Nicknamed Cinderella by locals because “it is prettier than its older sister,” Orta is the Italian lake that is more magnificent than Maggiore.

My scusi, can you tell me where I can see the dragon fossil? I ask a priest passing by the 4th century basilica.

I am on the islet of San Giulio in Lake Orta, in northern Piedmont, and legend has it that in 390 AD a Christian preacher sailed away, defeated the monster and began to build this church.

But now the priest points to a sign on the wall that says the fossilized remains are no longer on public view. “Disappointing,” I sigh, as my husband rolls his eyes.

Lake Orta is only 40 kilometers from Milan’s Malpensa airport. While its flashy neighbors Lake Maggiore and Lake Como, havens for the rich and famous, get much more tourist attention, Milanese like it that way. They refer to Lake Orta as La Cenerentola (Cinderella) because “it is much prettier and more virgin compared to its older sisters.”

Dragons or not, on the boat to the island from the medieval town of Orta San Giulio, low, melancholy clouds hang between the mountain and the lake and the bells of Benedettina Mater Ecclesiae ring.

Home to 75 nuns, Isola San Giulio (just 900 feet long and 450 feet wide) is nicknamed the Island of Silence, and the thoughtful abbess has created a circular meditation walk. The signs encourage contemplative moments, such as “The walls are in the mind” and “Listen to the water, the wind, your steps.”

Back on dry land, La Darbia hotel is hidden in the forest between the lake and the Monte Rosa mountain, with water views over its small vineyard. Its 20 apartments are stone-walled and rustic, in keeping with repurposed farmhouses, and guests receive a welcome cake that sets the tone for the fabulous food on offer.

The restaurant is run by Matteo Monfrinotti, who, without being a chef, is not grand enough to hang up his coat. I order the vegetarian ‘From the Garden’ tasting menu (something of an anomaly in a region known for its rich, meaty dishes) and receive the chef’s thumbs up. “It’s easy to cook beef or fish,” Matteo tells me. “With vegetables you have to be more creative.” The raviolini with chanterelles and the pumpkin cream with hot chocolate sauce and thyme mousse are bursting with autumn flavor.

All the traffic-free narrow streets of Orta San Giulio lead to the lakeside Piazza Motta with its faded houses in pastel shades of ocher, yellow and pink; one of the oldest is the House of the Dwarves, which dates back to the 14th century. A market has been held here on Wednesdays since 1228. I try samples of Barolo wine salami and crumbly gorgonzola, fuel to make the steep cobblestone climb to the Sacro Monte di Orta, a 16th-century devotional path that circles 21 chapels.

Built between 1591 and 1750, the trail tells the story of Saint Francis of Assisi through 376 sculptures and 900 frescoes. The sculptures aren’t the highlight (they’re comically creepy at best), but the chapels are interesting as they trace the Italian architectural style over two centuries, from the Renaissance era to the theatrical Rococo period.

With spectacular lake and mountain views, the Sanctuary of Madonna del Sasso is a stunning white church dominating the western granite cliff. We cover the last kilometers on foot, passing through fields of cows decorated with bells and villages where each house has a reserve of cut firewood.

Back at the lakeside in Pella, the draw is an ice cream from Antica Torre, where chocolate with grappa is one of the more unusual flavors. In Omegna, at the northern end of the lake, there are hiking trails that leave from the town (the most popular is the Anello di Quarna, a circuit through pine forests to panoramic viewpoints of the lake), but it is the Alessi Factory, owned family-owned and famous for its extravagant kitchen utensils. that I’m here to see.

You’ll need an appointment to snoop through the archive containing every design prototype since the 1920s, from pewter coffee pots to the best-selling Juicy Salif (designer Phillipe Starck got inspiration for the iconic lemon squeezer while eating calamari).

Tucked away in the village of Crabbia, Osteria San Martino is a cozy restaurant with a menu as traditional as it gets, from its vague “rabbit osteria style” to the bagna cauda, ​​which I order after hearing something about anchovies. What arrives is delicious: a creamy, bubbly fondue made with anchovies and garlic, served with chopped vegetables for dipping.

Back at La Darbia’s open-air bar, next to the orchard where plump purple eggplants hang and the air smells of rosemary, I watch the clouds roll in and out of the valley and wait for the next big reveal of the lake and mountains, watching that there really is no need for dragons when the landscape is so special.