After his race, it was easier for TJ to return home via Milan, so we decided to spend the rest of the weekend lazing in Italy. We didn't want to recuperate in Milan itself, so I looked at cities along the train routes there and picked the Piedmont town of Domodossola. To get there we had to take the Mont-Blanc Express (left), whose observatory windows provided great views of the steep slopes the train clung to as it chugged along (right).
In Martigny, we had to change trains, so we decided to take a short break to explore the French city, which had a surprisingly Italian feel because of its Roman ruins. Without the altitude of Chamonix, the sun was quite searing, so when we passed by the tepidarium, I fleetingly wished it were still in operation (left). At the amphitheater, I found a spot in the shade while TJ ventured into the center of the gladiator circle (right).
Next door to the arena that once housed lions now sits the Musée et Chiens du Saint Bernard. I happened to spy a few of the beasts housed there, including Barry, named after a famous mountain dog (left). Another guardian of the mountain, Chateau de la Batiaz, can be spied from many spots downtown, high on its outpost above the city (right).
Before boarding the train for the second leg of our trip, we got off our feet for a snack at Cafe du Commerce. Through the window from the patio, we watched the one-woman proprietor prepare our meat and cheese tasting board in a small kitchen (left). If not for the branded coasters and glasses, I could've thought we were escaping the heat in the back yard of someone's home (right).
The homey atmosphere continued once we found our hotel in Domodossola. We did have to stop for directions once, but only because our hotel, the Locanda Piemonte da Sciolla, was tucked away in a hidden little plaza, where at night it seats guests of its acclaimed restaurant (left). Our room overlooked the plaza, and when we arrived, daily life was still going on in Domodossola, with our neighbors using a pulley system to lift groceries up to their third-story home (right).
Our little plaza, Piazza Convenzione, was just a narrow walkway from the main square of the old city, Piazza del Mercato. While wandering around the old city, we stumbled upon Osteria Via Briona, which was offering some salty snacks during apertivo hour (left). From there, our explorations spiraled out from the center, but as night set in, we ended up back in the main square, for a nightcap of some Birrificio Balabiòtt craft beer at Sali e Pistacchi; TJ tried the Rabelott IPA, while I had the Sciura amber ale (right).
The next morning, we started our day with breakfast at the hotel, which had a spread bigger than I have ever seen for an included meal: local cheese, warm bread, cured meat, fresh fruit, and homemade pastry (top left). Perhaps some of the ingredients were bought from stands set up right outside the hotel's front door (top right). The Saturday market spread throughout the streets, old and new, of the city, with different sections focusing on different goods, from housewares to haberdashery (bottom).
We wound through the market crowds on our way to Riserva Speciale Sacro Monte, a national park that contains the Sacro Monte Calvario, one of nine "sacred mountains" in the Piedmont and Lombardy regions listed on the UNESCO World Heritage List. The 17th-century sanctuary consists of a series of chapels dedicated to the 14 stations of the cross along a path winding up Mattarella Hill (left). At the top, through the ruins of the medieval Mattarella castle, one gets a stunning of view of the town within its mountain valley (right).
After a slow walk back down due to TJ's overworked knees, we found a seat at Nuova Bar del Corso, where we joined the locals in having some late-afternoon refreshment (left). We had planned to take off for Milan already, but we couldn't resist one last bit of leisure, with the omnipresent Aperol spritz, at a table on the bricks of the Piazza del Mercato at the entrance to Via Briona (right).
I rode with TJ to Garibaldi station in Milan, where I dropped him off for his train to the airport, then I doubled back to Domodossola for one more night in Italy before I headed home myself. I treated myself to a romantic dinner for one at Trattoria la Motta, starting with an appetizer of ricotta with river trout essence (left). My main dish of the regional version of gnocchi was served up with a side of Spanish guitar (right). My meal ended with a pineapple sorbet, which left a pleasant taste in my mouth, just like Italy always does.
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