Prologue
We’re walking the 55-kilometre Prosecco Hills Trail over four days, winding our way through the heart of Italy’s Veneto region. This UNESCO World Heritage site is a lush patchwork of green valleys, forests, medieval villages, and undulating hills terraced with grapevines that produce world-renowned Prosecco sparkling wine. It’s a gentler walk for us, after our Dream Way odyssey across the Alps, and we’re looking forward to sampling the area’s traditional dishes and enjoying a glass or two of Prosecco at the end of each day.
Day 1: Vidor to Farra di Soligo (12 km)
We travel overnight on a sleeper train to Venice, then north towards Vidor via a succession of local trains and buses, one of which we wait over an hour for, before accepting it will never arrive. En route, we met Anis, a Moroccan IT expert who works for an American company and spends every month in a different country. We converse about all manner of things, including his deep longing for home. Before we part ways, he gives us a small quartz crystal geode from his village to remember him by. Later, we chat with an Italian doctor and his Russian partner, a journalist, who left Russia after graduating rather than risk detention, or worse, for reporting the truth.
It’s early afternoon by the time we arrive in Vidor to start the Prosecco Hills Trail. As high-viz-clad local tradies enjoy an Aperol Spritz, we fortify ourselves with a coffee before setting off into a green landscape dotted with stone buildings. Overlooking the town is the Chapel of Our Lady of Sorrows, a war memorial that holds the remains of the fallen of Vidor in its crypt.
Hills terraced with vines. Grapes that look (and taste) ready for harvesting. The Prosecco Hills have been a winemaking region since Roman Times. In the mid-18th century, local viticulturalists started planting the thin-skinned, green ‘glera’ grape to make Prosecco; the lime-rich soil and mild climate being ideal for this variety. To cultivate the steep slopes, farmers shaped the land by building grassy embankments (ciglioni) before planting the vines. In a show of foresight, they preserved much of the forest that covered the area. It was this interaction of people and nature over several centuries that led to its World Heritage listing.
Except for one group of workers, all is quiet in the vineyards. Among the vines grow figs, pomegranates, persimmons and chestnuts. Underfoot are wild cyclamens and pale mauve crocus flowers, foretelling summer’s demise.
An undulating walk, up and down hills, on the path of the cypresses. The highest hill of the afternoon is Col Moliana at 445 metres above sea level. Here lies part of a zig-zag-shaped trench, dug into stone by the Austro-Hungarian army in 1917. It provided access to an observation post used to spy on Italian military deployments on the right bank of the Piave River. The view from the Col overlooks the stage of the ‘Final Battle’ of WWI, marking the Italian victory over the Austro-Hungarians.
Near Col San Martino, an ancient church sits perched on a hill, picturesque with its distinctive medieval bell tower and well-preserved frescoes. As the late-afternoon sun bathes the town in soft golden light, we make our way to our accommodation. Over the course of the evening, we try three different Proseccos, one of them non-sparkling, as was originally the tradition. Our dinner is a degustation of Venetian dishes created from local, seasonal produce. It’s indulgent, but we’re here to savour the tastes of the region, as well as wander its trails.
Day 2: Farra di Soligo to Follina (15.5 km)
A late finish yesterday. A late start today, after chatting to two Belgians at breakfast. They’re walking the Prosecco Hills Trail to mark their retirement and honour an ancestral connection. We lose ourselves after leaving our B&B, but regain the trail after wandering the town’s backstreets for a short time. Clouds descend, bringing the possibility of rain. As we climb, we pause to look back at the village, dominated by the tall, slender bell tower of the Church of Saint Vigilio.
Winding our way up and around the terraced hills, we follow the natural contour lines of the land in the same manner as the rows of vines. Where it’s steeper, the vines are planted downslope. Small groups of pickers are at work, harvesting the first grapes of the 2025 vintage.
We keep climbing until we’re above the vineyards and in the forest. The trees in the main are birch on the north side and oaks on the south. Cresting a ridgeline, we walk up and down several hills on the Sentiero delle Vedette (trail of lookouts), each with panoramic views of the Pieve plains, and at least two of the mountain passes we crossed on the Dream Way.
The summit of Monte Pertegar is 485 metres high, the highest of the area’s small mountains. These summits were of strategic importance during WW1 as lookout posts and trench placements. We explore a trench system that soldiers cut by hand into the hillside. Today it’s inhabited by microbats, an onyx-black lizard and a scurry of geckos.
An afternoon of idyllic views of terraced hillsides and distant mountains. Rain drifts in and then stops. The sun shines. The ancient chestnut trees growing on the hilltops are evidence of people having worked this land for centuries. We stop for lunch at a picnic area with a fireplace and a pan for roasting chestnuts. We can’t help but wish it were la castagna (chestnut season).
A sanctuary, with a commanding square bell tower and a porch painted with beautiful frescoes of saints and sinners. Named Pietto al Colleague, it’s the site of a traditional procession on the Tuesday after the second Sunday in November, where pilgrims venerate the Madonna of Sorrows and seek favour for the coming harvest.
Walking down into the valley, we cross the Bridge of Humanity and continue towards Follina. It’s a slow-walked afternoon, and we arrive at our destination in need of a rest before exploring the town. As we laze on the terrace, the sky darkens. Soon enough, the rain forces us indoors. The storm that follows is so intense and sustained that we miss visiting the Abbey of Santa Maria, a 12th-century Cistercian site known for its Romanesque cloister and 13th-century stone statue of the Virgin Mary.
At the bar of our hotel, the most expensive glass of Prosecco on the menu is €3.50. No wonder it’s popular! We enjoy a glass and toast the alchemists who transform the glera grape into this pale-coloured, sparkling pick-me-up.
Day 3: Follina to Tarzo (13.5 km)
The rain clears, and the clouds lift from the hills as we set off this morning, following the river out of town. The beautiful, brooding pre-Alps are drawing closer. We stop to ask a woman working in her garden for advice. It transpires, as is not uncommon in Italy, that she has relatives in Australia. ‘Give my love to Melbourne,’ she calls out as we leave.
We walk the back roads strung along the river valley before starting to ascend. We’re intrigued by the vast, fortress-like building dominating the hilltop and learn that it’s the Castel Brando, one of the largest and oldest castles in Europe. It dates back to Roman Times, built to defend the Via Imperiale Claudia Augusta, a Roman road that connected the Adriatic Sea to the Danube. Since then, it has been home to lords and nobles, serving as a medieval stronghold, a military hospital, and a monastery. Today, it’s an exclusive spa hotel.
We watch Saturday cyclists labouring up the steep hill. Before long, we come to the Temple of the Blessed Virgin of Grace, inspired by the Temple of Peace in Padua and constructed to commemorate the fallen soldiers of WWI. Outside the church is a cannon. In its crypt, designed to represent Madonna as a mother embracing her fallen sons, lie the bodies of soldiers who died in wars.
The two Belgian walkers catch us, and we sit and chat with them for a while. They explain their connection to the Prosecco Hills. The mother of one of them grew up here. For him, it’s a long-delayed homecoming and a chance to revive familial ties.
We walk up the northern, forested side of the ridge line. The forest features trees coppiced for firewood, as well as manna ash, white downy oak, and poplars. Wild cherry and several smaller species help stabilise the sloping ground and conserve the landscape.
On the southern side, we find ourselves once more in a land of terraced vineyards and orchards, with figs ripe for eating. Nearby, there’s a small, charming rural village called Rolle. In 2004, it became the first Italian village protected by the Italian Environmental Fund. The renowned Italian poet Andrea Zanzotto grew up here and described it as a postcard sent from the gods.
Because of last night’s rain, we take a quiet local road to avoid the steep, slippery forest path. In Arfanta, we find a restaurant that serves us coffee even though they’re busy preparing a wedding feast. Continuing downhill, we experience a sense of déjà vu. It dawns on us that we were on this path a few weeks ago, walking from Munich to Venice on the Dream Way. We follow the trail into Tarzo, where we’re staying at the Ai Pini guesthouse again. We stop en route to visit the parish church and admire its frescoes and painted glass panels that represent the life stages of a Christian.
It’s the easiest of days on the Prosecco Hills Trail, and we mark the end of it with a Spritz. From our vine-covered terrace, we can see across town to the hills of Prosecco Superiore, a unique cultural landscape forged by the winemakers who have both changed and protected the terrain.
Day 4: Tarzo to Vittorio Veneto (12.5 km)
At breakfast this morning, we talked to three Dream Way walkers. The end of their long journey across the Alps is in sight. They are looking forward to a swim in the Adriatic Sea and a couple of days celebrating in Venice before returning home to Germany. Stepping out, they meet the day with vigour in their stride.
We walk northwards, following the Via dei Murales (Way of the Murals), through the quiet hamlets of Fratta and Colmaggiore. Once, their narrow, winding streets bustled with activity. Now, murals depicting the dreams, traditions and culture of past inhabitants adorn the walls of houses and public buildings. They constitute part of an open-air museum designed to preserve memories, attract visitors and breathe new life into the area.
Near Fratta, standing above the glacial Revine Lakes, is a majestic 7-metre-tall Winged Lion of Tarzo. The artist Marco Martalar created the sculpture to celebrate the 6th anniversary of the Prosecco Hills as a World Heritage Site. Crafted from vine shoots and wood felled by a catastrophic storm in 2018, the lion is a symbol of strength and rebirth. (Storm Vaia tore down over 15 million trees and devastated a landscape thought of as immutable and eternal.)
On the glistening, waterlily-fringed Revine Lago lakes, people fish from paddle boats as cyclists sweep around the perimeter of the glacial-formed lakes. We join the many day walkers on the tranquil lakeside path, then climb a narrow trail through the forest to Nogarolo for an early lunch. By the number of tables being set, they are expecting a crowd this fine Sunday afternoon.
For a time, we rejoin the Dream Way on a path that winds around verdant green hills and takes us through farms and small hamlets. We hear occasional bird song and read signs warning us of the presence of wild boar & deer. The only danger comes from an out-of-control mountain bike rider who almost takes us out on a steep, stony track.
The day quietens, and we see no one until the path drops down into Serravalle. The Osteria al Penultimate is open, so we order a drink and sit outside, basking in the sunshine. Taking in the life of the village, we notice that the doors of the church opposite are ajar. We wander into this unimposing building to find beauty we were not expecting: an interior of stunning 15th-century frescoes.
Bound for the walk’s end point, we pass a lively Piazza surrounded by Renaissance-era buildings. Standing there admiring the richly decorative facade of a museum and the stone, crenulated Clock Tower, we hear someone call our names. It’s the Belgian walkers, insistent on shouting us a prosecco. We chat happily, keen to fill in some of the blanks in our knowledge of each other’s lives.
After farewelling the Belgians, the only other walkers we met doing the Prosecco Hills Trail, we walk down a long, shady avenue of trees, past palatial mansions to the Town Hall at Vittorio Veneto, named to commemorate the Italian army’s victory in the Veneto in November 1918.
Even though there’s nothing to indicate it, the Town Hall is the official end of the Prosecco Hills Trail. We pose for an obligatory end-of-walk photo and later that evening, toast our time wandering the lush green Prosecco Hills. Such halcyon days, on a trail that took us on a slow journey through a culture and landscape shaped over centuries by the entanglement of humans and nature.
If you would like to explore more of the European Alps, please see our account of walking the stunningly beautiful Tour de Mont Blanc, a short walk in the Pyrenees, or our epic walk across the Alps on the Dream Way
