Dolomites Elopement on Seiser Alm: Fog, Vows, and the Freedom to Change the Plan

We didn’t start this day in the mountains.

We started in a quiet hotel room in Bolzano, sunlight slipping between shutters. A slow, soft morning in the Parkhotel Mondschein — calm before the shift. We wandered the city for a while, let the rhythm of cobblestones and early autumn air wrap around us.

And then: the road. A car ride toward something quieter, wilder, less certain.

The Dolomites weren’t part of the original plan.

Not like this, anyway. Jana and Steffen had first reached out about a civil ceremony in Bozen — a few guests, family, the usual kind of small celebration. But the more we talked, the more something else started to come through. A deeper want. Less event, more experience. Less script, more space.

So we tore up the plan and built something new.

By the time we reached Seiser Alm, the weather had already started shifting. The sun that warmed us in Bozen was gone. Replaced by fog. Thick, cinematic, all-consuming fog. The kind that erases everything but what’s right in front of you.

We took the gondola up — just the three of us, suspended between layers of cloud — and then hiked. Originally we were meant to go further, to a hut called Tierser Alpl, but plans changed again. A few days earlier I’d unknowingly picked up Covid at a wedding, and the symptoms hit on that morning. We masked up, stayed outside, and adapted. No shared hut. No long hike. Just fresh air, open ground, and presence.

Sometimes the best things happen when everything else falls away.

Jana and Steffen are the kind of people who feel like warmth. Both doctors, both deeply compassionate — the kind of couple that makes you feel like you’ve known them forever. Jana kept trying to call the cows with a word she swore worked (it didn’t). She said “Dolomiti” over and over, like a prayer. Her love for the mountains was contagious.

They’d chosen this place because they feel more like themselves in nature. Living in the Ruhrgebiet, they escape into landscapes whenever they can. And now, with the fog closing in and their breath visible in the air, they stood hand in hand on the edge of a hill — and spoke their vows.

No officiant. No audience. Just words for each other. Words they’d written from the gut.

And then, during those five minutes of promises, the fog lifted.

Like, literally lifted.

The peaks revealed themselves, just for that moment — like they were listening. And then, just as suddenly, the clouds rolled back in.

I’ve taken thousands of photos in my life. This moment? I almost didn’t. I lowered the camera for a while. Let myself feel it. Let them have it. Then I picked it back up, stood at a respectful distance, and did what I could to catch something I already knew couldn’t fully be captured.

The images from that day range from sweeping landscapes with two small humans in the middle, to close-up tears and quiet smiles. But more than anything, they’re about what we felt.

About what they let themselves feel.

If you’re reading this and thinking, “God, I wish that were us” — maybe it can be.

This wasn’t a perfect day. We changed plans. We were cautious with health. The fog messed with the view. But it was real. It was theirs. And maybe that’s the point — that your story doesn’t have to be epic to be everything.

Sometimes, you just need to listen to your gut. To make space for a different kind of magic. And to have someone with you who gets it.

Thinking of eloping in the Dolomites?

Here’s what I’d tell you:

• Best times to go: Late spring (May/June) or early fall (Sept/Oct) — fewer tourists, better light, moody vibes.

• Seiser Alm: Easy access via gondola, with vast views and endless trails. Great for couples who want beauty without needing to be elite hikers.

• Weather changes fast. Bring layers. Be ready to let the weather be part of the story.

• You don’t need a big plan. You need presence, openness, and someone to document it with care.

And yeah — if this kind of experience calls to you? I’m available for more Dolomites elopements, even multi-day ones. Mountains scare me a little (heights are weird), and hiking kicks my ass — but I still want to go. Because this? This is the kind of story I want to keep telling.
Ready to create your own version of this?
My books are open. No pressure, no performance — just you, your love, and a story we write together.
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