Rain hammers the windshield as the shuttle van stops at the edge of the village of Sesto, Italy. We pile out without enthusiasm. It’s early September in Südtirol, just south of the Austrian border.

Under the drooling eaves of a cafe, we pull on our rain gear. Nadine, the shuttle driver for a local tour company, who has the rosy cheeks of an Austrian but accelerates like an Italian, smiles with sympathy. She’s taking our luggage to tonight’s lodging.