My alarm goes off and I pull the pillow over my head. I grudgingly get up and hurry out the door to reach the train station on time. There aren’t any buses at 5:30am on a Sunday so I walk the 30 minutes to the station.
I’m on my way to Varenna and from there I will catch a ferry to Bellagio. I want to visit Bellagio early as it’s the more popular of the towns so would like to wander before the Sunday crowds arrive.
Bellagio is a charming little town with stone pathways, beautiful gardens, colourful buildings and a beautiful waterfront. The smell of jasmine permeates everywhere I walk. Groups of male cyclists zip past me as they wind they’re way up the hill to cross over to the fishing village of Pescallo.
My next stop is Menaggio located on the opposite side of Lake Como. It’s quite mountainous and I start to climb upwards in search of a church. There appears to be a lookout on the map and I continue up. Twenty minutes later I find myself on a rocky trail that I think is to the lookout but the GPS isn’t working so well. This has now turned into a “hike” and not a walk. Let me preface this adventure by stating that I am not dressed for hiking. I’m wearing sneakers with no tread and a skirt. But of course, I continue.
Another twenty minutes go by and I’ve given up on this supposed look out. I’m not daintily perspiring like a lady, but full out sweating. My sweat towel (a handkerchief I bring for just these mishaps) is soaking wet and I’m muttering to myself,
You idiot. Why didn’t you just turn around? Or better yet, why did you even try to find this bloody look out?? How do I get myself into these situations? I’m smarter than this.
I see a sign on the side of the trail giving directions back to Menaggio. I carefully pick my way between the rocks and follow the arrow. Ahead on the trail I see something black and wriggly. After shitting myself, I jump up and down yelling (do snakes have ears??) and it wriggles off. Jesus H Roosevelt Christ. Get me off this bloody trail! I’m now totally freaked out and every little rustle I’m twitching. Speed walking and having blinders on is key to avoiding all things snake-like.
I’m about to give up and turn around when I see cobblestones. I have returned to civilization! The map is working again and I find the town. Once again, you guessed it, I’m a hot mess. To future visitors, I don’t suggest this route. An hour spent looking for a photo opportunity and I have zilch to show for it. After inhaling a limone gelato I head to the ferry for my return trip to Varenna.
As soon as we dock in Varenna I’m in search of food. It’s mid-afternoon and all I’ve eaten is an apple and a bit of yoghurt. I’m starved. Unfortunately, so is everyone else here and all the restaurants are jammed. Arrgh! I keep walking and find a bakery with pizza. Good enough. I find a quiet, shady spot in an alcove to eat. Heaven.
I do a little exploring but Varenna is very busy at this time of day. I find a garden that’s a little quieter and wander down by the water. I’m not hiking any trails this time. I’ve learned my lesson and stick close to the town. I have an inkling that all these people will be catching the train back to Milan so decide to get to the station early. When I arrive it’s already swamped.
The train arrives and it’s chock-a-block full of Boy Scouts. Excuse my language, but this is a fucking nightmare for me. The boys are probably around ten and hyped up from their big day out. I really love ill-behaved, obnoxious children so I’m totally in my element 🙄. There aren’t any seats so I have to stand at which I’m not thrilled as I’ve been on my feet since 5:30am and this is an hour long ride.
One of the boys gets out a felt marker and starts drawing graffiti on the wall of the train until I reach over and grab the pen out of his hand. The look of shock on his face is priceless and I don’t know if he understands me when I tell him to smarten up. Where the hell are the leaders of this troop? They surely can’t be without adult supervision! The whole carriage is chaos.
Three girls are taking up four seats by propping their feet up and of course I can’t keep my mouth shut and lean over to ask them to remove their feet so an elderly woman can sit down. They grudgingly oblige. What is with some of the youth today? No bloody manners.
At the first stop, a seat is vacated and I quickly grab it. Sweet bliss, my feet can take a break. Unfortunately it’s a short one, as a woman carrying a small, sleeping child enters the carriage and do you think any of the half dozen strapping young lads sitting offer her their seat? Chivalry is DEAD. I offer my seat and go back to standing feeling self-righteously bitter. For my last train ride, this has not been the best experience, so for those of you visiting Lake Como, don’t go on a Sunday! Don’t get me wrong, I loved my visit, but the train ride home is less than stellar and I’m clearly tired and slightly grumpy. Let me note that all my other train rides this month have been fabulous.
On arrival to Milan I extricate myself from the carriage and head to the Metro. I’m so local savvy I know which train to take and where to get off. It’s like I live here😀. When I debark at my stop, no map is required as I’ve already memorized where my street is and by 6:30pm, I walk through the apartment door and collapse. Air con switched on and a shower and I feel almost human again.
Last day in Italy tomorrow and feeling a little sad. I’m looking forward to relaxing at home which is ironic since I am supposed to be on a vacation. A couple people have mentioned to me that my Grandfather would be so proud of my travels and I really hope he would be. He’s often in my thoughts when I’m overseas. I believe the way I seek out adventure is reminiscent of him.
