houses with proper kitchens, and the rock turns pink for ten minutes at the end of a clear day.

The season is short. The high passes hold snow into June and the huts close in early October. September is the month we like most: settled weather, larch beginning to turn and room at the tables. Marco has guided here for twenty-six years and still carries the coffee pot to the top of every pass.