by Victor Caneva
If you can brave potential blasts from the bora’s fury, winter is the perfect time to walk the trails high on Trieste’s Karst. Foliage that obstructs staggering views in other seasons has long since fallen to the ground and become compost during soggy autumn days and nights.
Many Triestini and visitors alike are familiar with the broad Napoleonica Trail, originating near the Obelisk at the entrance to Opicina.
Fewer are familiar with the narrower Cobolli Trail that rises even higher on the Carso, snakes through the forest, and deposits hikers in the charming village of Prosecco by way of the stunning vistas at the Santuario di Monte Grisa.
The Cobolli Trail derives its name from Triestine alpinist and Karst enthusiast, Nicolò Cobolli. Cobolli, who was also an educator and committed irredentist, was so passionate about the merits of outdoor recreation that this trail was posthumously named after him.
Last winter, after what felt like an eternity spent indoors, a friend drove my family up to the parking lot where both the Napoleonica and the Cabolli trails begin. I had walked the boulevard-like Napoleonica the previous winter, but on this occasion we decided to commemorate our rare day outdoors with a hike on the Cobolli trail.
Initially, the trail climbs above the Napoleonica and runs parallel to the more famous path below. Although the sun shone brilliantly as we began our slight ascent, inspiring the Gulf of Trieste to sparkle like showy sequins on a gown for opening night at Teatro Verdi, the bora ensured we didn’t overheat. Cold raffiche awakened the senses and chilled our reddening noses. We enjoyed watching fitful gusts race wildly on the surface of the Adriatic like playful ghosts.
While more narrow and stony than the Napoleonica, the Cobolli is certainly not a strenuous trail. Gently hugging the slope of the Carso, the path still features the odd bench and lookout for those wanting to pause and take in uniquely Carsic panoramas, liberated by the bareness of the winter flora.
As the Cobolli continued, we were reminded that the Karst has not always been this tranquil. We passed the remains of Austrian trenches from the First World War that once stretched south all the way to Val Rosandra. On our right, heavy and out of place on the idyllic wooded slope, sat a German machine gun battery from World War II.
Once the trail turned northward away from the coast and on the Carso plateau, the forest enveloped us, punctuated by more trenches and ancient stone walls. The path wound past several limestone caverns. It was easy to imagine one of the now-extinct, massive cave bears that once made the Karst their home hibernating inside.
Eventually we arrived at the Sanctuary of Monte Grisa. The distinctive temple was built after Antonio Santin, then Bishop of Trieste and Koper, made a vow in 1945 to build a church if Trieste was saved from the destruction of World War II. To our surprise, the sanctuary was outfitted with a well-equipped cafe. We relished an unexpected capo in B before we walked around the back of the church where we encountered some of the most awe-inspiring views of the Gulf of Trieste around.
Our eyes panned from distant Slovenian hills to the Croatian coast to the remarkably clear mouth of the Isonzo River to Duino Castle, proudly peeking out behind the ancient hamlet of Contovello. As you may have gathered, I love a good panorama. I could have stayed there all day.
The trail narrowed as it sloped toward Prosecco, the namesake of the famous, tasty bubbly. We passed above the craggy precipices beloved by rock climbers that tower over the Napoleonica. After a picturesque descent, we returned to civilization at trail’s end on the outskirts of Borgo San Nazario.
I look forward to making this fabulous trek again soon. I suggest you try it as well! Perhaps we’ll see one another on the trail
