From Switzerland to Italy; on skis
There's nothing quite like crossing alpine borders. Skiing from Zermatt to Cervinia (and back) in a single day.
I’d been watching the wind conditions for days. Gales on the summit made any attempt to ski from Zermatt, Switzerland to Cervinia, Italy, an impossibility. Or at the least, a not very enjoyable alpine experience.
But then the conditions eased. Down low, on the German-Swiss side of the Matterhorn, the snow was good. Clean and hard. It had been good for more than a week. The kind of snow that holds an edge from the first run to the last.
The prospect of breakfasting in Switzerland, then venturing into Italy for lunch, before returning the same day, was part of the reason we opted for Zermatt, in the shadows of the Matterhorn, as our alpine base.
And to keep such an option open, I added the ‘international’ premium to my Zermatt lift pass; just in case. About 40 Swiss francs extra. Mind you, the 200-plus kilometres of groomed pistes was more than enough to fill my week in Zermatt. But a potential border crossing on skis was enticing.
When day 5 dawned with favourable weather, I picked up my usual breakfast of Zoph (a small braided bread roll) from the stand near the lift. It was warm and good. The filtered coffee was crap, but that’s okay. I learned on day 3 that the lady behind the counter had been doing so for many years; summer and winter. Having shared my cross-border skiing intention with her early on; she said this day:
"Weather's holding.”
"For now," I added.
"The Italians will have sun."
To access Italy from Zermatt village, a series of gondolas get you to the Klein (small) Matterhorn station on the Swiss side. From there you take the Matterhorn Glacier Ride II to the Testa Grigia/Plateau Rosa on the Italian side.
The final connection went up into nothing. Just white and cold and thin air at 3,900 meters. The break in the weather had encouraged many to do similar. I was early, but so were scores of others.
The cable car moved silently and fast. A gust gave it a big nudge and it swayed like a pendulum. A Japanese woman closed her eyes. Her husband held her hand. Nobody spoke. We all might have been saving our breath to deal with the thin air on disembarking at such an altitude.
At the top, the wind was very present. It cut clean. The cold bit. Beanie, hooded jacket and googles tried their best. The Matterhorn stood against the cloudy sky, but it’s familiar angled summit looked very different from this new, elevated perspective.
On exiting the cable car station the run stretched away towards Italy. Visibility was fleeting, but gradually improved with each curving turn. There was no line in the snow to mark the border. Just a sign that changed from ‘piste’ to ‘pista’.
Mountains didn't care about borders
Unlike the stark divisions of international airports or train stations, this border crossing celebrates the gradual blur of cultures that mountain communities have known for centuries. The wide welcoming ‘pista’ seemed to suggest that perhaps borders are more about transition than division.
The winding run was long. Each turn earned. Some things you learn with your limbs that you can't learn any other way. Decades earlier, a ski instructor had told me: “Listen to your legs.”
I rested at some point. Standing there taking in this new country. Cervinia was not yet in view. But I could see chairlifts that originated in Italy. By the end of the run, my thighs burned the way thighs burn when you've done something real. And correct.
Cervinia was different. Not better. Not worse. Just different. Not as upmarket as Zermatt. My first stop was coffee: a macchiato. It came in a small cup. Bliss. How I missed this. Non existent in Zermatt. Hot and black and honest, with a layer of froth. I had to stop myself midway through saying ‘danke’ and offered ‘grazie’ instead.
After a few easy red runs I lunched on pizzoccheri. It's a tagliatelle-style buckwheat pasta blended with cabbage and potatoes, and topped with local Casera cheese. A carb-loaded feast to die for. Much needed. After that, more red runs followed as I mapped my return connections to Switzerland.
The lady in the Zermatt Zoph shop was right: the Italians did have sun.
The way back was quiet. Contemplative. Different light now. Different snow conditions late in the day. Same mountain. The Matterhorn looked like it had moved, or rotated, but it hadn't. I was the one who’d moved, skiing between 2 countries.
It sounds like something you'd talk about later at a bar. Or tick off a bucket list? I wasn’t intending to do either. But I was exhilarated at having had the experience.
Things to know
You need the International Pass. Don't forget this.
Start early in the day, to give yourself as much time in the other country.
Ensure you wear or take layers. The mountain doesn't care if you're cold. And conditions can change in a heartbeat.
Intermediate skills are more than enough. A confident beginner could manage it. The mountain will teach you the rest.
Watch the time. Lifts close when they close.
Other cross border ski adventures
Portes du Soleil (France & Switzerland)
You can glide across the French–Swiss border multiple times in a single session without any special effort; signage alerts you that you’ve changed countries. The runs vary from gentle blues to challenging blacks, and there’s a great mix of alpine villages on both sides.
Samnaun–Ischgl (Switzerland & Austria)
Not only can you easily pop between two countries, but Samnaun is known for being a duty-free zone, so you can actually shop at reduced tax rates. Ischgl, on the Austrian side, is famous for lively après-ski scenes.
La Rosière–La Thuile (France & Italy)
The French side offers panoramic views toward Mont Blanc, while the Italian side sits on the fringe of the beautiful Aosta Valley. The cultural shift is immediate—French “piste” signs give way to Italian “pista,” and cafés switch from croissants to bomboloni or other Italian pastries.
