A day in Acqui Terme — hot springs, Roman stones & Brachetto
Sulphurous water at 75°C in the middle of town, Roman arches across the valley, and the sweet red they only make well around here — one unhurried day in Piemonte's thermal capital.
Steam rises off a marble kiosk at the end of Via Saracco, and the water coming out of it is hot enough that everyone warns you not to touch it. This is La Bollente, the sulphurous spring at the heart of Acqui Terme, running at around 75°C the way it has since the Romans called this place Aquae Statiellae. The whole town orbits it. Give it a day and you can have the springs, the Roman stones and a glass of Brachetto without rushing any of them.
Breakfast on a cloud
Start where the locals do, at Pasticceria Le Bollentine. The couple behind the counter invented the bollentina — a croissant leavened with the town's thermal water instead of butter, so light that regulars talk about biting into a cloud. Have it filled: pistachio or salted caramel if you're sweet in the morning, salmon if you're not. The coffee's good and the prices are fair, which is all you want before a day on your feet.
The thermal heart, then the Roman valley
Walk the two minutes back to La Bollente and take it in properly — waft the mineral notes up, the way people do, and read the town off the square around it. The IAT tourist office runs a guided walk of thermal Acqui from right here, and some routes carry on into the Roman town, out to the amphitheatre and the calidarium of the old baths. It costs nothing to see; you just arrange it through the office first. If it's a Tuesday, the street market fills the centre and the morning takes care of itself.
Then head down to the river for the Acquedotto Romano. The surviving arches — roughly two thousand years old, once part of a twelve-kilometre run bringing water down from the hills — are among the best-kept Roman remains in northern Italy, and they stride right across the Bormida valley. It's a fair walk out from the centre, so it's worth timing: the park has benches, a playground and cycle paths, and the arches photograph best as the sun drops. There's no charge; they simply stand in a public park.
The castle and its small museum
Back up in town, the Castello dei Paleologi is the brick fortress on the low hill, named for the Palaiologos dynasty that ran Monferrato for centuries. The grounds are free to walk — a small botanical garden dotted with sculpture, and a panoramic view over the rooftops that's reason enough to climb up. Inside is the Civico Museo Archeologico, a compact run from prehistory to the Middle Ages through Roman lamps and everyday objects, with a friendly caretaker and a barcode audio guide for a couple of euros. It's a twenty-minute stop, the labels lean Italian, and the hours can be unreliable — so check before you count on it.
Lunch up the hill
For lunch, drive up out of the centre to Cittu Bai, perched on the hill with the whole valley laid out below. The draw is the focaccia al formaggio — the thin, molten Recco-style kind that people here call the best they've had — alongside crisp thin-crust pizza, wild-mushroom pasta and fried-fish starters. It's full of locals, always the reliable sign, the prices are honest (most plates €10–20), and there's plenty of open-air seating for a slow one.
Afternoon: mud, or gelato, or both
The afternoon is for the thing the town is actually named for. Terme di Acqui is the official establishment, drawing on two hot-spring sources for the fangoterapia — thermal mud therapy — that Acqui is known for, plus inhalation treatments and a monumental 1932 pool. Cures book through the Terme, so confirm what's running before you turn up; it's more medical spa than lazy afternoon, and worth knowing that going in.
If that's not your speed, do the passeggiata instead and end it at Cremeria Visconti. It's the town's gelateria of choice, with forty-odd flavours that taste true — order pear and you get ripe pear, and even the plain fior di latte is judged right. There's a sheltered corner to sit out on the square, and if you're feeling extravagant the sundaes are worth doing once.
Brachetto, the local secret
No day here is complete without the wine, and Acqui's is Brachetto d'Acqui DOCG — a pale-ruby, faintly strawberry red, sweet and low in alcohol, poured cold with dessert and underestimated by nearly everyone. Learn it at the Enoteca Regionale, down in the vaulted 16th-century cellars of Palazzo Robellini, where a sommelier pours you a themed flight — a Brachetto masterclass or a wider Piemonte line-up — usually with local salami and cheese. Reckon on €20–25 for a couple of hours; book a slot ahead, and there's an English tasting some Saturdays if your Italian's shaky.
If you'd rather see it made, Cuvage on the edge of town does the other side of Acqui's wine story: metodo classico sparkling, second fermentation in the bottle the way Champagne does it, since 2011. Their cellar tour and tasting runs about two hours — three glasses for €20, five for €25 — but they're closed Sunday and Monday and the reservation's obligatory, so email visit@cuvage.com first. Come for the Alta Langa and stay for the Brachetto.
Dinner, and the wine list that talks
End the day back up in the hills at Terzo Tempo al Cascinone. The seasonal Piemontese menu runs long, the ravioli are superb and the slow-cooked pork gorgeous, but the real show is the wine: the waiter announces "I'm the wine list" and finds the right local bottle for your plate, and the bill at the end tends to be the last happy surprise of the evening. Leave room for the hazelnut tart. It gets loud and it's usually full, so book — and ask Cristiano's team what's just come off the pass.
Time it right and the town does the rest. In early June, Acqui Terme Romana puts costumed reenactors and a Roman-recipe dinner back on the streets for a weekend. August brings Acqui Wine Days, Brachetto and Moscato poured among the ruins with tango under the stars and a wine-and-astronomy night up at the castle. And every October the Premio Acqui Storia, one of Italy's oldest history-book prizes since 1968, quietly fills the Teatro Ariston. Whichever you catch, you'll leave smelling faintly of sulphur, carrying a bottle you didn't plan on.