At dusk and dawn, if you’re lucky, in the Dolomites you can experience a phenomenon that’s unique. As the light is in its in-between period, passing through its liminal space from day to night, the mountains start to glow a pink-red colour. The phenomenon, which has its own name – enrosadira – is one of the many things that are special about this part of the world.
The mountains here feel different from anywhere else. They’re jagged and pointy, screaming out into the air. You both do and don’t have time to contemplate the majesty around you as you cycle through this landscape; a part of the world less than three hours from Venice but as isolated as it is possible to be in the centre of Europe. It’s a UNESCO World Heritage Site, but unlike my closest one at home – Bath – it is wholly based on the beauty of the natural landscape.
I came to the very north-east of Italy, the land of that not-often-spoken dialect Ladin, in search of some of the toughest but dreamiest roads to cycle on, to grind my way up. Trust me, there was a lot of grinding to be done. The Giro d’Italia often passes through this way in its reliably brutal final week, but while the names might be recognisable – Gardena, Sella, Pordoi or Giau – these are further down the bucket list than the
