The Timeless Magic of the Alps

Many of us hike to escape into nature, but one of the beauties of the Western Alps — that storied, snowcapped range shared by Switzerland, France, and Italy — is that the region’s centuries-old mountain culture rarely feels too far away. The hills are alive with the sound of cowbells. Staffed huts cater to weary trekkers 9,000 feet above sea level. Along some lower trails, farmers even still sell their own fresh bread and cheese.

Civilized treats like these distinguish the Alps from wilder North American preserves like Yosemite and Yellowstone, as do the cog railways and state-of-the-art cable cars that whisk visitors up the slopes, enhancing day-hiking options. For history buffs, the Alps offer a whole other zone to explore: They were a central site for the so-called Golden Age of Mountaineering, which was launched here by intrepid British gentleman-explorers and their European guides. An outgrowth of the nature-loving Romantic movement, this Victorian leisure trend gave birth to modern climbing and spawned a hiking craze that has never quite subsided.

This watershed period began in 1856 and — forgive the pun — peaked a decade later, when a seven-man party led by artist Edward Whymper claimed the first ascent of the 14,692-foot Matterhorn. Whymper and his mostly upper-class peers set out in heavy tweeds and other primitive gear that we can scarcely imagine using today, with nothing more than hobnail boots, flax ropes, hooked staffs called alpenstocks, and their own sinewy fingers to keep them from tumbling off sheer rock faces. The local guides who assisted them were every bit as fearless as their British clients. Their shared adventures did as much as anything to turn the Alps — land of cozy ski chalets, flowery meadows, and bubbling fondues — into the popular travel destination it is today.

That history is explored in The White Ladder: Triumph and Tragedy at the Dawn of Mountaineering, a new book by Daniel Light about 19th-century attempts to conquer the major European and Himalayan peaks. “For a lot of Westerners, the Alps has always offered a good balance of the familiar and the exotic,” Light said during a recent interview from his office in northeast London. At least some of the sport’s past has been preserved in Alpine museums and restored hotels, for which Light and others can be glad. “It’s always exciting to see something that’s still part of the Alpine world as it might have been more than a century ago,” he said.

With help from Light and others, we’ve selected five towns that offer a portal into that world — and a path to the heights that continue to beckon climbers and hikers alike. A note on timing: Mid-June to mid-September is prime hiking season, with the best weather arriving in July and August. There’s a better chance you’ll find snow on the ground in June, but also fewer crowds. 

The sight of the 11-peak Mont Blanc massif from the Chamonix Valley — home of the world’s oldest guiding company (1821) and the birthplace of modern mountaineering — is arguably the most sublime view in the Alps. “It’s so harmonious and stunning. It’s hard to beat, really,” says Claire Thiolière, a native Chamoniarde who’s worked there as a licensed hiking guide for 35 years.

Summiting 15,777-foot Mont Blanc is a task best left to fully equipped expert climbers, but anyone can take a cable car up to the needle-shaped Aiguille du Midi. The 20-minute ride itself is an adrenaline rush, as is the cantilevered glass box at the top. Enter it and then peer 3,400 feet down into the void and you’ll get a taste of the terror that mountaineers have voluntarily embraced here since the 19th century. 

Mellower thrills await those who take the little red train to Montenvers. This high-altitude station overlooks France’s largest glacier, the Mer de Glace, from which hiking trails lead both up and down. Walkers can stay overnight in the 18-room Refuge du Montenvers, whose granite walls have sheltered travelers since 1880. Alternatively, head to nearby Argentière, where the 69-room Hotel La Couronne (the valley’s oldest) reopened in 2023 with teal-accented minimalist interiors.

The Savoyard cuisine in Chamonix is some of the best eating in the Alps; museum-like La Calèche and upscale-rustic La Maison Carrier both serve excellent tartiflette, a hearty traditional casserole of bacon, potatoes, cheese, and onions that tastes even better after a hike. The town’s Alpine Museum is under renovation and won’t reopen until late 2025 at the earliest. In the meantime, check out the displays of early crampons, ice axes, and other mountaineering artifacts at the Simond headquarters on the edge of town, where the 100-year-old gear manufacturer recently installed a “heritage space” that is open to the public.

On the other side of the Mont Blanc massif from Chamonix, this traditional mountaineering hub offers a different view of the range — more spires, less snow — and has a third as many people as its French counterpart. It also feels older, with cobblestoned streets, stone-and-timber buildings, and historic lodgings like the many-balconied Hotel Berthod, which is still family-owned.

The Skyway Monte Bianco cable car zips up from town to Europe’s highest bookshop, which is also a great departure point for hikes; follow the undulating trail that leads to a pair of famous huts, Rifugio Bertone and Rifugio Bonatti. The 105-mile Tour du Mont Blanc, which passes through France and Switzerland and offers nonstop views of ice walls, gravelly moraines, and jagged peaks, is one of the world’s top hut-to-hut routes. “The huts in Italy are great, because they really know how to host people. It’s always good food and a warm welcome — and Italian hot chocolate is the best in the world,” says Thiolière, the Chamonix-based guide. For a stiffer kick, try a glass of génépy, an absinthe-like liqueur made from mountain sage.

For fontina fondue, polenta, and other humbler staples, try Le Cadran Solaire, whose cozy dining room is hung with art prints and vintage copperware. Order a bottle of something local, too: Valle d’Aosta winemaking has come into its own over the past decade, especially with high-altitude Nebbiolos. 

The picturesque Lauterbrunnen Valley sits in the shadow of the Jungfrau region’s famous trio: the Eiger, Mönch, and Jungfrau peaks. Some of the best hiking here is in Mürren, where illustrated signage helps trekkers imagine the approaches made by early climbers. The Northface Trail, a 4.5-mile loop, passes traditional dairy farms and an Alpine hut where you can reenergize with freshly baked cake and hot coffee. The seven-mile hike between Mürren and car-free Wengen is a moderately challenging ramble along the Via Alpina, a 3,000-mile route that crosses eight countries. It’s one of the best ways to view the north face of the Eiger while avoiding the tourist crowds of nearby Grindelwald.

Mürren has a new — well, new-old — place to spend the night: the four-star, 49-room Hotel Mürren Palace. Following a 15-year closure, the 1874 hotel reopened last year in a blue-and-pink blaze of retro glory. But a bigger lodging renaissance is underway in Wengen. The newly reopened Hotel Jungfraublick has 42 light-filled rooms and old mountaineering equipment adorning the walls. “The interiors are beautiful, and the area is less popular — you feel it’s how things used to be,” says Katarzyna Majchrzycka, who leads trips here for the California-based travel company Backroads. 

Just down the street, the historic Grand Hotel Belvedere is in the midst of an even splashier remodel. Designed by Geneva-based architect Arnaud Christin, the 90-room luxury lodge has parquet floors, spruce cladding, and elegant mid-century modern styling. Some areas of the expanded revamp are open, with the rest — including a Japanese-inspired spa — scheduled to be ready by summer 2025.

The pyramidal Matterhorn is the most recognizable mountain peak on earth. Approach it the way early mountaineers did, along the 2.6-mile Hörnli Trail, which passes Schwarzsee lake and (now) has metal stairs and walkways at its steepest points. 

Riffelhaus 1853, a red-trimmed reincarnation of an iconic 19th-century mountain inn, is reachable via railway and an excellent base for mountain adventures. Pine-clad walls lend its 25 guest rooms a woodsy aroma, and the restaurant serves rösti and a slightly sour traditional bouillon known as hay soup. Sunburned Swiss guides once gathered at a stone wall here every morning, awaiting their Victorian clients, but nowadays the trains and well-marked trails made it easy to conduct self-guided hikes in the hotel’s above-the-tree-line surroundings.

Don’t be fooled by all the upscale bistros and designer boutiques: Back in the day, Zermatt was a humble mountain town. The aforementioned Edward Whymper, conqueror of the Matterhorn, was drawn to its “picturesque châlet dwellings, black with age.” Some of these can still be found in and around the old quarter, as can traditional raised barns called stadels. (Both are made of larch, which darkens more than other wood types.) Stop by the subterranean Matterhorn Museum, which presents films and historical exhibits within a reconstructed 19th-century Alpine village, and where the artifacts on display include the rope that snapped during Whymper’s descent of the Matterhorn, killing four of his companions.

The smoke-filled dining room at the Monte Rosa Hotel, on the pedestrian-only Bahnhofstrasse, was for decades a gathering place for 19th-century mountaineers. The tweeds and pipe smoke are gone, but the original walls of Edward’s Bar-Café are still there. Head to the hotel’s haute-rustic bistro, Whymper Stube, for bratwurst, dried beef, and locally sourced raclette (a variation on fondue), all of which sits lighter in the stomach after an active day in the mountains.

Darrell Hartman is the author of Battle of Ink and Ice: A Sensational Story of News Barons, North Pole Explorers, and the Making of Modern Media. He lives in New York City and Livingston Manor, N.Y.