travelswithalice

At home in Manila, in the lanai. jazzradio.com on cue, ceiling fan softly humming, and beyond the wall, the backstreet is buzzing. Nice.

All too soon, a car horn starts honking to the accompaniment of a chorus of movers shouting. Well, it's not paradise all the time, but I love it here.

My thoughts, however, drift back to Gargnano. my ever and always go-to place. In good times and in bad. In the sun and in the rain.

Two whole weeks now since Stuart and I drove into the small village of Villa, in the town of Gargnano, on the sunset side of Italy's Lake Garda.

As we stop at the curb outside Valerio's Hotel du Lac, his mother, the beautiful Mrs Arosio, who owns and runs nearby Gardenia Hotel with her husband and two other sons, is just leaving. She stops to chat and give us a welcome hug, saying her son will be happy to see us again.

Just like that, we're home.



It's easy to feel at home here. Or even to wish it was home. Winston Chuchill did. D.H. Lawrence actually set up house here- right across the road from us- with runaway inamorata Frieda. And of course, so did Benito Mussolini, whose former villa just down the road, is now a spa hotel, the Villa Feltrinelli.

At Valerio's, on the delicious balcony outside Room #1,  the kiwi canopy shielding us from the late afternoon sun is heavy with fruit. A glass of red wine is set beside my all but forgotten book, iPad, and iPhone all piled up at my side table.


I'm busy listening to the water rushing rhythmically up and down the boat ramp below me. And studying the mountain range across the lake, trying to pinpoint the exact spot where tonight's full moon will make an appearance.

We couldn't have timed our stay better if we tried. The first full moon of August is scheduled to appear at dinnertime tomorrow. Tonight's moon will be less full only by a smidgen. We watch the mountain ridge like expectant children at Christmas Eve, eager to see the very moment of the moonrise.

A telltale glow appears on the mountain top, close to where it dips ever so slightly. And as advertised, the moon slithers up to the waiting blue sky. And to a barrage of camera clicks from every table!



Dinner under the stars and a full moon. What could be more delicious than that? We linger over our bottle of wine as the moon trails a river of silver across the lake.