I stayed at a beautiful Italian hotel surrounded by mountains – but one thing surprised me | Travel News | Travel

I remember being on my way to Gatwick Airport feeling as though I was casually commuting to work.

For some reason, the reality of going away never usually kicks in for me until I’m actually inside the airport. It’s only when I’m surrounded by departure boards, suitcases and people heading off in every direction that I think: right, I’m actually going somewhere.

This time, somewhere was South Tyrol in northern Italy.

I was heading to Naturhotel Lüsnerhof for two nights, a wellness and hiking hotel in the Lüsen Valley, at the gateway to the Dolomites.

My flight from Gatwick to Bolzano was with SkyAlps, an airline I wasn’t familiar with. I’m used to seeing names such as British Airways, easyJet or Virgin Atlantic on my boarding pass, so I’ll admit an unfamiliar airline can make me a little apprehensive.

It was tiny compared with the aircraft I’m normally used to, almost with the feel of a little private jet.

Once on board, however, any apprehension quickly disappeared. The aircraft was comfortable, the cabin crew were attentive and several spoke multiple languages. I also liked the small touch of being served snacks connected to the destination.

Around two hours later, I found myself glued to the window as we descended towards Bolzano, watching the mountains getting closer.

The airport itself was another surprise – it was tiny.

After Gatwick, everything suddenly felt very intimate.

A driver collected me for the journey to Lüsnerhof, which took at least an hour.

Normally, a transfer that long is something I want to get through. This time, I spent most of it staring out of the window.

The further we travelled, the greener everything became. Mountains rose around us and houses appeared ridiculously high on the slopes. I kept looking at the winding roads leading towards them and wondering: how do people actually get home?

Then Lüsnerhof appeared.

My immediate thought was that it looked even better in person.

Set around 1,100 metres above sea level, fresh flowers spilled from balconies and the surrounding landscape filled the backdrop, while guests returned on bikes.

Check-in was warm and straightforward, although the wooden, almost silent corridors initially felt slightly eerie.

It reminded me of those films where everything is almost too serene and you’re waiting for something to happen.

Maybe I just watch too many films.

I’m used to a busy city, a chaotic working week and constant chatter. Here, everything was the opposite. It took me a few hours to stop noticing the silence and relax into it.

My room was spacious and cosy, with plenty of wood and a balcony overlooking the landscape. The bathroom had a bathtub looking through towards the bedroom and a walk-in shower with branch-like detailing.

My favourite detail was far less glamorous.

The duvet wasn’t tucked impossibly tightly beneath the mattress, meaning I didn’t have to spend five minutes wrestling with hotel sheets before getting into bed.

There was also a television with English-language options.

I didn’t turn it on once.

Instead, I read. With so much still to experience, spending an hour watching television suddenly felt like a waste.

By 7pm, the journey had caught up with me, but I wasn’t missing dinner.

White tablecloths and candles made the restaurant feel elegant without being stuffy. I’d told the hotel beforehand that I was pescatarian and was given a menu with suitable choices that I could tick before handing it back.

After years of scanning menus to work out how limited my options are going to be, it was a thoughtful touch. The fish dishes I chose were full of flavour and didn’t feel like an afterthought.

The following morning was when I finally had my “OK, I’m here now” moment.

At around 7am, I stepped onto my balcony and properly took everything in.

Below, I could hear the quiet chatter of guests already having breakfast. Houses were scattered across the landscape, with the surrounding peaks beyond them.

I’d never been here before, yet somehow it already felt homely.

Breakfast was a generous buffet of fruit, pastries and pancakes, with freshly squeezed orange juice that I kept going back for.

Afterwards, I explored more of the hotel’s wellness areas.

There were so many options that I spent a while trying to decide where to start. The outdoor Jacuzzi? Thermal indoor pool? Sauna? Steam room?

I eventually settled on the sauna and steam room and spent around 20 minutes letting the outside world disappear.

I’ve always felt as though I’m doing my skin a favour in a sauna. I leave feeling refreshed and, even if it’s only in my head, slightly more youthful than when I walked in.

I noticed the same unhurried approach from the staff.

Before heading out on an electric mountain bike, I asked reception for a map. A member of staff calmly talked me through the routes and signs until I understood where I was going.

Usually, I’m the sort of person who will nod and say, “Yes, I understand,” even when I absolutely don’t because I don’t want somebody explaining something for the fourth time.

This time, I actually listened.

Soon I was on the bike and spent at least two hours exploring, gradually building up the courage to go higher.

At times, the roads became so quiet that my imagination started working overtime.

I briefly considered Googling it.

Thankfully, my wildlife encounter remained entirely in my head.

I didn’t reach the top, but I made it high enough to look back and see Lüsnerhof reduced to what looked like a tiny dot below.

Usually, when I’m walking somewhere alone, putting my headphones in is almost automatic. Here, I barely opened Spotify.

The sound of water running nearby was better than anything I felt like playing.

There was still one part of the experience I wasn’t quite so relaxed about.

I’d watched people doing them online and always thought: absolutely not.

Now I was standing over a natural stone tub filled with freezing water and chunks of ice, wondering whether I was genuinely going to get in.

With my instructor guiding me through breathing techniques, I repeated “I can do this” to myself at least 10 times.

The initial shock was every bit as unpleasant as I’d imagined, but concentrating on my breathing helped. I lasted less than five minutes.

When I climbed out, I felt surprisingly relaxed – but mostly proud.

I’d spent years saying I could never do it. Then I did.

Two nights at Lüsnerhof went quickly and there was plenty I didn’t get around to experiencing.

But perhaps trying to do everything would have missed the point.

I’d arrived thinking a wellness break meant a spa, sauna and a couple of days doing very little.

Instead, I cycled alone through the landscape, left the television untouched, swapped Spotify for the sound of running water and voluntarily climbed into a tub of ice.

For someone used to noise, deadlines and always having something happening around me, what I appreciated most turned out to be much simpler.

For a couple of days, there was nowhere else I needed to be.