Italy

July 14, 2019  by

The many faces of Venice

Our adventure to Venice was planned with the intent of determining how much more existed to this famed city other than the Grand Canal and island hopping to Murano. Because of my stint in the Verona Hospital and recovery time, our schedule was cut radically short, so we knew going in this was going to be fast and furious. We needed focus. We needed energy and we needed good walking shoes!

One view from the top of the first canal as you leave either parking, train or cab drop off
Arrival and parking

If you arrive between 11 and 3, you are unlikely to get parking in the main drop off area, so be safe, park, and walk the quarter mile over the bridge into Venice. If you arrive late afternoon, then you’ll likely get parking right in the center, which is what we did. Two structures exist: one for short term (2 hours) and the other for long term. A single lane road is the only way to access both, but it’s short, about one feet in length. It’s a bit of a bottleneck, but an attendant stands to guide traffic, and if you want the two-hour, zip right and you are in. Payment is made when you leave, at the counter located at the entrance, so take your ticket and go on your way.

Nary a gondola or waterway taxi to be seen, and this is about two canals away from the drop off point.

When you arrive in Venice, either by car, train or boat, it may take a moment to notice the absence of bikes, a common site around Europe, not just Italy. In Venice, two-wheeled vehicles aren’t allowed, nor cars, which must be parked in one of several structures either outside the primary bridge to the island. Once off the long bridge to Venice, you will see a multi-story building, and parking spaces are identified by a space counter. We head others complaining about the lack of transportation on Venice, evidently expecting bike or scooter rentals and/or cabs, so I thought to write a note about this for the uninitiated.

This is actually the best shot of “the first” canal bridge in the upper right–you can see it leads several directions, and then down on lanes on either side of the canal proper.
Train

The train service is crazy good, although we didn’t need to take it. Multiple trains coming and going drop and pick up throughout the day, directly to this main area, where people in streams unload. One aspect that’s nice (and little known) is the cruise ships are on the other side of Venice, unloading at the docks. This means those arrive by car or train enjoy a much less crowded experience and more leisurely pace than the hoards of cruise lines passengers. The downside (isn’t there always a downside) is those of us in this area must walk a greater distance to reach the Grand Canal, if that’s the ultimate destination.

Less than 5 minutes from the cab and train drop off is this one and only gondola offering in this area. At 6 at night, it’s walk right up and in.
Walking the blocks

If you want to start off with a gondola ride, it’s less than five minutes from either the parking or train station right down to the only gondola. It has two slots, but when people are waiting, gondolas seemed to magically appear, leading us to believe a radio operator is ever ready to call in reinforcements. If a water tour is more to your liking, you will have to search elsewhere, for while many go by, the pickup/dropoff points aren’t in this zone.

To the right is right where you walk after parking/taxi or train drop off. Across the water are tables filled with evening diners. Not all streets have cafes next to the water–only some, and why the reasoning is a mystery.

With our feet as our guide, we started from the parking station to the first intersection of two canal bridges and a canal pathway. Our first stop was gelato, a must-have on a journey. One block down, another canal, turned left (because we could) and continued forth, zigging and zagging down every alley and main street, up and over a multitude of canal bridges. Going back to the no-bikes rule, even if they were allowed, bikes wouldn’t be much use: the bridges are steps, not smooth surfaces like Chioggia. Food services and goods deliveries are all done by ferry, mostly in the middle of the night and early morning when the tourists have long gone.

One block in, and on the right is a regular lane with more cafes. What you don’t see (or hear) was a man singing Italian tunes and playing a guitar rather romantically.
Another eatery partially hidden behind a iron gate, but open to the public.
Gyms and graffiti

Where do you walk down a canal, under the red brick archways into an open-door gym? Venice, obviously. And any respectable gym must have hip hop music blasting in order to use the weights and cardio machines located five feet from the front desk. It didn’t hurt the visual that the setting sun made the entire street and canal an orange red. In fact, it blended right in with the coloring within the gym itself.

Ok, really? Have you ever seen a blog on Venice post a picture of a gym? Neither had I, so this is it, and a rather glamorous looking one at that, don’t you think? And yes, about a half dozen folks were working out.

Around another corner and through an incredibly narrow street, the avenue opened into a triangular shape and a soccer ball came hurling towards my legs. A boy darted in front of me, kicked the back to his friend, the impromptu soccer game between four youth between ten and twelve seemed strange until I looked up and around. The buildings were decidedly familial, bars and crusted paint falling off and mail-slips. It was a neighborhood, like any other, except on a world-famous island in Italy.

And this! It shocked me more than the gym, because people want to look good, but the city fathers can’t take the time to remove graffiti, and worse, people desecrate the area? I’m all for artistic murals, but this doesn’t qualify.

As we continued the journey, a single avenue changed the entire experience: backstreet soccer game, graffiti-covered metal grates then a beautiful canal with upscale restaurants, then and open square full of hipsters and chill out music and back again. All this still a half a mile away from the Grand Canal main drag, and nary a non-Italian in view (except us). Because we arrived at about 6 p.m., our day spent in Chioggia to the south, the freedom of movement allowed us to cover a lot more ground had it been wall-to-wall tourists.

Think of this as the Venice outskirts, still good real estate with boats outfront but perhaps without the murals on the ceilings.
Just like every other big city

Where one lane is merchants, another is residences, some grand, but most not. Short, narrow doors are not images of Venice blasted around the world. If you’d not been to Venice before, it would be natural to believe every home is a three-story villa with hand-painted mosaics on the ceiling with gold leaf encrusted chandeliers. We watched a woman holding a bag full of groceries pull out her key, open and enter an unassuming door, her attire professional attire resembling a bank teller or shop keeper.

Like any city, different canals showcase a different style of property, probably reflective of the value.

Where in the world was the grocery store? I wondered, becoming completely distracted by the visual of how many canals she had to cross with that single bag. Second to that was imaging the size of the biceps on the average Venician residents. Yes, that’s the kind of thing an author thinks about, or at least, what this author thinks about.

The canal neighborhood where the kids were playing soccer.
Another home where we saw professionals entering and exiting.

This leads to touch on the subject of shopping. Whereas Chioggia had Italian brands with a smattering of name brands, Venice is the opposite: the majority of mercantile are well-known by the average consumer. Of the little overlap I saw, Venice easily had a 40% premium over Chioggia.

Just one street over is shopping and wide lanes, hotels and eateries.
The take away

If you have the time to take in the famous and not-so-famous areas of Venice, definitely do it, otherwise, it’s like thinking all of New York is Broadway, when in fact you have Central Park, Brooklyn and Park Avenue, each one providing a completing different perspective of a grand city. Whereas Chioggia was all Italians, (we didn’t hear another language spoken) Venice was the exact opposite. The streets were packed full of diverse ethnicities and languages with helpful tour guides translating, many also wearing translating devices around their necks.

I’d like to see those well-fed Merchants of Venice squish themselves down this lane.

Unless you are coming in from a boat, the ideal day trip is the morning for Chioggia and afternoon for Venice, thereby missing the worst of the crowds. You’ll be able to compare and contrast your impressions of the most famous seaside town in Italy, and perhaps the least, all in the same paragraph.

Not the Grand Canal, but a regular office buildings where staff park their boats on the water. It gives new meaning to the phrase underground parking.
Feature photo: a typical side canal in Venice.
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July 13, 2019  by

Chioggia: the “local’s” Venice you shouldn’t miss

When the architect and owner of the villa you have rented in Verona says you must visit Chioggia instead of Venice, you listen. First in disbelief (we’d never heard of it), then skepticism (until his architect wife chimes in, agreeing), and finally with an open mind and consideration.

“It’s only forty minutes south of Venice,” Stefano explained, “you must go.” As if sensing our reticence, he and his wife peppered us with the reasons. “It’s older than Venice,” he started. “And it’s a fishing village with real, working people.” Stefano added that Chioggia has the longest beach in Italy, better food and is far cheaper.

“It has the oldest clock in the world,” added his wife. “You will have a much better time in Chioggia. Trust us.”

The oldest clock in world, and in a town we’d never heard of? That sealed the deal.

Off to Chioggia

From Verona, Chioggia is about an hour and forty-five minutes. Long, flat marshes on either side of the low-lying bridge extend until it hit landmass. Coming off the ramp, the first images were…unexpected. Faded paint blended with clothes hanging on windowsills, the boats in the canals long past their prime, fish netting along the sides of the marina.

The main road off the freeway starts to resemble Venice a teeny bit more, only by virtue of the color of buildings, but the style, age and use dramatically differ.

Two rights and we were crossing the first canal bridge. While we’d heard all Stefano and his wife had said regarding an older Venice, we were still expecting….an older Venice.

One of the first views of Chioggia off the freeway. Unexpected, to be sure.

Chioggia is in no way an “older Venice,” if looks meant anything. The buildings aren’t newly painted and bright, but worn with age. Instead of canal boats with a black and white stripe-shirted rower, it’s ocean vessels worthy of a sea storm. The clothes don’t hang just from the window, but lines over the alleyways as well. If you’ve been to Venice, most of what visitors see is bright, perfectly painted and ready for the tourist. It’s only when you get off-off the main drags that you see graffiti (absent in Chioggia) but the homes are still a cosmetic upgrade from Chioggia.

Yes, Chioggia has canals, but it is a regular city as well as you can see.

Then we began to see the other side. Parking was free and plentiful right in the heart of town, exactly twenty feet from the oldest clock in the world. (Venice requires one to park, then walk). Across from the clock, stretching to the water and a mile in the other direction is what Italians call a Piazza- a shopping district. Like Bellagio, outdoor tables, under extended awnings lined the length of the Piazza. The shops are directly behind, the sidewalk totally covered in shade to allow a leisurely shopping experience. Bikes are welcome (not so in Bellagio) and the canals bridges are angled (not with steps, as with Venice) which allows for bikes.

Does this resemble a gondola from Venice to you? It’s so Seattle, I loved it.

The differences in the two towns were becoming apparent.

The world’s oldest clock and two girls from Coeur d’Alene, Idaho.

Clock admired, photos taken and education gained as we learned a replica of the internal mechanisms are in the museum in Verona, but the clock itself is going like a champ.

Not the Grand Canal of Venice, but the intimate, working canal of Chioggia
Time to explore

As we walked, we waited for the beautiful canals full of tourist-filled boats to appear. Nope. Not a one. The canals of Chioggia are not what I’d describe as pretty. They are a bit murky and green. It’s the ocean, seaweed exists and this is a living system, not contrived into a fantasy environment. Bikers rode up and over the canals, fishermen trolled their boats out to sea, and as the sun set, the villagers living in the town began to come out of the homes.

Buildings are further apart, some canals have been modified and the styles are old and new, just like any modern city.

Watching the activity was like going on a first date with a short individual dressed in their parent’s hand-me-downs who was late for the date, only to notice the smooth skin of the face, bright, blue eyes and happy, embracing laugh.

Another working waterway heading to the ocean.

Along a side street, my girls spotted what turned out to be a couture children’s clothing shop at Target prices. We spent about 150 Euros on clothes that would have cost two grand in the States, if we’d been able to find them at all. More shopping followed until we joined a growing number of seniors taking places under the awnings. The crowd was a wonderfully mixed bag of what Dominic Dunn would have called “mature women” in full makeup and big, black and gaudy glasses sitting beside others who embraced their natural, wrinkly selves. They talked as much with their hands as mouths as their husbands in press shirts smoked, making way for continual additions to the group.

A young man, about 14, coming in from a ride, giving it all he can. Not something you’d see in “that other city with the canals.”

It’s not always easy to take photos of strangers, and sometimes, I prefer to sit back and observe, which I did, requiring to you visualize the experience. Yet as I removed my camera to take images of the food, I sensed a weirdness and looked up. Sure enough, a woman, leaning out her window was observing us. It had become a common sight across Italy; an open window with a look-e-loo taking in the scene. Of that, I did take a photo.

The Italian pastime — looking out the window to the piazza below.
A meal worth driving 90 minutes
The Sugar Cafe

Caught that morning, Rog ate a half dozen whole mini octopus, heads still on. It was mixed in his seafood salad, a sight my father would have crawled over shards of glass to sample. The girls had pasta dishes and Rog also ordered a fish carpaccio, which he’d never had before. Different from sushi, the white fish (we never did learn the name), Rog announced the platter size portion to be heaven on earth and consumed the entire thing himself.

Fresh and delightful– caprese (UL), fish tartare (UR) and seafood salad.

Dessert followed on a side-street, everyone having double helpings of gelato in different flavors. By this, our fourth day in Italy, the girls had a fair idea of approximately size and cost. Imagine their delight when the portions were about half again as large, and roughly a third the price of Verona, Soave or San Briccio.

What had evolved from an unexpectedly good first date was now an engagement-level passion with the town of Chioggia.

At the Sugar Café–note all the older folks closest to the storefronts–little groups of 3-5, all gathering, community style for their evening dinnertime social.
The famed beaches

Famous to who? We wondered as we drove the mile from our eatery towards the coastline. As you can see from the pictures, famous to the rest of the world of Italians, not to visitors such as ourselves. From one end to the other, thousands of umbrellas await the flock of crowds expected to descend in the next week as school gets out, then absolute mayhem in August. As we drove along the beachfront, we wondered about parking. While the streets were empty of cars at this time of year, and the inside/beach area parking also practically vacant, it wasn’t hard to image the brutality of high season. For grins, we checked out the parking fees, recalling how the last parking fee we’d paid in downtown Seattle was $12 US for an hour, this had to be comparative, or so we thought. Two hours here on the beach, roadside and 100 feet away is 4.50 Euro. No wonder the Italians in Verona love this town.

The beaches of Chioggia. I had no idea it was Miami, Italian-style. Although, I haven’t seen hundreds of cabanas, umbrellas pools like this in Florida.

We’d fallen in love with Chioggia, and didn’t even know it. As a family, we agreed to go back the following day, conduct more serious shopping and eating, which ultimately, didn’t happen. We all overslept, because we darted up to Venice to catch the setting sun and wander for a few hours. You can compare the two cities by reading the blog on the experience.

Recommendation

Definitely take the few hours to enjoy this essentially unheard of, overlooked and /or ignored town. It will open your eyes to a different side of the Italian world, one truly authentic and in its own way, inspiring and charming.

Feature photo: the canals of Chioggia
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July 13, 2019  by

Locanda ai Capitelli: the best dining in Verona

A family-owned and run B & B at the base of Castle Soave, overlooking the wine country

Two days after the hospital experience, we were up at Soave Castle, finishing up as the rainstorm passed us by. On the way down, we decided to purposefully get lost among the vineyards, driving up and down the roads just to see what’s around the next corner. We were only a few miles into this journey when we spotted a grand building to our right, overlooking three vineyards. The cars lining both sides of the streets was a good sign and we stopped so Rog could jump out and look at the menu. He returned, crestfallen.

Locanda ai Capitelli is located just to the lower left of this photo–but hadn’t found it when we took the drone shot:(

“They have steak tartar, but we aren’t dressed for it.” I looked past him to the elegant stairway and sure enough, the men were in slacks and button-down shirts. It was a stark contrast to his shorts and golf shirt, and our female attire of shorts and light shirts made for sweating, not dining.

“Just go in and ask,” encouraged Porsche, our thirteen-year-old. “It’s Italy.” I had to agree with her, but Rog wasn’t going to bother. He put it in gear and off we went, for about a mile.

“I just have to do it,” he said with resolve, turning around.

Back we went, and sure enough, he came out smiling. “She said ‘of course!’”

Casual elegance without pretension

It turns out the establishment of Locanda ai Capitelli is a bed and breakfast, not just an elegant restaurant. Once inside, we realized the only other diners were in a private room, the main area, about thirty by fifteen in length, was empty.

Perfectly situated on the corner of Castle and wine country is
Locanda ai Capitelli

“It’s early,” I said under my breath. At seven-thirty, it shouldn’t have been a surprise. Dining in Italy starts about eight-thirty, when the heat has waned, showers have been taken and the second part of day begins.

Because of this, we had the undivided attention of the waiter and hostess, Julia, who is the daughter of family/owners of the B & B. A slip of a young woman, sophisticated casual in a black t-shirt and pencil shirt with high-top Converse shoes, Julia is about as millennial as one could be. Perfect command of the language, helpful and happy, yet able to handle even the pickiest of diners who started to come in as we were half-way through our appetizers.

The best meal in Italy—so far

Even though I couldn’t eat much, I tried a bit of every dish. The octopus in cream sauce sounded completely odd, but I ordered it anyway, along with the carpaccio. We also decided upon the black truffle linguini with clams, another of the same without the clams, a chicken dish, Roger’s steak tartar and I asked for the gnocchi with peas and trout. Weird, I know, but it was calling my name.

Octopus in cream sauce. One bite was all it took for us to agree it was the best we’d ever had, and that’s saying something.

“Just a bite,” I promised Rog.

As each plate arrived, Julia described the cows on the family farm from whence her mother and grandmother made the ricotta and parmesan cheeses, the desserts and cream sauces. The pigs down the road supplied the prosciutto, and the farm in back were to thank for the herbs and spices. When she’d gone, Rog quipped the very porcelain plates and silverware were probably forged in the basement. I’m not a food critic, and worry my descriptions won’t do the cuisine justice. Suffice it to say we loved every dish, wishing we had the stomachs to order more. I will note my freshly-made gnocchi was the best I’ve ever eaten, the trout was perfectly cooked in little bits, set off with the light, white cream and sweet peas. I wanted to lick the plate, but had to suffice with my spoon due to the recent stomach issues.

Gnocchi with trout and peas (UL) chicken fettuccini (UR) and steak tartar. Exquisite.

By the time we reached dessert, being hungry wasn’t the consideration. The family just couldn’t stop. We had a dessert sampler plate, along with the tiramisu. Now, I don’t get violent often, but when someone attempts to snack on my dessert, I’ve been known to stab with my knife, not enough to blood, but to warn the offending party off.

This time around, my inability to do more than taste undoubtedly prevented blood from being spilled, but it surely would have under different circumstances. The tiramisu was creamy, sweet but not overly so. I could wax philosophic but won’t.

Clean elegance in the wine country. Not pictured is a private dining room to the left of the entrance (where the man is standing).

Our meal was so decadent, the atmosphere elegant but not stuffy, Rog just had to inquired about the rates. 90 Euro a night for a room with accommodations for two. Imagine that: a room with a view overlooking the wine fields of Verona in front and to either side, the Castle Soave in the upper left, and a five-star restaurant below (the Gerdes rating system).

That’s a whole lotta love and cream poured into this tiramisu. Divine.
A family affair

When we paid the bill, the dining room was full and Julia joked about opening a restaurant in the States. “Sure,” Rog readily agreed. “As long as we can bring you, your mother and grandmother over to run it.” That led to me to ask if I could take a picture with my new friend. At the foyer, she met us with her mother.

“Grandmother is already in bed,” Julia explained apologetically. Kisses and hugs were forthcoming, the warmth of a family who put their life and love into their food and accommodations enveloping us.

The females of the gang, moms and daughters alike (Julia to my right)
Recommendation

If you’re already going to Verona, you must add Locanda ai Capitelli to the list. While I can’t speak to the accommodations, I will tell you it’s on our list for the next trip. When you arrive, give a special hug of love to Julia and her mother for us, and order the gnocchi and tiramisu. Well, order it all, because if you don’t, you will wish you had.

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July 13, 2019  by

A visit to Castle Soave in Verona’s wine country

The hidden gems of Castle Soave

After three days in Bellagio and Lake Como, we were ready to head out of town. Because of the location we chose and the general road challenges that exist on Bellagio (no cabs allowed, only car and driver, walking or bike, and of course, parking limitations) we grew fatigued of trying to avoid getting hit as we squished ourselves against the walls as cars zipped by. And while I don’t mind a periodic good look at the rock wall now and then, when I can make out individual strands of grass as Rog tries to avoid oncoming traffic, it’s time to go.

The drive to Verona from Bellagio, Italy a straight and easy one, with the exception of several road construction projects that weren’t identified on either Google maps or our internal GPS system. It wasn’t a serious problem, but annoying when you lose ten minutes here and there.

In the San Briccio valley of Verona, heading up to our rented villa. This is a northwest facing view.
The heart of wine country

Located on the outskirts of Verona, both towns of San Briccio and Soave (pronounced So-ahh-veh), are both identified as Verona, and a suburb within. As such, the town is listed, and as a (VR) behind it. It would be like saying Russian Hill in San Francisco and the signs reading: Russian Hill (SF). The Italians make it easy so locals and foreigners alike understand where they are at all the time.

San Briccio is about fifteen minutes outside the center of Verona. The owners of the three-story villa we rented are both architects, and lived in this home as they raised their two children. When the kids became teens, the family moved into Verona proper, the “scenic” drive through the mountain roads too much, especially during high traffic times where the drive is more like forty.

The hilltop homes of San Briccio offer a 360 degree view of the valleys below–stretching northeast of Verona, pictured above.

Winding up from the valley through acres of non-stop wine fields, to the mountain top offering a panoramic, 360-degree view of the San Briccio valley below. We could see the neighboring town of Soave, and the fortress castle in the distance.

Free parking on the street (hurray), walking over a canal (upper left), the mainstreet at 4 p.m. in the Castle Soave township (upper right) and the walk to the end of the street. The building at the left is where you turn right, walk up a 1/16th of a mile and you are at the caretakers home.

On both sides of the hill are miles of wine fields, the area producing dozens of brands of vino. The surrounding hills have been cultivated in stair-stepped manner to provide the largest yield. We can appreciate the effort and beauty even if we don’t drink the stuff, but our wildest culinary dreams were met with the food, so don’t cry for me Argentina, we haven’t gone without.

From the caretakers home (left) and the less-than-steep walk from the lower village (right).
Castle Soave

Today, the privately-owned castle has a caretaker who lives on the property in a converted sentry house with his German shepherd. The entry fee for four, two adults and two children was 24 Euros (adults 8, children 4). The walk up from town is short and steep, but not too bad compared to all that we’ve ever done thus far. Once at the entry station, it’s less than a hundred feet to the primary entrance.

Set on the highest hill, Castle Soave’s fortress walls extend around the town of Soave proper, which is now converted shops and restaurants, although it’s home to several thousand full-time residents lucky enough to live with castle and wine country views.

Why it’s called a castle is unknown to all of us. The lone attendant within the Captain’s private chambers told us Castle Soave was used for centuries a military fortress for several reasons to protect the town from the neighboring community. It was originally built in the 10th century, the twenty-five-foot-high, two-foot-thick rock walls were built around the town to defend against an attack. Within the highest reaches, two floors exist; one for the Captain (the Italian version of a General) and then a lower level, rather small room for the guards. The remaining part of the rampart was all watchtowers and fighting stations.

From this areal view shot by my drone, you get an idea of the size of Soave proper, the fortress wall a clear line of demarcation.

The armory and guards station is rather small, with attendant saying the room slept only five guards at a time. The rest were on duty around the clock. The Captains private floor has four gracious rooms, the foyer, where he received his soldiers and visitors, his table and three-seat bench in front of a floor to ceiling fireplace. To the left is his bedroom, the ornate bed, armoir and facilities far fancier than the Prince’s rooms in Germany and Switzerland. The Italians knew how to carve a thousand years back! To the right of the foyer is the eating area then library. Up the steps from the library is the Captains private garden, a spot of greenery where he could presumably plot his next battle plan. To the left is the escape door which isn’t concealed at all. If the man needed to use it, speed was the factor, not illusion.

This is the Captain’s escape door off his private garden. It’s thought never to have been used. Little factoid: the last Captain murdered the ruling family in cold blood, ruled himself for 20 years, then was killed in battle with the sword. Served him right.
My favorite part

The best part of this inner military area was the prison. Approximately 100 feet high, all capital punishment was conducted in this chamber of death. The top three floors (each with levels) were designated for nastiness (beheadings, dismemberment etc.) and the bottom floor was essentially the pit where the castoffs, sometimes entire bodies, were thrown down. Then every so often, they’d light the fire, but nary a phoenix would rise from those ashes. The tour guide told us that when the castle was opened to the public, human bones dating from the 1300’s were found.

It was a bad day for a prisoner who displeased the ruling Captain.
The weather in wine country

We didn’t know the afternoon rains so common in Switzerland were equivalent in Italy. We were up on the ramparts, looking down to the valley when it started dumping. From the highest rampart, where we walked the Captains private gardens and escape door leading directly out of the castle, down to his entrance, we were soaked through. But it was so warm that our clothes were dry and hair frizzy when we reached the car.

The upper courtyard, and steps leading to the Captain’s private quarters. The door below is for the soldiers who rotated eating and sleeping shifts in groups of five.

With the weather once again cooperating, we walked the streets, enjoyed our second serving of gelato and appreciated yet another town that seems to have been passed over by every tourist, “influencer” and Trip Advisor writer.

The Captain’s private dining room (upper left) the guards rooms (upper right) and the first courtyard leading to the upper courtyard.
What I’ve loved about the area

Finding a castle that’s rarely written about, seeing miles and miles of Verona, the old and new, past and present.

The Castle less-visited: with tourists sparse, no ticketing agent, metal detector or guide. Just walk up to the care takers office (where he sits with his dog on the floor) Upper left. The second doorway has a downgate, not a drawbridge, but includes a standard door for good measure. Me squatting so you can see the better view of the town behind me.
What I haven’t

The bugs! Oh. My. Gosh. Why hasn’t a single person in the history of man written about the ‘no-see’ems’ that come out when the heat of the day starts to ebb, changing from blistering to merely humidly hot? It’s so bad that in the thirty seconds it took to walk from my car to the front door, I got nailed by seven little wizards of torture. When we were at the pharmacy to pick up my prescriptions (from the next blog on the unexpected Italian hospital visit I had to make the second day here), the pharmacist asked if we’d been bitten at all, and we nodded vigorously. She produced a tube of cream that I have carried everywhere for three days, applying to the red dots of purgatory on all of our skin.

Recommendation

You don’t need to be a lover of wine to enjoy and appreciate Verona. It’s centrally located to zip down to Milan, over to Venice and not far from Lake Como. We are headed next to Salzburg, Austria, which is about as far as either Milan and Lake Como at three and a half hours. Definitely plan a few days, perhaps at a bed and breakfast or home to really soak up the local culture.

Feature photo: shot from the village walking up.
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July 11, 2019  by

Bellagio, Lake Como

As we hit the hills around Lake Como, the longer switch-backs now single-lane, curvy roads requiring a whole lot of skill to avoid either rock wall or another automobile. Now that we were officially out of the Alps, into Italy, I downloaded the photos of the Alps onto my computer and started fresh, as is my protocol, then started a new.

Shortly after crossing the border from Switzerland to Italy, this fixture on the horizon appears – and you know you’re in Italy!
Lake Como

The size and scope of the lake usually takes first-time visitors by surprise; Menaggio, Lugano and other inlet towns dotting the lake have their own unique vibe and attraction. We’ve gotten to know each more intimately during our travels, which changes if looking through the lens of having teen and pre-teen children in the group.

The waterfront road in Menaggio; wide, relaxed and the vibe easygoing.

Menaggio is the first town you will reach, its small waterfront area having a street or two of shops, as well as restaurants. One of the four ferries used for reaching Bellagio is in town, but be warned; the ferries only allow about eight cars, so you will be waiting an hour if you don’t get your place in line. My favorite aspect of Menaggio is taking the short walk (or drive) nearest the ferry because the waterside villas are massive, ornate and the grounds worth writing about. In my novel, A Convenient Date, Rick and Kaitlyn are in Switzerland for a business meeting, have a free day and he takes her to his childhood home in Lake Como. A few of these photos are the ones I used to inspire my descriptions. During that original trip, I neglected to take photos, but this time around, I did.

The villa directly across from the ferry in Menaggio

Lugano, further down the lake, is larger, the residents spread in the hills and has a denser downtown area, yet because of that, it loses a bit of the small town feel. On the upside, it has fabulous high-end shopping at half the price of Bellagio, so unless you want to say you specifically purchased your Hermes in Bellagio, do your pocketbook a favor and purchase it in Lugano.

If you are a first-timer, check out Rick Steve’s commentary on which city to visit first, and how to get there from your starting point.

Notice the slight difference in road width from Menaggio vs Bellagio? The above is a typical road in Bellagio, and what my daughter is doing was what all pedestrians must do–hug the wall so as not to get clipped by a car.
The scenic route around the lake or the ferry?

Once we decided to explore the lake and drive around the southern tip in order to reach Bellagio. That was a hair-splitting four and a half journey we’ve not made since. The ferry ride for 4 in a car was 28 Euro and took ten minutes, which we learned on the return ride after we’d spent the day on the peninsula (which is how Bellagio is typically called).

Lake Como from the sky as we took the ferry ride to Bellagio.

Today, we were second in line for the ferry, allowing Rog to send the drone up and over to our intended destination, and me and the girls to chat up a wedding party of girls. Sometimes, ferry’s with short rides don’t allow auto passengers to get out. This one does, and we took advantage of no-rule rule to walk around.

This is a view of Menaggio from the air. We shot it while waiting for the fery, which you can see is docked about mid-way in the photo. the villa I used as inspiration is right behind it.

Parking and walking off the ferry all happens in the same area, providing you with options. To the right, can walk down the quarter-mile, two lane white gravel path to sit under the blossoming white and pink trees nearest the water or on the grass, the shade provided by massive beech trees. City architects have made this picture perfect, as the center islands area bunches of colorful flowers and half-circle walkway extensions over and into the lake allow for the perfect pictures of either Menaggio in the background or the Bellagio center. This ends at the entry point of the expansive Giardini di Villa Melzi, and if you want to reach the other side (where our flat was located/the market square for locals), its faster and flat. Otherwise, you are walking on the road, up and around, taking your life in your hands.

Three views of the walk way going in to Bellagio–all taken from the perspective of the
Giardini di Villa Melzi
A large villa overlooking the town of Bellagio and the main square
Bellagio proper

Now that we’ve been a few times, Rog and I have a different perspective than the first time. Whereas we were overwhelmed with the quaint main center, steep paths leading through the narrow buildings, gelato and shops, we now realize something so obvious it’s a little embarrassing to admit. The “picture-taking-tourist-zone” consists of literally two roads, two steep paths and the waterfront path I just described. It’s basically a big U-turn you are going to walk. These are relatively crowded, everyone with a phone in hand, taking selfies, eating gelato and buying scarves.

The shops close at 7:30–this was taken about 8:30 p.m. The restaurants are still open, but gelato and all the other stores closed. It being July, the crowds were manageable. That won’t be the case in another month.

We watched (and then did it ourselves to revisit our first experience) tourists disembark from the ferry. Instead of turning right, you turn left of Via Lunga Lario Manzoni and begin your exploration of the inner Bellagio. If you are following a map, continue on Via Lunga Lario, and assuming you have the strength not to imbibe on pizza or gelato, take a right on Salita Serbolloni, and up you go until you reach Via Guiseppe Garibaldi. This is the only road paralleling Lunga Lario, and it’s a T. You can go right, but the shops end about fifty feet down. The only course is to turn left, enjoy the tiny wine, meat or cheese shops, pause and take a picture at the most crowded place on the peninsula (because looking down, the image offers both narrow street at the lake beyond). After that, you turn left down Salita Bento Conzi Di Cavour, the second steep steps and you are right back on Via Lunga.

Yet another villa on beautiful Lake Como.

From there, you head back on Piazza Giuseppe Manzini. This is the same road as Via Lunga; the reason for the name change is that shopping districts in Italy are have the name Piazza in the front as the designation to identify it’s about shopping. Awnings extend from the buildings which offers a welcome relief from the heat of the day. Tables are set closest to the street but still under the awnings, the pedestrians walking between the tables and heading into the shops. Yes, we’ve purchased leathers and watches in Bellagio, because some good deals and lovely items are to be had, but we know when to wait and when to purchase.

The narrow path in Bellagio less traveled. This is totally common outside the “U-turn” as I call it.
The real Bellagio

No, not really. Bellagio offers many more restaurants and shops, but the truth is that tourists are usually walking and don’t bother explore either.

With the two main hotels a hundred feet from the ferry, and waterfront restaurants, you can literally spend your entire time within about 5,000 square feet of the Hotel Excelsior’s front door and be completely satisfied with your trip to the famed Bellagio shops on Lake Como.

This building is adjacent from the marina above, one of the many hidden marinas not far from the glitzy Via Lunga, but taking a few side streets open up the gems of every day Bellagio.

Ever the contrarians, we went for the anti-Bellagio experience this time around. We rented a top floor flat in a Bellagio neighborhood full of locals about two hundred feet from the waterfront, about half a mile from Bellagio center. This required we walk through tunnels, up and over bridges, using the 700-year-old lanes so narrow I could touch the rock walls on either side when extending my arms.

Unless you want to pay 10 Euro to walk one-way through the Villa di
Giardini di Villa Melzi, you will be walking on the road to Bellagio. This is about 1/4 of a mile from the center.

Butcher shops in a space no bigger than bedroom at home provided hand-cut prosciutto for our breakfast, a kitchenette size restaurant in an alley filled served diners on metal chairs and a table the size of my lap, all that was needed for two plates and lots of wine glasses. Laundry hung two and three floors above us, out of sight until we looked up, hearing the squawk of birds. Three babies in a nest were being fed by their mom, which made us wonder about the cleanliness of the clothes hung out to dry. It doesn’t get much more real than that.

One of the many inlets we found simply by wandering our neighborhood in Bellagio. The water was brisk but swimmable–the wind invariably picking up around 3 p.m.
Marinas and waterfront bathing

One of the appealing aspects of renting a unit like we did was the community “square” right down our street. We’ve found so many squares in Italy are based either right of front of, or nearby, a large church. This held true in Bellagio. Our first night was punctuated with the sounds of a big party. We unloaded then went exploring.

The community church near our flat where the party went down!

Sure enough, in front of the church was a basketball-size square, with community tables set up and a massive buffet-style offering. A band played regional music on a temporary platform, the tanging white lights straight out of a movie set. As the adults drank wine and engaged in lively discussions, teens lounged against the thick, stone perimeter of the marina below. It wasn’t exactly ideal for our girls, but was fun to take in and experience.

This lovely beach is free (as all the hidden ones are free vs for pay elsewhere in Italy), and has an eatery steps away. Another area found by walking around.

A bit more walking (about two minutes) and we discovered a connected area of sloping gravel and pavement which had a t-shaped dock attached. The following day, we returned to find the area sparsely populated, even though it was about 95 outside. Our girls jumped the dock, then followed the locals by hurling themselves off the high rock walls in to the lake.

More steps! A short cut connecting the waterfront, local road to the (only slightly) wider road used by cars above.

Later in the day, we continued our waterfront journey, discovering multiple inlets where the water from the mountains met the lake. These were usually alongside villas hidden behind dense shrubs, but we saw enough of the bamboo trees and glistening blue water to appreciate the property.

Our favorite places

In Bellagio, we’ve had gelato from every shop in the main area, and yes, we do have our favorite. It’s under the Hotel Excelsior right on Via Lunga. While it’s .50 Euro more than anywhere else in the main area, the store also offers a broader selection and bigger serving sizes. Right across from this store is a marina equivalent, owned by the same company. The portions are smaller, same price and not as firm (as in, almost runny gelato). I know this is getting in the visitor weeds, but some people pay attention to, and care, about the little things.

Our favorite eatery…

Our favorite eater isn’t one of the waterfront restaurants. It’s on the first and most popular path the tourists take, including ourselves years ago. We love it for the homemade soups, massive meat and cheese plates, bean soup, and pastas. Despite our intention to branch out and not go here, no matter what we do and where we eat, this is our version of the pilgrimage to mecca. We can’t come to Italy and not go to this little hole-in-the-wall restaurant.

Another local hangout- I shot videos of the girls jumping off the end of the rock pier. They figured if the locals could do it, they could too.
Making friends

One of my favorite elements of traveling is meeting new people. This is Svetlana, who was in front of us at the gelato shop with her dog. She’s from St. Petersburg, Russia, staying in Bellagio for the summer with her boyfriend, an art dealer. She was adorable, and of course, had great skin which she covered under an enormous white hat.

My new friend Svetlana, a beautiful woman inside and out.
This other side of Lake Como

Leaving for Verona, we took the direct path, which in reality, means the single lane, lake-hugging road. And when I mean single lane, that’s not one lane both ways. It’s actually a single—one—lane. Cars going either direction share it as best they can at speeds one can only describe as uniquely Italian. Turn outs are rare, buses are common, and it was a torturous hour to reach the other side. Once there, however, the pace of traffic slowed, the buildings, while less pretty, more functional and crammed together along the waterfront, wasn’t a turn off. In fact, we thought this was the where “the real people,” of Italy lived and worked rather than on the well-known west side of Bellagio.

Important tip for parking

If you are going to drive a car and rent a place with parking, be sure to dig for details. While our flat had parking, what the owner didn’t identify is that the 800-yr. old, single lane road was barely wider than my arms spread apart (we checked this). The Fiats, Volkswagens and other mini cars could barely make it through, and at the end, the parking was in fact, plentiful. Probably is we are driving a touring wagon, and it’s as wide as a normal car. We ended up parking a quarter mile away at a park, but only after we dropped our luggage by the entry to this small lane, and hoofing it like college students on a weekend getaway down to our place. It was an unpleasant surprise, but in our lives, we’ve never encountered this before. Lesson learned; ask about the proximity of the parking to the unit, and width as well!

I just love this photo- the boat reminds me of a massive whales mouth that will absorb everything in its sight.
Feature photo: a view of Bellagio from the drone as we rode the ferry
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June 23, 2019  by

The best of Bellagio

Lake Como, Italy is more than a single body of water

“Are we going back to Bellagio?” is how Rog remembers asking the question. My recollection is slightly different. I thought it was more akin to “We are going back to Bellagio,” the statement said with a bit of force.

The town holds a singular point of divinity for Rog, which would similar to a devout Christian would think of the Garden of Eden being placed in your back yard. In other words, heaven on Earth. Nope, this isn’t the hotel in Las Vegas, Nevada mind you, but the slim peninsula situated on Lake Como.

The beauty of the Italian Alps–this was just a random stop at a persons home, and I couldn’t resist (they were polite and pleased I adored their home/view)
It’s all about the food

The similarity centers on food, the apple in one instance, but meats, cheese, and yes, a few apples on this one. You see, by the time we arrived in Bellagio, we were starved. We roamed the streets, getting in a few sites before stopping at a restaurant situated half-way up a narrow allow, but wide enough o allow a two-person table. We took the waiters recommendation, ordering what we thought would be an appetizer-size plate. It turned out to similar in size to a large pizza, the wooden plate laden with an assortment of cold cuts, cheeses and fruits, fresh bread, crackers and all types of jams.

This was culinary nirvana for Rog: massive quantities of the authentic fair. So it is that we are taking the girls back this summer, his hope to find this exact eatery once again and replay the experience that made such an imprint. Shopping? Yeah, we did that, purchasing items for relatives at seriously discounted prices given the currency exchange. The ferry ride? Check. Walking the waterfront? Yep. Traipsing up and down the narrow streets, indulging in the local gelato? You betcha. But nothing…nothing ranks up there in Rog’s mind like that platter of food. Me? I was along for the ride, literally. I loved it all.

Narrow streets (this was actually one of the wider ones), no lane markers, the motorcylists racing between cars already packed like sardines in a can. This is where I got the idea to have one of my lead characters in the Danielle Grant series die while on his motorcycle. It’s real!
The journey, and I’m going to throw in Menaggio and a bit of the Lake itself

This day trip to Bellagio started out as a one-day itinerary once we arrived in Lake Como. To the uninitiated, the locals, and Italians spell the lake Como, pronouncing it “oh,” as in Lake “Coh-moe”, slightly different that Americans, who tend to spell it “Cue—oh-moe”, and spell it with a ‘u’. It doesn’t really matter, because the either way, it’s big, diverse and takes a while to drive around.

From Zurich, we went over the Swiss Alps, using the road favored by touring bikers (motorcyclists) and the sports cars who thrive on the twisty-turvy road. Along the way, you encounter the Contra Dam, cows and a dramatic change of scenery (which I partially cover in my blog on those topics).

What we didn’t expect to see was such a dramatic change once we reached the top of the mountains, seeing the planted Italian flag. The differences were stark. The roads, just as twisty, were not as well maintained, so we had to be careful of the potholes and general condition, yet we were so captivated with the views and architecture of the hillside homes it didn’t matter. Mountain lakes like Lake Lugano were dark grey, the clouds giving the glossy covers a matte finished look. The roughly three-hour drive from Zurich ended when we hit the first down on Lake Cuomo, Menaggio.

The top of the mountain has a mother Mary statue for safe passage of travelers. I was safe but I was cold!
A plethora of towns

Unlike my adopted home town of Lake Coeur d’Alene, Idaho, which is 22 miles long, and retains the name wherever you are actually located, Como has townships dotting the shoreline. In the States, certain areas are named (Loffs Bay, Mica Flats, etc.) but those are informal neighborhoods. On Como, each township is just that: its own town, with a center, police force etc. We stayed in Menaggio at the north end, choosing a place right close to the tunnel for ease of access to what we’d call a freeway, but is more like a narrow, two-lane road. We also desired a pool, (thinking it was going to be hotter than it was), parking (hard to come by) walking distance to the center of town and most of all, the ferry.

Menaggio offered all of that, but then we learned, so do many other little areas. This summer we decided to be closer to Bellagio and are staying on the opposite side of the lake in Verena, the ferry ride to Bellagio about five minutes, versus the fifteen from Menaggio.

The official marker in to Italy was anti-climactic. I wanted officers and a stamp (as I wrote in one of my novels) and I got crickets.
Hillside rentals

The relatively low prices of rentals on the lake are what astounds most folks (Americans) we speak with. I believe it’s because the impression is one of such exclusivity for the lake itself as the vacation spot for celebrities and the wealthy. The reality is the hills are full of vineyards cared for by the full-timers, and the price of top floor penthouse is less than $2,000 US for ten days, the private elevator, parking, three-bedroom, three-bathroom flat with five decks a bargain.

Top deck view, the tunnel to the North in the background. It was quiet however, barely a sound. The hill behind our flat were vineyards.
Back to Bellagio

The first time we visited Bellagio, we decided to drive, and it was a journey of about five hours all the way down and around the southern tip of the lake, then up to the peninsula. Nope, we had no idea it was going to take this long, but with only a single, extremely narrow road to navigate and a ton of stop lights, we made it as quickly as possible. Needless to say, we took the ferry on the return trip, and the journey was shortened by about 5 hours (it was only a fifteen-minute ride across the lake!)

The ferry schedule is every thirty minutes all day, docking portside to the center of town

Bellagio has two faces, really. The center of town, which is flat and lakeside. This is where quite a few of the major shopping takes place (think Hermes and the like). Yet dozens (hundreds?) of smaller boutiques with Italian goods dot the steep alleys that extend from the center up the hills. The majority are perhaps the size of my living room, crowded with silks of all types, jewelry, shoes or purses—the kind of things favored by women from out of town (me!). You’d think I would go crazy, but actually, I didn’t. I stopped after purchasing a few leather bracelets, because I’d seen quite a few of the same items in Lugano (another township) at a lower price—roughly 30%. I held my money and went back to Lugano to purchase a purse and a few other things, still enjoying the experience of Bellagio without feeling like an irresponsible shopper. To give you an example, a purse I’d seen in the US was $700. In Bellagio, that same purse was $500, which is quite a discount. In Lugano, it was $300. No that’s called savings.

Steep, narrow walkways–this was one of the less traveled–others can be wall-to-wall people

The other face of Bellagio is just outside the center, within walking distance, and it’s what I’d call the local areas. Lovely, mostly empty beaches, gardens and what I’d call sitting areas—secluded spots with benches for sitting and watching the ducks on the water. We could only rationalize that those who come to this lake want to “be seen” at the hotspots either on a boat or on a packed beach, rather than enjoy the quiet and romance that’s actually available and free! So it was that we went exploring and, in an hour, counted four different waterside areas, all in the area of Bellagio, all as free of people as the next one. On several occasions, these public areas were right next to high-end hotels. Glancing through the trees separating hotel from the public area, we saw the pool area packed with sunbathers, the chairs right next to one another. It’s all a matter of preference, we surmised. If you want to come to the lake, sit poolside and be pampered, then you have plenty of options.

Lakeside pools offer slips for boats but also much warmer water than the glacier-fed lake
The waterfront

By now, you are probably sick of reading my commentary on “the waterfront” of whatever lake we’ve visited. Sorry, it’s going to continue. Upon reflection of my seeming obsession with waterfronts, perhaps it’s because they are all so different—country to country and town to town. Such care and attention is given to the trees, pathways and facilities, more than often I feel like I’m in some version of Cinderella’s castle and the ferry godmother is going to pop out and grant me a wish.

The lovely (and basically empty) pathway leading to the center of Bellagio

And on that note, don’t be afraid to drive that rental car to Lake Como or pick one up when you arrive. Parking is plentiful in the Lake and surrounding areas. Not all rental homes have parking, but many do, as well as the hotels.

What I liked best

Each township has its own vibe, culture, eateries and destinations to see. It’s no wonder people come for a month and spend days roaming the 146-kilometer areas. If you are bored and want to visit the celebrities, I found this guide just for you, which also gives you some options as to how to best get to the lake.

Up the hillside are villas and wineries
What I liked least

The driving! Whoa, never in our lives have we encountered the insanity of the one-way, narrow, basically lawless driving along the lakeshore, particularly between and within the smallest of the townships. Because we have gone at the beginning of the summer (June and to mid-July), instead of the high season, which is August, we didn’t even experience the worst of it, but what we did encounter was enough. Oh well, it’s part of the experience.

Feature image: taken from the deck of the flat


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