Europe’s most dramatic rail journey – for just £30

Over the course of only 32 miles, the Centovalli Line features 83 bridges, 31 tunnels and 100 valleys – and it’s at its best in autumn

The train sounded every one of its 101 years. Like a pensioner heaving out of a chair, it creaked, moaned and grumbled into the Vigezzo Valley. But slowly, slowly, it shuffled onwards. And I was more than happy for it to take its time.
The Centovalli Line opened in 1923, a narrow-gauge track connecting Domodossola, in Italy’s Piedmont region, and Locarno, in the Swiss Ticino. Until the early 20th century, the  two were only connected by mule track; the first road didn’t arrive until 1907. In two hours this valiant little railway covers 32 miles, spanning two countries, 83 bridges, 31 tunnels and 100 valleys. And, at only £30 return, for a seat in either a wide-windowed panorama carriage or vintage cream-blue-liveried car, it might be the best-value train ride in Europe.
Especially in autumn. Because the Centovalli is flanked by swathes of deciduous trees, mostly sweet chestnuts. Their nuts have long been vital to this remote alpine region: it’s reckoned a 70-year-old tree could feed someone for six months. The train burrows right through this nutritious woodland, sometimes so close you can eyeball the buzzards perched on the branches. Foliage season runs from mid-October until the end of November, when those 100 valleys turn from rich greens to umbers, oranges and yellows.
On October 11, the day before the official 2024 season started – an autumn day that still thought it was midsummer – I arrived in lakeside Locarno and hopped aboard. Any plans I’d had to sit on the right side for the best views (which, to start, meant on the left) were scuppered by the Centovalli’s size: more tram than train, only two carriages long. I was fortunate to get a seat at all. 
Leaving Lake Maggiore shimmering beneath blazing-blue skies, we plunged into a lengthy tunnel, then up, up we climbed. Below, the River Maggia rippled, while the valleys’ interlocking spurs created a sense of wilderness overlapping to infinity. Bare ridges poked above, and waterfalls angry with recent rains crashed down. Still early autumn, the slopes were sporting a mere French manicure of fall colour: largely green but tipped with rust and gold.
With cheery toots, we approached a succession of stations: sometimes we ground to a halt, sometimes we passed right through. Many are request stops. After an hour, we pulled into Santa Maria Maggiore – the highest station en route – and I jumped off. 
Sitting in the heart of the Vigezzo Valley, perched at 816m, little Santa Maria is an unexpected cultural powerhouse. There are three museums crammed into its gorgeous ice-cream-hued streets. These celebrate eau de cologne (invented by two emigrants from the village), fine art (Vigezzo is known as the Painters Valley) and spazzacamini – for centuries generations of local men (and boys as young as six) left the area to work abroad as chimney sweeps. Alas, all three were closed. So I contented myself with the sweep statues balanced on the chimney pots.
I also contented myself with Pasticceria Poggini. This cafe-cum-salon of Italian delights has been baking since 1961, when Señor Poggini began making fiacia, a shortbready lemon biscuit, and panelatte, a bread pudding rich in raisins and pine nuts. I couldn’t choose, and Señor Poggini’s daughter Carla was no help, unwilling to admit a favourite. So I ordered a small slice of both, with a glass of local Ossolano red, and sat in the garden, bathed in autumn sunshine. Everything was delicious. 
Tempting as it was to stock up on the pasticceria’s cakes, sauce jars and many-shaped pastas, I resisted. The Centovalli is a boon for walkers – trails wriggle from its stations, even out into Italy’s Val Grande National Park. With more limited time, I walked a simple loop, first up to the tight-knit hamlets of Crana and Buttogno – all painted houses and medieval alleys – and back via the forested valley floor. Snow peaks dazzled in the distance, and footpath signs led temptingly further afield… But I had a rail ride to complete. When I jumped back on, the train was virtually empty. I was able to sit where I liked – the right side being the best side, view-wise, now. I pulled down the windows and breathed in the forest as we continued at the same unhurried pace.
It was late afternoon when the Centovalli trundled into Domodossola. To make the most of the lovely light, I hotfooted up Mattarella Hill, following the cobbled devotional path of Sacro Monte Calvario. There’s been a castle here for millennia, built to defend the surrounding Alpine passes. Fragments remain, but now the mound is dominated by 15 chapels marking the stations of the cross. The Resurrection chapel, at the top, offered the best view. As I looked out, the sun was slipping behind the mountains, casting shadows. A few birds flittered. It was extremely peaceful. 
Less tranquil was Domodossola’s main piazza. Having walked back down, I headed there, to find it was clearly aperitivo o’clock: pavement tables overspilled, glasses chinked, grissini crunched, pigeons swirled about the colourful facades, human hubbub swirled with them.
It was a lively Friday evening vibe, but I had a date elsewhere. I was staying at Hotel Eurossola, handily located by the train station, and holder of the valley’s only Michelin star. Chef Giorgio Bartolucci helped his father in the trattoria kitchen when he was a boy. After stints working in high-class establishments abroad, Giorgio returned to put his valley on the culinary map.
“My food is like a backpack that carries our produce around the world,” he told me after I’d gorged on his generous degustazione menu – amid many highlights, the paccheri pasta tubes oozing local Bettelmatt cheese. He’s passionate about small mountain producers, using fine-dining techniques to show-off their ingredients in innovative ways. 
The menu changes four times a year; the week after my visit it would switch. “Autumn is the best season,” Giorgio said. 
His timing was spot on. Just as his menu was about to change, so did the world. As I boarded the Centovalli for my return trip the next morning there seemed to have been a seasonal finger-snap, the valleys now swallowed in mist. 
This time I’d reserved a seat, in first class, and found I had the small VIP compartment to myself. So I slung down all the windows and, because I could, leapt from side to side with the view as I chugged back into Switzerland. I didn’t mind the weather at all. It showed the Centovalli in a different mood. Sparkle replaced by elvish mystery. And the trees – had they turned a tiny bit more? The season creeping in, the slow train grumbling on. 
The author travelled with flight-free travel specialists Byway (020 4525 6215; byway.travel). A sample nine-day trip, with two nights each in Santa Maria Maggiore and Locarno, costs from £1,487pp. 
A return foliage train trip on the Centovalli, including one stop-off, costs from €36/£30pp (vigezzinacentovalli). 
Hotel Eurossola in Domodossola (+39 0324 481326; eurossola) offers B&B doubles from £104pn; the degustazione menu at its Michelin-starred Atelier restaurant costs €95pp/£79pp.