La Dolce Prelude – The Perfect Teaser (Aug 19 - 23)
Kicking off in cinematic style with a private Riva speedboat across sparkling Lake Como and flawless Milanese tartare, the journey swept us by scenic train to mist-kissed Zermatt and the teasing Matterhorn, plunged us into glowing blue ice caves, flirted with a fog-blocked paraglide, then lifted us at dawn in a rainbow hot-air balloon over the entire Mont Blanc massif and distant Toblerone peak—capping the prelude with ancient Roman arches in Aosta and the electric anticipation of meeting our Tour du Mont Blanc crew in bustling Chamonix. Five perfect days that turned a simple warm-up into an unforgettable love affair with the Alps.
Matterhorn - The Toblerone Peak
Mont Blanc Massif from the Hot Air Balloon
With the Balloon After We safely landed
Anxiously waiting for the fog to clear. It never did....
The Beautiful Lake Como
Bird's Eye View of Aosta Old Town
Before It All Begins
Ever since our last visit to Turkey in 2019, we’ve been exploring other corners of the world and somehow forgot about the continent. Partly, it was because we thought we’d covered Europe extensively; partly, because visiting piazzas and cathedrals felt, at times, repetitive. Yet, thanks to the Tour du Mont Blanc (TMB), we were granted the opportunity to see Europe in a completely new way—on foot, over mountains, through valleys, and across three countries.
The TMB has grown in popularity over the last decade: trekkers start from Chamonix in France and traverse France, Italy, and Switzerland, eventually looping back to Chamonix. The trek spans roughly 120 km over 10 days. While we’ve hiked in Nepal, Taiwan, the U.S., and New Zealand, Europe had remained unexplored in this way. For our first European trek, we chose the G Adventures tour—a decision that would transform the way we experienced the Alps.
Day 1: Aug 19th (Milan & Lake Como)
We decided to begin in Milan, easing into the trip before the TMB officially started on the 23rd. Milan made sense logistically—it was the easiest gateway from Taiwan via Istanbul—and we hadn’t set foot here in 10 years. Instead of revisiting the Duomo, we opted for Lake Como, just a 40-minute train ride away.
Arriving at Como San Giovanni station, we made our way to the ferry terminal, only to discover that all express ferries to Bellagio were fully booked. Scanning the crowd, hoping for a solution, a young man approached and offered a private ride on a classic Riva Aquarama. After some gentle haggling, we agreed, and soon we were gliding over the lake, the wooden boat gleaming under the sun, water spraying lightly over the sides.
The ride was cinematic, weaving past villas and sparkling waters, including Richard Branson’s lavish compound and George Clooney’s famous lakeside home—rumored, our captain said, to occasionally be piloted by Clooney himself. After an hour and a half, we reached Bellagio, a town as perfect as it looks in films like Cinema Paradiso or Once Upon a Time in America. Cobblestone streets, fountains, and flower-lined paths led us to the cathedral perched at the top. After exploring, we returned on the Riva, the lake glittering in the approaching clouds.
Dinner in Milan at Il Tavolino, recommended by our hotel, rounded out the day. The beef tartare was exquisite, a gentle reminder that Italy always delivers, no matter how long it’s been since your last visit. Day 1 closed with that familiar Italian warmth: a rediscovery of place, flavor, and curiosity.
Day 2: Aug 20th (Milan to Zermatt)
Zermatt, nestled beneath the iconic Matterhorn, had not been on our original itinerary. Yet something about the “Toblerone peak” drew us in—a perfect addition to our alpine adventures. The train from Milan took us from bustling cityscapes into tranquil countryside, fields rolling past, rivers sparkling, and mountains gradually appearing on the horizon.
Our journey slowed briefly near Domodossola, where Italian authorities inspected passengers’ belongings, delaying us long enough to miss our connection to Zermatt. By the time we finally arrived, the town’s charm was undeniable. Swiss chalets lined tidy streets, clouds hung low over the valley, and the Matterhorn hid in the mist, teasing us with its promise.
Despite gloomy weather, we headed straight to the Gornergrat Bahn. The scenic train wound steeply upward, revealing glimpses of glaciers and snow-tipped peaks through breaks in the clouds. At the station, the Gorner Glacier stretched below like a giant silver serpent. Though mostly shrouded, the wind and cold added to the sense of awe, reminding us that the Alps command respect.
Later, a short hike to Riffelsee allowed us to enjoy a quiet, reflective stroll—though without the Matterhorn’s reflection, the lake felt like a whispered promise rather than a grand reveal. The day ended with a stroll through Zermatt’s historic streets, cobblestones echoing the quiet of a town suspended in time, and dinner at Grampi’s, where Italian flavors grounded us back in the simple joys of good food.
Day 3: Aug 21st (Zermatt)
On our second day in Zermatt, the weather teased us. The Matterhorn remained elusive, peeking briefly through fog and clouds. Our goal was the Matterhorn Glacier Paradise, accessed by a series of cable cars ascending to Klein Matterhorn. The ride itself felt like moving through a painting: forests below, cliffs beside us, and suddenly, snow and rock dominating every angle.
At the top, we explored an ice cave carved beneath the glacier. The walls glowed a deep blue, sculpted into tunnels with animal statues, slides, and even scientific exhibits—a surreal combination of play and history. Stepping onto the viewing deck, thick snow crunched underfoot as we glimpsed peaks piercing the clouds.
The descent brought us through sudden showers and patches of sunlight, and we found ourselves ducking into the Zermatt Museum to escape the rain. Unexpectedly, it consumed our afternoon. Exhibits recreated 19th-century Zermatt, detailing early mountaineering triumphs and tragedies, including the first ascent of the Matterhorn. The stories of human endurance and the raw power of nature left us humbled. Dinner at Casa Mia rounded off the day—a comforting Italian feast, rich and familiar after the highs and chills of the Alps.
Day 4: Aug 22nd (Zermatt to Aosta)
Sunshine broke through on our third morning, reviving the long-delayed dream of paragliding. The past two days had teased us with storms and stubborn cloud cover, but today the skies finally hinted at cooperation. Meeting Michael, our instructor, we took the short hike up toward the take-off point near Riffelberg.
As we climbed, the world around us glowed. The Matterhorn stood in full command of the horizon, its iconic silhouette carved sharply against a sky washed in soft morning gold. Light spilled over its ridges like molten honey, revealing textures and shadows invisible at any other hour. Monte Rosa—broad, solemn, and snow-crowned—caught the light differently: wide strokes of rose-gold brushed across its glaciers, giving the massif an otherworldly stillness. For a few minutes, the entire landscape felt suspended, as if the mountains themselves were holding their breath.
Unfortunately, the fog that had lingered stubbornly beneath us refused to lift. Hours passed in a cycle of hope and hesitation. Eventually, the call was made—the flight would have to be postponed yet again. Disappointing, yes, but there was a strange calm that followed. Some regrets, I realized, are blessings in disguise; the mountains had already given us something unforgettable.
We boarded the train toward Geneva, eventually transferring onward to Aosta, Italy. The scenery shifted with cinematic grace: jagged alpine cliffs softened into lush green valleys, dotted with stone villages that seemed untouched by time.
Our stay in Aosta began at the Duca d’Aosta Hotel, steps from an ancient Roman piazza glowing with late-afternoon warmth. Dinner at La Grenette became its own small journey—polenta enriched with silky fontina cheese, raw venison infused with delicate floral notes, and a comforting hum of local chatter filling the room.
Later, wandering beneath the lights of Porta Praetoria, the ancient Roman gateway illuminated in soft amber, we felt the quiet convergence of the day—mountains, history, and food intertwining. It was a gentle, reflective ending, a perfect prelude to the hot air balloon adventure waiting for us the next morning.
Day 5: Aug 23rd (Aosta & Chamonix)
With moonlight shimmering above us, we hopped into the taxi and headed to the meeting spot for the eagerly anticipated hot air balloon ride. Interestingly, Aosta wasn't initially on our travel itinerary, as I thought the small city might be somewhat redundant, given that we'd be seeing the same mountains while hiking. However, discovering the hot air balloon tour changed my mind instantly, as experiencing the world from above offers a unique perspective.
We arrived at the meeting point just as the sun rose, greeted by a large deflated rainbow-colored balloon as the staff prepared for our flight. As the hot flames inflated the balloon, our excitement soared. Once inside the wooden basket, the flames propelled us upward, and off we went! As we ascended into the blue sky, the sunlight bathed the Mont Blanc mountain range and other peaks. The snow-covered peaks reflected the golden sunlight like mirrors. The pilot skillfully maneuvered the balloon, allowing us to enjoy a 360-degree view of the landscape, which resembled a vast canvas dotted with green and yellow. The peaks and hills appeared as if they were pyramids crafted by the creator. Suspended at around 2600 meters, we not only admired the majestic Mont Blanc but also glimpsed the distant Matterhorn. Additionally, the Grand Paradiso National Park was like the icing on the cake, with forests and hills draping the peaks like finely sewn garments. As we landed on the pasture and watched the balloon slowly deflate, we realized the extraordinary experience we had just completed.
After our magical flight, we returned to old Aosta town and resumed our exploration from the previous day. The ancient Roman ruins felt like time capsules from a bygone era, sparking imaginations of the great discussions in the cryptoporticus and the epics displayed at the theater. I wondered, “Did travelers of the past feel the same awe when they first beheld these mountains?” After lunch, we boarded the bus to Chamonix, the starting point of our grand Tour Du Montblanc. Upon arriving, we were immediately enveloped in Chamonix's outdoor atmosphere, with paragliders, bikers, hikers, and climbers—all finding their place. After a brief rest at the hotel, we met the fellow hikers we'd be sharing bunks with for the next 10 days and, more importantly, our guide for the epic journey.
Our group consisted of 12 people, with only three of us being men. Sonia, our highly experienced Italian guide, had explored almost all the mountains and trails in Europe. We sat down to discuss the trek's logistics and necessary information, then enjoyed our first group icebreaker dinner and retired early, eagerly anticipating our grand adventure. As I lay in bed, sleep eluded me due to the excitement of hiking in Europe. I couldn't wait to embark on this once-in-a-lifetime adventure!