As the sun dipped below the peaks, casting a soft pink hue over the Italian Alps, the ancient spa nestled above Bormio stirred to life, signaling the end of another day of Olympic skiing drama.
Visitors, eager to unwind, traded their bulky coats and boots for plush white robes and swimsuits. They ventured into the near-freezing air, the chill quickly giving way to the inviting warmth of steamy pools, subtly hinting at sulfur. This unique ritual offered a stark contrast to the day’s high-octane events.
“It feels ancient,” remarked Laure Bollinger, who had traveled from Switzerland to witness her country’s skiers excel in the Alpine competitions. Her evening pursuit? A restorative après-ski thermal soak.
Unknown to many spectators, some of the very Olympic athletes they cheered on are avid devotees of these hot springs. Their restorative powers have been chronicled for centuries, with locals in Bormio proudly claiming the thermal waters aid in reducing inflammation, a crucial benefit for physical recovery. The demanding Stelvio course, a regular fixture on the World Cup circuit, ensures these athletes are well acquainted with Bormio’s therapeutic offerings.
During the two-week Olympic spectacle in Bormio, many chose to explore beyond the quiet town. Just a short drive north, in Valdidentro, two luxurious, adults-only spas have transformed some of the historic baths into tourist havens. Meanwhile, Bormio locals often frequent the central baths, which boast indoor and outdoor pools, and even a children’s water slide.
People frequent Bagni Vecchi, a hot springs spa and hotel in Bormio.
The Roman baths at Bagni Vecchi.
Devotees of natural thermal waters trek to baths tucked around the trails of Stelvio National Park, including a spot known as Leonardo’s well.
However, the most ardent fans of natural thermal waters seek out secluded baths hidden along the trails of Stelvio National Park. Their precise locations are often known only to locals and passed down through whispered recommendations. This quest led us astray one snowy day last week, as we found ourselves navigating confusing mountain paths.
Our goal was to find “la pozza di Leonardo,” or Leonardo’s well, as in da Vinci. After an hour and a half of hiking up and down the mountain, we had stumbled upon two frigid, snow-covered pools and walked past a four-star hotel, but the fabled pozza remained elusive.
We had already indulged in the luxury of Bagni Vecchi and Bagni Nuovi, the two upscale spas. At Bagni Vecchi, Ms. Bollinger enthused about unwinding in two of the oldest pools, situated within a quaint former church. Suddenly, she gasped, pointing towards the mountainside. A small herd of young Alpine ibexes grazed peacefully, mere feet away.
“You rarely see them this close,” Ms. Bollinger marveled.
For ancient Romans, thermal waters were considered both medicinal and rejuvenating, famously captured in the Latin phrase “salus per aquam” — health through water. Deep beneath the Alps, nine natural hot springs maintain a constant temperature between 98.6 and 104 degrees Fahrenheit (37 and 40 degrees Celsius).
Ancient Romans considered thermal waters to be medicinal and rejuvenating.
The Roman statesman Cassiodorus lauded Bormio’s baths in the fourth century A.D. Centuries later, during the Middle Ages, monks provided lodging for travelers near these healing waters. Even Leonardo da Vinci documented his stay there in 1493.
Today, Bormio, a medieval town of roughly 4,000 year-round residents, proudly promotes itself as “the wellness mountain.” When a publicist for Bormio’s tourism board learned of The New York Times’s visit to report on the baths, she insisted we set aside time for personal relaxation too.
Indeed, some elite skiers have been visiting these baths for years.
“I love going to hot springs,” shared Sam Morse, 29, an American Olympian who competed in this year’s downhill and super-G races. “I think it’s really nice for recovery, too, just soaking in them for a bit.”
The ease of soaking is undeniable. Muscles loosen, nasal passages clear, and as the outside temperature drops, the thought of leaving the warm embrace of the water becomes increasingly daunting. Yet, as Mr. Morse cautioned, “You don’t want to turn into a noodle.”
Over two weeks of Olympic events in Bormio, some visitors ditched the quiet town and headed a few minutes north to Valdidentro, where some baths have been turned into two sumptuous, adults-only spas.
Alpine ibexes live in the mountains around Bormio.
The view from Bagni Vecchi, which caters to visitors. Many Bormio residents get their thermal water fix at the local baths near the city center.
Mr. Morse first discovered the Bormio spas eight or nine years ago, before learning about and exploring la pozza.
“These things are older than the entire United States,” he observed, appreciating the historical immersion. “It’s cool, because it’s something that you get to go and experience that is historic but not just going to a museum or a castle and walking around. In a way, you get to step back in time.”
Before his super-G race, Mr. Morse shared an Instagram video documenting his ascent to a breathtaking, unnamed natural bath. In the caption, he mused, “Best way to take your mind off Olympic pressure? Climb a mountain, sit in a hot springs, and soak in the views.”
He later mentioned that the stunning location, which he had first seen in a picture from Swiss skier Marco Odermatt (who earned two silver medals and a bronze at these Games), drew criticism from locals. They chided him for revealing a secluded spot requiring a challenging and potentially perilous climb.
“They really do not want tourists trekking up there,” he reiterated.
La pozza, however, is significantly more accessible and widely known, even among fellow Olympians. Birk Ruud, the Norwegian gold medalist in slopestyle, reportedly visited the spot a few days later, as evidenced by an Instagram post from his fiancée.
Bormio’s leaders market their town as “the wellness mountain.”
The pools are tinged with the faint smell of sulfur.
Just as we were about to abandon our search for the well, a young woman graciously offered to guide us. She led us off the main trail, around the narrow edge of a large boulder—a path I would have instinctively avoided—and towards the Adda River. A little further, we found it: a modest, gently steaming pool emerging from the rocks.
All that hiking, for this?
Then, we paused, taking in the tranquil surroundings. A light snow began to fall, and a pair of ibexes rustled through the nearby trees. In that moment, it truly felt as though we had stepped back in time. And, just for a little while, we found our relaxation.