When a part of the world is as dominated by mountains as Trentino in Italy’s glorious north undeniably is, it can be easy to forget there are four seasons in every year.

Standing in late winter atop the tangle of ski runs that drape themselves conveniently across the precipitous slopes above the town of Madonna di Campiglio, casting an appreciative eye over a far-reaching blanket of crisp white snow ever so slightly yellowed by the drifting sands of the Sahara Desert blown in from afar on invisible winds, and shadowed by the towering peaks of the Dolomite mountains behind me and Alps in front, it’s hard to conceive how this would all look outside of winter’s icy grip.