Terzo Giorno (Third Day)
Joel and Amy suggested we tour The Lakes north of Milan. We were fine with the idea, as long as we got back to Milan at a reasonable hour because I had to catch a plane home very early the next morning, and John’s talk at the conference was the next day.
We met at their hotel, and caught a cab (yep, skipped on the tram) to the Cadorna train station. The train was not crowded. It was a relaxing ride through the suburbs and industrial areas of Milan into the countryside.
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| Amy and I in Laveno, Italy. |
An hour and a half later, we arrived in Laveno on the banks of Lake Maggiore, the second largest lake in Italy. It was a picture perfect European village complete with a red roofed church steeple. It looked like a scene you’d see on a jigsaw puzzle.
Over a leisurely lakeside lunch, Joel told us that he’d lived nearby for a few months while he was on sabbatical. We were there at a good time, tourist season hadn’t started yet.
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| Amy and Joel Baker, Lavena, Italy. |
The ferry was almost empty. It was a great day to be out on the water, sunny, but cool enough for jackets. At each dock the crew would tie the boat off. Then the land crew would carry a ramp over, and place one end on the boat, one end on the dock. There were an impressive number of females working, but one that particularly stood out.
I nudged Amy, “Check out the dock worker’s shoes. Do you think those are standard issue?” With that, she struck a pose in her black, high heeled, tango shoes. They say French women have style. Well, the Italian women are no slouches.
When we got to Isola Bella, Joel told us this island was one of the best ones to explore. He was right. We wound our way up a labyrinth of narrow, walled, stone steps. In tiny alcoves, vendors had set up shops. We would shop on the way back down.
At the top, it opened up to reveal a huge castle that was so big it looked like a hotel. This was the home of the Borromeo family. The most famous family member was Saint Cardinal Carlo de Medici Borromeo (1538-1584), who was the Archbishop of Milan, Italy. The Borromeo’s transformed an old fishing village into a Baroque palazzo with a terraced Italian-style garden. It also had six grottos underneath the “house,” that were decorated with shells and pebbles.
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| Isola Bella, Italy. |
The dining room table was set with sparkling blue Murano glass dishes, service for 50? I collect blue glass, so of course I whipped my camera out. That’s the only picture I took inside because a woman rushed over to tell me that pictures were not allowed, but it was worth it. Notice the chandelier over the table. That’s also all made of glass. There was a unique, handmade (blown?) chandelier in each room of the mansion.
The garden was gorgeous, sitting high above the lake. One walkway was lined with roses. An albino peacock strutted around the grounds. The only thing I didn’t care for was that I thought there were too many statues. There were many rare plants, and everything was well manicured.
We left Isola Bella, took the ferry to the town of Stresa, and got vague directions in Italian to the train station-- something about going up the hill and then going right. Let the trudging begin. Three miles later, we ran into two moms walking with five young children, and asked them in English where the train station was.
They asked us, “Espanol?” When we nodded, they told us in Spanish that we were close—turn right at the next street. At the arch turn left, then right again. Go straight ahead for awhile, and the train station will be on your left. A cute 4-year-old in their group enthusiastically and proudly told us, “Good Bye!” in English.
Their directions were exactly right. We cooled off with Italian beer (6 Euros each, $8.55 US each) while waiting 45 minutes for the next train. In the corner of the train station café, Shakira’s video of “Waka Waka” came on the TV set. I wondered what the Italians in the station would think if I started doing the Zumba routine to it. I decided that they probably wouldn’t care, but John, Joel, and Amy might. I restrained myself to fancy footwork under the table.
We all took turns nodding off on the train ride back to Milan. It got more crowded the closer we got to the city. In Milan, the train stopped, and everybody got off, except for us. This wasn’t the train station we’d left from. The sign said, “Garibaldi,” not “Cardona.”
We sat there for five minutes or so, then looked out the windows and noticed that the tracks ended in front of our train. This was literally the end of the line. Off we got, then looked for a cab. It ended up that Gariboldi wasn’t much further from the hotel than Cardona.
At Joel and Amy’s hotel, we sat down to an elegant, expensive dinner followed by made-up desserts that weren’t on the menu. Amy ordered tiramisu. Then Joel ordered the carmelized banana, and even though there wasn’t any on the menu, asked if they could put some vanilla gelato on top of it. The waiter checked, then came back and said that they could do that. Suddenly, John and I were ordering gelato too: chocolate and pistachio. Crazy Americanos!
It was late, almost 11:00, as we walked through the Piazza Fierenze (the last time for me), and I still had to pack. A cab was picking me up bound for the airport at 4:45 the next morning. Today’s trip to Lake Maggiore had been a last taste of la dolce vita (the sweet life).
Buona Notte,
Laura
The next postcard will be the final one from Milan. Laura Keolanui Stark can be reached at stark.laura.k@gmail.com.
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