The Maira Valley

Lena Stoffel travels to the Maira Valley, where the past and the future meet, and locals rebuild a future for themselves – and for the valley itself with all its natural wealth.

The secluded southernmost valleys of the Alps have experienced huge losses in population over the last century. The Maira Valley in the Piemonte – also known as the Sea Alps for their proximity to the Mediterranean Sea – is a good example for this phenomenon. The first waves of depopulation date back to the 1840s, mainly because of the hardship and poverty. With industrialisation, the valley slowly emptied as people moved to the bigger cities in the Po Valley. Today, the further you go into the 60km-long valley, the emptier the villages get, some completely abandoned. Only a few people now live there all year round.

While tourism has reshaped the northern Alps, with large ski resorts and big hotels bringing economic wealth and infrastructure, valleys like the Valle Maira remain predominantly natural spaces. There is less infrastructure, no gondolas, and no big hotels. Nature there is still wild and raw, and it feels as though that nature is taking back what was hers as she reintegrates those lost villages back into the flora and fauna.

The local people are also slowly bringing back a way of life that can sustain a thriving community once more. For them, Valle Maira is a special ground upon which to build a new future. In this fast-spinning world, many people seek quiet places that are reconnected to a local heritage, community, and nature. Beginning with the Grande Traversal delle Alpi trail in the 1980s, hikers started staying in the valley more often and there was work again for those who lived there.

Within the last two decades, local entrepreneurs, skiers, guides, and politicians have started reinventing their home with a different approach. They are rebuilding, refurnishing, and resuscitating those lost villages without any major hotel plans or ski resort development, providing a warm welcome to outdoor lovers who are seeking the hidden treasures of this valley. They are putting nature and local community first.

At home in North Tyrol, I can barely find a place without lifts, hotels, or mass tourism. Travelling the world as a professional skier, I saw places trying this kind of slow tourism, and came to love it as a way of developing places and community in harmony with nature.

I first visited Valle Maira in late 2020 and stayed in a small hotel, the Locanda Mistral in Ponte Maira. There I met owners Renato and Manuela Botte, as well as their son. This family embodies much of what the Valle Maira is all about. Renato is a Mountain Guide who has been guiding in the valley for more than 20 years. Manuela studied tourism management, and her family is originally from the valley. Her parents renovated an old farmhouse from the 18th century and opened the small guesthouse in the 1990s. Now Manuela and Renato have taken over with a view to a happy future living and working there.

We were sitting at the bar one afternoon when we found a book in Italian about the valley’s ski lines, with photographs of the mountains alongside tour descriptions. I noticed the co-author: Renato. Excited by the valley’s potential in winter, I started to talk to Renato about coming back in winter to go skiing.

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It took a long time to make this trip in winter a reality. I wanted to experience the valley in good snow conditions, so had to be patient. Finally, in March 2023, conditions suddenly aligned thanks to a big storm coming from the south, bringing almost a metre of fresh snow in the Piemonte. Kilian Echalier, Carlos Blanchard and I made our way there. It took us half a day to drive over the Brenner, past Lake Garda, and through the Po Valley. It felt like we were on the way to the ocean as our first glimpse of the snowy Sea Alps took a while to arise on the horizon.

The snowstorm had hit a couple of days earlier and the sun was already out again. There were two or three sunny days on the forecast. Perfect spring ski touring with powder on the north faces awaited us. It was evening when we arrived – and Manuela’s amazing five-course dinner offered a warm welcome. When Renato joined us for a drink afterwards, we introduced each other and planned our days in the Valle Maira.

We started our first day in Saretto at 1,530m. It’s the second-to-last village in the valley, and now in winter it seems to be abandoned. Renato told us that only two elderly people now live there year round. It’s the same for many of these villages. In summer people from Turin come to stay in the holiday houses they’ve bought and renovated.

We started hiking. After passing the source of the Maira River, we made our way up through larch forest with views across to the Rocca Provenzale: a beautiful and striking rocky peak at the valley’s end, acting as a landmark. The forest and mountains appeared to be reclaiming the houses. Both the old and abandoned ruins, as well as those carefully renovated, blended into their environment to become part of nature.

More animal tracks than traces of people could be seen as we hiked. Enormous 3,000m peaks loomed all around, and in front of was the sheer wall of Monte Oronaye (3,100m). Behind every corner opened a new high valley – along with more slopes, more possibilities. On this day we found good snow on the mellow north faces. Our skiing took us down through powder high up, but also through the larch forest all the way to Saretto, ending directly at the car.

In the evening we strolled through Chiappera, the last village at the valley end, situated at the foot of the Rocca Provenzale. We walked on snowy tracks between the buildings – a history of architecture along one street. Deep shadow between the timber houses contrasted with the bright alpenglow on the high peaks above as the sun set. A thought struck me – that this felt like a truly mystical experience. On every house we noticed many fascinating details, indicating a sense of love for living with nature and their animals here. On one door a drawing of a wolf caught our attention. It seemed natural – perfect, really, and incredibly lifelike. To me it felt a bit spooky and nostalgic. Continuing our walk, we saw only one old man who was running after his many cats to feed them before disappearing into a stable.

We ended the day in the cozy restaurant of the locanda, and made a plan with Renato to join him and his group in the morning on the short drive to Chialvetta, where our ski tour for the second day would begin. The plan was to drive there with Renato and then ski back to the locanda in the afternoon, going over a peak and dropping down into the forest, then ending right on the terrace.

Chialvetta is situated in the next valley leading towards the south – the doorway to even more wild and beautiful scenery. We started hiking, passing one or two open locandas. Chialvetta is a starting point for many ski tours of different levels, and felt a bit more lively than Chiappera. We continued on an old path framed by trees leading towards the next snowed-in village, Pratorotondo. There were no signs of people here, but a beautiful walk past the church and the old houses clustered together gave a feeling of the sense of community people must have had in former days living here on the land.

We continued to Viviere and found another open locanda. Two bottles of wine on a wooden shelf told us the refuge was open, welcoming us with the hearty warmth we’ve grown used to (and always with a good glass of wine and great local food). But we passed the sign, as we wanted to get some skiing in.

Looking up, we caught sight of some tracks leading into a steep north-facing couloir – this looked super interesting! But sadly we didn’t have much time, and lacked local guidance that day, so weren’t able to go for it. Instead, we have kept it as an inspiration for returning with more time to plan bigger skiing missions. We continued to find a few north-facing slopes with good snow, and then made our way over an old military road – many of these are to be found in the valley – towards the peak just above Ponte Maira.

As the border to France is not far away, many signs of the world wars can be seen: military roads, ruined bunkers, and other fortifications. Nowadays the roads are used mainly by hikers, bikers, and ski tourers; they make easy approaches and connections between the different valleys. Another special thing you’ll find here are many bivouac cabins situated in the high alpine, used by adventurers to connect routes and spend days out in the wild.

After an hour and half we stood on top of the peak looking down to the Locanda Mistral. A steep tree run through open larch forest lay ahead of us. With some navigating – mainly by Kilian – we managed to find our really steep north-facing slope that we’d spotted from the terrace of the locanda the day earlier. The snow there was still really good, and deep, despite three days of powerful sunshine at the beginning of March. Delicate afternoon light painted vivid colours on the larch forests. The Valle Maira was showing its beauty to us: orange in contrast to the sparkling white powder and the spray of spindrift thrown up by our skies. All this surrounded by peaks and sleepy villages in the valley bottom.

A magical day ended again with chats and a beer in the bar of the locanda, with others arriving from their own days on the mountain, exchanging experiences.

We talked to an old weathered man from Turin who also comes to the valley a lot. He had brought the print of a painting with him as a present for Renato – the image of a man walking on skis in a snowy landscape with larches. He told us the original painting from the Valle Maira dated from the 1800s. Very beautiful, and you could place it next to the photos we took that day.

He had been out skiing, and was so excited about his 50 linking turns in perfect powder that he told us it was maybe even better than sex. He was truly a passionate skier and adventurer. I think the Valle Maira attracts a certain bunch of people.

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Those two days were filled with good skiing, positive chats about slow tourism, and a sense of community that felt just right. Nowadays with social media and other online platforms where people share their adventures, locals sometimes try to keep their beloved places a secret. For me this point of exchange at the locanda was the opposite of localism – and felt so beautiful. It was an exchange of information, stories, history. An exchange of a vision, too: one where everyone who respects and supports the place, and the locals, is welcomed with open arms. Everyone can help the local community to make a living in this beautiful place.

We talked with Renato about how they support local businesses in buying mainly from local farmers and suppliers. And, of course, as it’s a mountain tradition, we also drank a Genepy – a spirit famous in the south-western alps. Renato told us about two young men starting their own distillery in one of the valleys high up the mountains. One was a chemist, the other an archaeologist with a family background in this small village in the high alpine. They had taken over an old stable and turned it into a distillery, making liquor out of the regional high alpine herbs. We decided to visit them the next day to end our trip.

They call their distillery Alquimio d’Oc, the ‘Alchemist of the Occitan’. We drove up a winding road through villages of the St Michele region, up to 1,600m and surrounded again by beautiful mountains. We met Stefano – the chemist from Turin, quiet and friendly with a long beard – who moved up here in 2019 to rebuild the old stable belonging to the grandfather of his business partner. He lives here all year round; meanwhile his business partner commutes between his job for the university as an archaeologist and the distillery. We could tell Stefano enjoys the living up here.

He showed us the distillery, the drying room with the wooden racks with many different herbs on it, and the white fabric sacks hanging on the wall ready to put into the alcohol. He showed us where he collects the herbs by pointing at the mountains and mountain ridges in front of us, and told us which ones they harvest in which months of the summer. Some they cultivate themselves in their garden, like the Arquebuse, and some they buy from local farmers. For example, the herb for the Genepy is protected, so they can’t collect it in the wild.

He showed us the process of drying, hanging the 1kg sacks of dry herbs, and then where and how they put them into alcohol, getting 140L out of each sack. We tested a few sips of some of the liquors – of course – and we all liked the wild thyme one the most. Thyme grows a lot in the Valle Maira up to an altitude of 2,500m. Stefano also told us about their Liquore di Merse – the liquor of the sprout of the larch, which they introduced locally.

He told us that he sells to all the shops, bars, and restaurants in the valley, and that the demand varies from summer to winter with more tourists coming in summer. He also has a small online shop and a delivery service in Italy. It’s a quiet life up there, and the closest big supermarket is out in Dronero, which he only visits every two or three weeks. He is surrounded by a few neighbours who also run small businesses. Stefano has chosen to live this quiet life, making his profession from his passion as a chemist – and also living with the seasons and what nature here provides.

We bought a few bottles of the thyme liquor to take home as presents, and were on the road again to Innsbruck with a few hours to reminisce about the last couple of the days. Together we chatted about the places we saw and skied and the people we met. Each one of us wants to spent more time here.

For me this was the main takeaway: the sense of nature and community in the Valle Maira. A way of living together in community, supporting each other to make a living in a place where the environment is raw and wild. And all this is an experience very authentic and close to nature.

In 2013, Tourist Consorzio was founded – a tourism association that consists of over 120 members. More than half of these are small hotels, while the others are service providers such as small shops, craftsmen, farmers, and producers. I think the voice of the community is strong. Their common interest is to celebrate the Valle Maira and its nature, communicating that it’s a special travel destination in all four seasons.

It’s in their interest to bring life into the valley and share the love for the outdoors, all the sports and fun it can offer, and also the natural wealth and biodiversity.

I hope that the Valle Maira and its people can continue this path of slow and sustainable tourism. That people like Renato, Manuela, and Stefano can push their vision for the valley and be role models for others to come there and open other businesses.