travelswithalice

July 31, 2006

Three Weeks in Italy

MILAN

The central station is an imposing structure with soaring ceilings populated by enormous stone figures. I inspect the pattern on the beautiful mosaic floor as I drag my luggage across it. Somebody spits on the floor and I quickly move away.

A gypsy woman strides up to the automatic ticket machine where Stuart is buying our train tickets. She has a chihuahua on a leash. Her hand darts in front of his face, quickly pressing a button right under his nose.

“

Do you speak English?” she asks. Stuart shoos her off with a very annoyed “Go away!”

On board the 2:05 InterCity train to Venice, we find that seat numbers 83 and 84 are not side by side. Stuart sits across from me. He’s in the center seat surrounded by five women. Fendi bags all around.

It’s very hot. The woman at the window fans herself ineffectively with a seriously chipped Spanish fan; an enormous carryall a dead weight on the floor beside her feet. And mine. Stuart moves it outside in the corridor. They all look sad, these women traveling alone.

The train soon slips out of the station and air conditioning kicks in. It’s a short pleasant ride to Brescia, where we have fifteen minutes to get to the bus terminal for the 3:10 bus to Gargnano.

GARGNANO

A gentle breeze cools my face and neck and stirs the bougainvillea climbing up the side of our balcony. The mirror stillness of the lake has broken and waves wash ashore boisterously as ducks come out to play. The elderly couple that owns the house next door sit and watch them frolic on the boat slip in front of their house. We’ve got our eye on that house. It’s called Villetta Maria. Maria is my second name, so it’s perfect.

A yacht ties up on Baia D’oro’s private pier as another drops anchor a few meters behind it. Stuart turns on the aircon in the bedroom and the vibration intrudes on the scene.

I should change for dinner; the girl in the boat has changed out of her white shorts and Indian shirt.

Nine o’clock in the morning and I’m waiting for the promised breakfast. The elder Signora Terzi was manning the desk last night and to my request for breakfast in the room she replied, “Normally, no.” Then very charmingly, she relented.

The lake whipped up quite a storm in the night. Lightning and thunder and turbulent lake. One lightning bolt knocked the power out for a second or two.

It’s drizzling now and the lake is restless. My breakfast has arrived. The old waiter from last night brought it; he looked amused. I suppose this indeed is not normal.

It’s 12 noon, the church bells are pealing. The weather has made a turn for the worse and we are wondering what to do. It’s too wet to walk and the lake is too rough for our planned ferry ride to Malcesine.

I guess we’re staying in for lunch.

Labels: Baia D’oro’, ferry ride to Malcesine, hotels, InterCity train to Venice, italy