Distracted1

Posted on May 20, 2024 by distracted1

May 16-17-18! Italy 2024

May 13! Italy 2024

May 13! Italy 2024

May 12! Italy 2024

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May 12!

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May the 13^th…

Friday the 13^th … Italians by nature and tradition are somewhat superstitious, hence the preponderance of the corno portafortuna (horn) amulet and the mano conuto symbol. You know the one that looks like a hand with a raised index and pinky… both worn to protect against the evil eye (malocchio) and general misfortune.

Now I’m not particularly superstitious but when I thought about the steep, curvy, one lane, two way road down the mountain and I realized it was Friday the 13^th, well the superstitious Italian gene in me shifted nervously… “Oh don’t be silly” I said to me, “you have a fancy car and the all knowing google map to lead you!”

So, off we go. We need groceries, lunch and we want to wander the town a bit.

The trip down wasn’t as scary as going up. The thing is, if you meet a car coming up and there is no room to pass, the car pointing down hill has to back up… up hill… until there is a spot where the car going up hill can pass. It is more than a little nerve wracking. I measured the incline at different points along the route and it runs between 15 and 18 degrees of slope. outdoor stairs in public spaces range from 5-20 degrees of slope. It doesn’t sound real steep but it sure feels steep.

We get to the bottom without incident so we need to park. We pass the grocery store… and keep going… looking for the blue ‘P’ signs indicating public, paid parking. We finally find what must be the main parking for the whole town. 2 euro per hour. Not bad. We’re about 5 or 6 blocks from the grocery so we will have to carry whatever we get back to the car… that certainly changes the wine and beer strategy.

Not sure what’s going on with the rental cars here but I think they have transponders that broadcast their locations and identifying information. You can bop through the toll areas and then just log on with your plate number and pay the tolls. And, when we entered the parking area, the ticket we got at the gate had our plate number printed on it! Hmm…

Lunch first at a marina side cafe. Calzone for me and …. Margarita pizza for D. What a surprise. There is something about the richness of the flavors here. The food relies on the ingredients, usually fresh and mostly organic, for the flavor. It is rarely over seasoned or seasoned all that much at all. The flavors of the ingredients are to point.

We wander and window shop and just enjoy the lake and the mostly tranquil vibe.

And then… groceries. Unless you find one of the large ‘hypermarkets’ which sell everything from bananas to bicycles, or a ‘supermarket’ which is more like a D&W or Kroger or A&P… you will find yourself in a grocery store. This one is about 800-1000 square feet total including the displays blocking the sidewalk. All the staples but not a lot of options. Isles that you have to turn sideways in but fresh fruits and veggies, good looking cheese and meat counter, an odd selection of beer, and enough wine to get you through.

A tiny selection of toiletries and cleaning supplies, 4 different kinds of diapers. And that about covers it. We load up our reusable shopping bags with enough for the next couple of days and trundle away towards where we think the car is parked.

Another thankfully uneventful ascent of the mountain and it’s time for a little pre-dinner nuthin’. Vacation mood, read a book, watch the birds, empty the mind…

We figured out the induction cook top and think we figured out the symbols on the oven, whatever we did we did end up with roast chicken and green beans for dinner at about 8pm. Getting on the continental schedule finally.

12 May,

Back on the road again… eventually.

We wake early, well vacation early, to tidy up and pack. The usual coffee and yogurt on the balcony.

We are ready by 9:30am, we are supposed to check out at 10:00. The cleaning lady, Marisa, is sitting on the bench in the entrance hall when I start taking things out to the car. I tell her that she can go on up and get started but she refuses until we are done.

Now every rental arrangement is different, especially if there is designated parking included. Parking is precious in Italy and so there are always gates and codes and keys and procedures. In this case, when you leave you are supposed to open the gate which only works with a key, pull into the street, double park in the street then go back into the apartment and either give the key to Marisa or leave it under the mat.

So, what doesn’t work is if you give Marisa the keys before you pull out of the parking area because there is also a gate to get into the building which requires one of the keys on the ring you don’t have any more. So you and all your stuff are stuck in the parking area… you can’t leave and you can’t get back in the building. What do you do? Well duh, you stand under the window like Brando’s Stanley K in Streetcar Named Desire and call up to the apartment window… “Marisa?!” until the guy in the apartment above pokes his head out and buzzes you in so you can get the key. Not embarrassing at all right?

Well, it’s not really, I’ll never see any of these people again… what do I care if they think I’m a few sticks short of a campfire.

Off we go.

The route that google picks is right along the coast. Ever so pretty in the sunshine with the mountains on the right and the sheer drops to the left. A typical very twisty 1-1/2 lanes wide, two way road. Fun!

The thing that I find a little different this time is the quantity of bicycles. Italians LOVE their bicycles. They get all suited up in their spandex with team names and fancy biking shoes that actually mechanically attach to the pedals of their fancy bikes and off they go. Alone or in packs, they ride on every kind of road except the largest highways. One must be always aware that you might come up on a cyclist as you round a blind corner in the skinny twisty mountain roads. The Italian drivers seem to take this all in stride and the cyclists obviously are not expecting the five foot passing rule. Cars pass bikes with a foot of space or even less on a regular basis. But everyone seems to be on the same page so it seems to work. For me, it’s all rather disconcerting.

So as we enter one of many kilometers long tunnels through the mountains, yes, there are bikes cruising along in the right lane… no lights, no reflectors, not even single file sometimes. I refer to these folks as suicyclists.

We stop for lunch at a roadside place called Pitstop. Maybe 6 tables, no ambiance but LOADS of character. Mostly in the form of Gaetano, the single server, bartender, busboy, entertainment, etc.

D orders what turns out to be a very large bruschetta. A piece of fresh baked bread the size of a plate covered in tomato, oil, herbs etc. I order a panuozzo… another version a panini. Oh, and a plate of “French fries” to share. (We have both been craving French fries for some reason…) Both were delicious. But before we go we “absolutely MUST try the fresh every morning deserts” the best of course being the Tette della Monache… Ok ok, one to share… it was very tasty.

“Thank you Gaetano“

“How about a limoncello? Is house made… is very good… is free”

“Oh no… thank you, we have to drive still.”

“pfff.”

Two glasses are presented… two glasses are raised and, it WAS quite good.

Off we go fat and happy.

Google doesn’t seem to know where this next place is so we enter a spot we know is close and figure we can follow our paper maps when we get to that point. Yup… nope.

Between roads being restricted for school traffic and detours for construction we only get lost twice-ish. We finally find our way and the map looks right and the google lady seems convinced but the ROAD does NOT look right. We turn around and study the map and the google and turn back around and just go for it. It is STEEP and twisty and narrow and two way. All the best things about Italian driving.

Sure enough we find the place just as they cleaning folks are finishing up.

The view is as stunning as the pictures. The place is perfect for two people even though it has beds for 6! There’s a cool outdoor fireplace for cooking and an outdoor dining area.

One of the bathrooms is a little scary in that it is a wet bathroom, no designated space for the shower so the water can basically go anywhere. Not that unusual but the toilet paper is hanging on the wall right in front of the shower and there are two outlets within about 36 inches of the shower head. Not to mention the electric water heater hanging over your head… I think I’ll use the other shower.

We settle in comfortably however. We have our leftovers from Pitstop for dinner and fade out dog tired after another fun travel day.

Tomorrow it’s back down the mountain for exploring and groceries. Ooh boy.

The day after the last one… 11, May.

3 days in that the sleep schedule seems to be acclimating.

One of the things that we talked about when we were getting ready for this trip was taking more time to just kick back. Over the past 15 trips we have stayed in, toured,visited well over 100 cities, towns, villages, borgos, etc. This year the inclination was to hang out and absorb and enjoy the little things, to try to notice the breezes, the smells, the little old nono walking his little old doggo along the road in front of the apartment every morning.

It’s remarkably difficult to let go of the go-go-go travel mentality. It’s so easy to say, “we’re here! We should see and do as much as we can!” Over the years I’ve come to realize there is a big difference between seeing and doing and really experiencing. It’s about being in the space and being open to the space…

We stroll into town at about 1pm. Gelato to fortify then explore the side streets… like all 8 of them. It comes as a bit of a surprise every day how small Bellagio is for the size of it’s reputation.

Well then, to the ferry ticket office. We wait in line for a good probably 10 minutes before we get to the window. 2 adults to Varenno please. 9 euro, 20. Not bad. 40 minutes of waiting later and listening to people gossip and complain as the crowd gathers in a typical formless gaggle at the gate. There are vastly different cultural ‘norms’ by country or region when it comes to queuing. I don’t think I will name different countries but see if you can guess the country by the behavior.

There are the orderly line folks, there are the looking around like they are oblivious but are really working their way to the front folks, there are the blatant every man for themselves push or be pushed folks, there are the who cares when I get on I have a ticket so I’ll get there folks (very rare) and there are the everyone gather near the front and peacefully get through when there’s a chance folks.

It only takes about 20 minutes to get to Varenno and it’s a nice smooth trip. Lake Como seems to be a very calm lake even when the wind is blowing. Lake Como at 1390 feet deep BTW, is deeper than all the great lakes including Superior by a good 12 feet or so. It was also on the shores of Lake Como, near a town called Dongo that Mussolini and his mistress were captured by partisans in April of 1945 effectively ending the war in Italy.

Verreno is a charming town spread out along the shore. It’s far less fancy pants and more relaxed than Bellagio. 1^st stop, Gelato shop! There are pillows set out on the steps next to the gelato shops for sitting while you eat your ice cream. Very thoughtful I thought. There are a lot of gelato shops in Varenno.

We walk the entire length of the town along the lake shore until we find the primary attraction, Villa Monestero. A former monastery, turned villa in the 1800s, turned museum and botanical garden today.

Not an immense place it has some very interesting quirky things like this crazy bathroom… now I am definitely more of a shower person but if I had a bath like this maybe …

and this embossed leather ‘wallpaper’ is really cool and the art deco theme fits right in right?

A nice leisurely scenic walk back to the ferry dock along the top of the town looking down towards the water. When you don’t have any tours planned or appointments and the ferry runs regularly until 8pm you can stop and look at things… and wonder about why they did this or that or put that gate in front of a solid stone wall… ?

We get to the ticket booth and there is no one in line… how odd. We ask for two adults back to Bellagio. The girl says “Nine euro and 20. 5 minutes at dock 3”. I say, “5 minutes?! No time for a beer?” She says “no, no time.” I push out my lower lip in my most pouty disappointed face and she laughs and hands the ticket through the window.

When we were packing for this trip the extended forecast was low 60s and rainy for at least the first week or so. So far it has been in the high 70s and sunny almost every day. Sooo, I now have 2 new Italian short sleeve polos and a bunch of wrinkly long sleeve shirts still in my suitcase.

Tomorrow we head for the apartment overlooking Lake Garda. This should be an adventure… the address doesn’t even show up on Google Maps or Waze.

Day number next, 10, May

Welp, had a weird case of delayed jet lag last night. My body decided that 10pm Michigan time would be an appropriate time to fall asleep. That’s 4 am Italy time. I guess the ability to make these adjustments changes over time. Never had trouble with jet lag in the past… well nerts.

Ah then, carry on, sleep is for wimps.

The usual coffee on the balcony for me and yogurt for D this morning. Time to do some planning. Planning this morning was really just looking at the map in hopes that we would sort of know where we were when we got there. I’m perfectly comfortable with this kind of ‘plan’ but some folks seem to need a little more detail. That’s what makes for balance.

A bit of leftover pizza for lunch and off we go. First stop, gelato shop!

They were out of coffee flavor… 😦

We stroll through town, watching the crazy, as far as I’m concerned, rather sad, selfie people. They walk down the street, arm aloft at ¾ high watching themselves on that little screen as another famous town slips by in the background. They can say they were here and they think they have proof, but they weren’t really here.

We though we would stay in town until dinner time, but Bellagio is really a pretty small town. We went inside the basilica, we checked out a bunch of shops, we had coffee and tea at a table on the waterfront, and we bought sunscreen and lotion and more lead for my new pencil. That pretty much covers a day in Bellagio.

It’s about 5pm when we head back to the apartment. We’ll have a glass of wine on the balcony, note in our notebooks and head back down around 7:30, a proper time for dinner.

The place is called La Bellagina. Just a little place on the side of the road but it has a remarkably extant menu. We head up to the terrace level. Ooh, fancy. There are windows all along the lake side view and they are open to the breeze. D has the Scallopini al Limone, a perennial favorite and required at least once every time we are in Italy. Entrecote per mio. (grilled beef with tomatoes, arugula, etc.) It was perfectly done and tender. Mmm, yum. A tasty young Barbera to wash it down.

The room has 18 tables that seat 75 to 80 people. There is 1 waitress. Her name is Nicol and she is the only server, busser and bartender. She is upbeat, funny, fast, efficient and handles the whole room like a pro. In Italy food service is considered a legit, respectable career. It’s not just something to do while you are in school or until you get a ‘real’ job. Nicol recommends the hybrid panna cotta/tiramisu for desert… It was AMAZING!

The sun sets as we waddle back up the hill to the apartment. Lights twinkle on across the lake and I could get used to this real fast.