Italy
Lake Como
Day 11.
A travel day - we zigzagged our way out of the tallest mountains, high over a pass and then down into the valley below.
The mountains are forest-covered, with pale craggy rocks. But everything grows smaller as we descend. We find ourselves on a busy road lined with boxy shops - American-style strip malls. We zoom along and look past the road to see terraces of vines and green hills beyond. Then we enter long tunnels and catch glimpses of the lake until suddenly it's our exit and we arrive at Varenna.
We luxuriate again in the tourist world. We find beautiful lake views and more hungry mosquitoes eager for our blood.
At night, the crescent moon glows orange as it sinks slowly over the dark lake. Mars and Venus appear as we go to bed, our stomachs full and our bones weary.
Winding paths and crooked roads
People sing and dance and crow
A crescent moon all red in hue
Mars is high and Venus low
Lights they shine across your lake
Twinkling stars
Nothing fake
Dark giants frame our moody world
Crooked roads and winding paths
Lead us back to Como's past
Day 12.
We explore Varenna at Lake Como and the grand old houses and hotels with formal gardens, remnants of a bygone era. We take the ferry across the lake to Bellagio with its shops, narrow streets and tourists. We hear voices from the U.S. and from all over the world.
Back in Varenna, we witness two weddings. The celebrations continue all day and late into the night. At our hotel, we had to walk through the wedding reception in our bathing suits to reach the lake for a swim - the most inappropriately dressed moment of our lives. We swam in the lake as a family of swans drifted past my bobbing head, quite oblivious to my presence in the cool, surging water.
Varenna is the place I'd go
Never to Bellagio
Bellagio has all the fame and yet it's not for me
Its name is known throughout the world
And yet with tourists it's beset
While Varenna is more sweet and neat
Its streets with less retail
It's built on rock like Bellagio too
And so, the two seem same
But Bellagio has lost its soul
While Varenna's character remains
Day 13.
Early, before the heat, we climbed up behind Varenna to find a spring that feeds the lake. For us it was just a trickle, but you could see that after rain or at different times of year, Italy's shortest river could become a torrent. We hiked up to the small Castello di Vezio where hawks and owls are kept. They seemed wary of the tourists; we marveled at their beauty. We spent the afternoon lounging at the hotel with the gentle sound of the lake constantly lapping at the shore.
Goodbye Como we love you so
Your misty shores we do adore
Your jagged cliffs we'll also miss
Your lapping waters we'd be remiss
If we did not appraise your people
Of which there seems to be no equal
So, adieu good friends we say goodbye
It's with this I sigh
And try not to cry