Things I love about Italy:
1. The Food. Sorry, rest of Europe, but when it comes to immediately accessible, in-yer-face, don't-have-to-know-a-local-to-get-it, consistently good food, Italy wins HANDS DOWN.
2. The accent. Hilarious.
3. Foot-operated flushes in public toilets. Hoorah.
Things I don't love about Italy:
1. The bloody prices. Jeeeez... probably not an awful lot worse than London prices and probably more obvious because I'm coming from a fellow Euro-using country so can't baffle myself with mental exchange rates, but even so. €5 for a teeny glass of wine, when I'm used to paying €2 for a whole bottle is crazymad.
2. The vast numbers of American tourists. I'm sorry, I don't mean to have a go at a whole nation but seriously U S of A residents, can't you pipe down a bit? I mean, seriously, just....ssshhhhhh.
3. The way cars don't stop when you're waiting to cross the road at a zebra crossing. Rude.
Had a lovely couple of days. Yesterday I got on a boat to Bellagio. Lake Como is shaped like a headless, armless man standing with his legs apart, and Bellagio is situated where his willy would be. It's widely considered to be the most beautiful town on Lake Como, but having been spewed off the boat with all the other (largely American) tourists straight into a plethora of leather handbag shops, Como silk scarf shops and ice cream shops, I beg to differ. Varenna is better.
Bellagio is definitely lovely, but it's just a bit much. Too many people for my liking, even at this time of year, so I beat a hasty retreat and walked to the very tip of the promontory; the anus of the headless, armless man, aptly named Punta Spartivento (point where the wind splits). It was lovely and peaceful there, with wonderful views towards the northern part of the lake and the mountains and I considered having lunch in the little restaurant but it turned out that every table was reserved, or maybe they just didn't like the look of me, so I wandered back to town, and meandered up and down alleys until I found a likely looking old pizzeria and had a most delicious lunch of penne al salmone. Grace Gable eat your heart out.
Afterwards I got a chestnut and vanilla ice cream (not sure about chestnut ice-cream tbh) and wandered south to visit the villa and gardens of Villa Melzi, which was very pleasant, but certainly nothing to write home about.
*Pointedly stops writing home about it*
I got the boat back to Varenna and had a nice aperitif in a quayside bar, before coming back to the apartment and catching up on a load of shite on iPlayer on my laptop. (Christ, Downton's a bit thin on plot, isn't it? Lovely frocks though.)
Today I got the boat over to Tremezzo on the opposite side of the lake and spent a couple of hours wandering the house and gardens of Villa Carlotta. NOW you're talking. It was magnificent. But if you're ever going to come here to see the gardens, come in April (would be my advice) - the azaleas must be fantastic at that time of year.
Then I decided to walk south for some lunch, and on the way I managed to get myself onto the 'Greenway del Lago' which is a nice pathway up above and behind the towns, which avoids traffic. I was hoping to visit the spot where Mussolini actually copped it, whilst trying to escape into Switzerland at the end of the war (a bit macabre, I know, but I'm not fond of fascists), and felt sure the Greenway del Lago would deliver me to it, but it didn't, sadly. Walked MILES and ended up at Lenno, where I had a late lunch of lasagne and then jumped on the boat back to Varenna.
Since I've been here I've noticed an awful lot of people drinking a vile orange drink that looks like toxic Lucozade, and thanks to an incidental chat with my friend (Nick Harris) I discovered that it's an aperitif widely drunk in these here parts, called Spritz. It's prosecco and the local spirit, Aperol, on ice. It looks ghastly but I had one this evening and it's DELICIOUS. I'm going to buy a bottle of Aperol to take home.
I heard on the indirect internet grapevine that my dear husband, currently enjoying a jolly in the Algarve but without a wifi device so not in direct contact, fell over whilst pissed last night and has hurt his shoulder. In truth, I think he drew the very very short straw. I'm looking forward to a cup of tea, a booze-free early night and ten hours solid sleep.
Although that's not all that easy with your passport shoved down your knickers.
1. The Food. Sorry, rest of Europe, but when it comes to immediately accessible, in-yer-face, don't-have-to-know-a-local-to-get-it, consistently good food, Italy wins HANDS DOWN.
2. The accent. Hilarious.
3. Foot-operated flushes in public toilets. Hoorah.
Things I don't love about Italy:
1. The bloody prices. Jeeeez... probably not an awful lot worse than London prices and probably more obvious because I'm coming from a fellow Euro-using country so can't baffle myself with mental exchange rates, but even so. €5 for a teeny glass of wine, when I'm used to paying €2 for a whole bottle is crazymad.
2. The vast numbers of American tourists. I'm sorry, I don't mean to have a go at a whole nation but seriously U S of A residents, can't you pipe down a bit? I mean, seriously, just....ssshhhhhh.
3. The way cars don't stop when you're waiting to cross the road at a zebra crossing. Rude.
Had a lovely couple of days. Yesterday I got on a boat to Bellagio. Lake Como is shaped like a headless, armless man standing with his legs apart, and Bellagio is situated where his willy would be. It's widely considered to be the most beautiful town on Lake Como, but having been spewed off the boat with all the other (largely American) tourists straight into a plethora of leather handbag shops, Como silk scarf shops and ice cream shops, I beg to differ. Varenna is better.
Bellagio is definitely lovely, but it's just a bit much. Too many people for my liking, even at this time of year, so I beat a hasty retreat and walked to the very tip of the promontory; the anus of the headless, armless man, aptly named Punta Spartivento (point where the wind splits). It was lovely and peaceful there, with wonderful views towards the northern part of the lake and the mountains and I considered having lunch in the little restaurant but it turned out that every table was reserved, or maybe they just didn't like the look of me, so I wandered back to town, and meandered up and down alleys until I found a likely looking old pizzeria and had a most delicious lunch of penne al salmone. Grace Gable eat your heart out.
Afterwards I got a chestnut and vanilla ice cream (not sure about chestnut ice-cream tbh) and wandered south to visit the villa and gardens of Villa Melzi, which was very pleasant, but certainly nothing to write home about.
*Pointedly stops writing home about it*
I got the boat back to Varenna and had a nice aperitif in a quayside bar, before coming back to the apartment and catching up on a load of shite on iPlayer on my laptop. (Christ, Downton's a bit thin on plot, isn't it? Lovely frocks though.)
Today I got the boat over to Tremezzo on the opposite side of the lake and spent a couple of hours wandering the house and gardens of Villa Carlotta. NOW you're talking. It was magnificent. But if you're ever going to come here to see the gardens, come in April (would be my advice) - the azaleas must be fantastic at that time of year.
Then I decided to walk south for some lunch, and on the way I managed to get myself onto the 'Greenway del Lago' which is a nice pathway up above and behind the towns, which avoids traffic. I was hoping to visit the spot where Mussolini actually copped it, whilst trying to escape into Switzerland at the end of the war (a bit macabre, I know, but I'm not fond of fascists), and felt sure the Greenway del Lago would deliver me to it, but it didn't, sadly. Walked MILES and ended up at Lenno, where I had a late lunch of lasagne and then jumped on the boat back to Varenna.
Since I've been here I've noticed an awful lot of people drinking a vile orange drink that looks like toxic Lucozade, and thanks to an incidental chat with my friend (Nick Harris) I discovered that it's an aperitif widely drunk in these here parts, called Spritz. It's prosecco and the local spirit, Aperol, on ice. It looks ghastly but I had one this evening and it's DELICIOUS. I'm going to buy a bottle of Aperol to take home.
I heard on the indirect internet grapevine that my dear husband, currently enjoying a jolly in the Algarve but without a wifi device so not in direct contact, fell over whilst pissed last night and has hurt his shoulder. In truth, I think he drew the very very short straw. I'm looking forward to a cup of tea, a booze-free early night and ten hours solid sleep.
Although that's not all that easy with your passport shoved down your knickers.
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