There are thrills you can only experience if you go mountain-biking by night. And so, while the afternoon slips away over the warm Friulian plain, I decide to load my bike in the car and drive up into the mountains. My final destination is one of the many high-altitude refuges that serve dinner.

To the Marinelli refuge/Forcella Morarêt from Forni Avoltri

As I set off on my bike I enjoy the wonderful light of the sun setting behind the peaks. It’s a long, challenging climb; two hours of hard work. The silence and perfume of the woods accompany me and occasionally you can see a wild animal (deer and marmots live among these meadows). More often than not, I meet cows returning to their alpine cowshed and dairy.

The sun has set, I’m immersed in that magical blue hour when there’s still enough light without the need for a headlamp. Amidst this special atmosphere, I arrive at the refuge. You can’t help stopping for a moment to listen to the voice of the wind and admire the view. On high, the silhouette of the mountains; lower down, the lights start to come on in the village. Up here, just me and my bike.

Then I enter that special world that is a mountain refuge: other mountain lovers who, like me, enjoy alpine hospitality and their dinner, others sing to the accompaniment of an accordion, some go outside to admire, once again, the wonders of the night sky. There’s a fellow-feeling among us refuge-goers. We don’t know each other, perhaps we don’t speak the same language, but there’s a special bond among us, we share the same passion and we sit together at the same table. There’s understanding.

And so, after eating dinner and having a chat, it’s time to go home. I leave the warmth of the refuge. Outside, the temperature has dropped a lot, but I’m well equipped. I sling on my backpack, say goodbye again to my friends in the refuge and set off downhill.

The moon floods the meadows, I sing to keep my lungs warm, the descent is fast and I soon get to the villages that a moment before seemed only dots of light. I pass through the villages in the silence of the mountain night and reach my car a few minutes later. I dismount, look up towards the road I travelled and my thoughts fly to the peaks: “what a wonderful evening”.