This is a log of a tour of northern Italy that I took with my wife Carol and two other couples (Jim & Mary Holmes and Brooke & Rosie Keneford) in September 1998. We had a rocky start due to problems transporting our bikes and a little rain but, all in all, it was a very enjoyable trip. As always, we stay in hotels or B&B's, we eat at least one meal a day in a restaurant and we carry everything we need on our bikes. We are all now "late middle-aged". (That's quite a euphemism. We're all around 60 years old!) Your mileage may vary! Any prices are shown in Italian lire '£' and at the time of our trip 1000 £ was just under $1.00 CAD or about 60¢ US.
The attached map outlines our route.
I got a new scanner so I've included far too many photos. They're all here as 'thumbnails'. To see the full photo, click on the thumbnail.
Day
1: We flew from Ottawa on Canadian Airlines overnight to London
(Heathrow) where we connected with our British Airways flight to
Milano (Linate). That's where our troubles began. No
bikes!! Rather than include all the gruesome details
here, I've outlined the saga of the missing bikes on another page
which you can check out if you'd like by clicking
here. Suffice to say here that we left Linate in a rented van
(without bikes and some luggage) and drove to Orta San Giulio on Lago
d'Orta, about 75 km northwest of Milano. We had a nice meal at the
Taverna Antico Agnello after an interesting drive through the very
narrow streets of this little town.
Day
2: Breakfast at our hotel (Hotel Olina) was excellent.
Unfortunately, still no bikes! Rosie spent the next hour and a half
trying to get through to Linate on a pay phone outside the post
office (in the rain). Finally, at 11 a.m. she got through and was
told that all our missing stuff was at the airport and would be
delivered by that evening. Brooke and Rosie drove the van back to
Malpensa airport, 50 km away, and had to take a taxi back (150000
£) since there's no train or bus service. Ouch! The rest of us
toured this lovely little town on the lake. The rain had subsided by
noon so we picked up panini (sandwiches) and had lunch on the benches
at the lakeshore. When Brooke returned from Malpensa we all hopped on
to a water taxi and went out to Isola San
Giulio to see the old abbey. It's very grand inside - our first
look at an Italian church. Jim says that in France if you want to see
great art you go to the galleries; in Italy, you go to the churches!
On our return we sat in the piazza for a well deserved beer.
We heard that our stuff had arrived but it turned out to be Carol and
my panniers - still no bikes! Dinner that evening at our hotel - our
first "risotto con porcini" (rice with wild mushrooms) - wonderful!
The hotel was expensive but Orta is a resort town so it was
expected.
Day
3: Breakfast again at the hotel. These were the best breakfasts
of the trip - a nice way to start. We frittered away the morning.
Waiting around is frustrating at the best of times but we were here
on a bike trip - and no bikes!! The hotel staff transferred
our luggage up to their other site where the bikes were to be
delivered so we wandered up there. They still hadn't arrived by 1:00
o'clock so we walked up to a pizzeria for lunch. When we returned,
the bikes were there - with some
damage. By now it was 2:30 p.m. and we didn't have accommodations for
that evening. And it started to rain! This was not an auspicious
start to our vacation! Brooke rode back down into town to see if
there were any rooms available in any of the hotels. There weren't.
Finally, the young woman at the hotel was able to find rooms for us
at a hotel just 3 km away up the mountain in the village of Vacciago.
We pedalled up through a little light rain and got settled in. That
night there was a terrific storm with an incredible amount of rain.
Not much sleep.
Day
4 (43 km): We woke up (late) to sunshine and a lot of
debris and gravel on the roads because of the downpour. We had a
great 8 km descent back down to lake level with a great view of the
Alps in the distance. We stopped in the town of Omegna and found a
bike shop so Mary could get her bike fixed. Unfortunately, the shop
was flooded from the night's rain and so he couldn't help us. We left
the main road and headed for the pretty little town of Mergozzo on
little Lago di Mergozzo, where we had
lunch (pizza and beer - apparently the Italians make good pizza. Who
would have guessed?) We headed out and after a few km I retraced my
route because Brooke and Rosie were not with us. When I got back to
our lunch spot, he was in the midst of a puncture repair (actually,
just replacing the inner tube). We got to Pallanza on Lago Maggiore
at about 4:00 p.m. where we found a bike shop. They immediately set
to work to repair Mary's bike. The younger of the two men who were
working on it looked at the logo of Mary's Miyata and looked
quizzically at the older guy who said, in a disparaging tone,
"Giapponese!" (pronounced "Gee ap oh nay zay") They replaced the bent
chain ring, straightened the derailleur, replaced the chain and
cleaned it up - better than new! And only 90000 £. Meanwhile,
Brooke had tracked down some accommodations for us. Not great - we
shared a room with Brooke and Rosie - but starting that late in the
day in a resort town, it was fine. After dinner we listened to some
choral groups in concert in a park by the lake. A good day for our
first one on the bikes!
Day
5 (84 km): Another sunny day. Beautiful cycling along the
shore of Lago Maggiore. There are small
mountains that rise up on both sides of the lake and we can see the
Swiss Alps in the distance ahead of us. We went down to the lake
level in the town of Cannero - a very picturesque little place.
Further along the lake, we stopped in Cannobio where there was a huge
market. We lunched along the wall above the lake with cheese, melon,
prosciutto and tomatoes that we purchased at the market. We crossed
into Switzerland near the north end of the lake and cycled into
Ascona where there was a large display of antique cars and an
old-fashioned sunny Sunday-afternoon-by-the-sea air about the place.
We picked up a bike path that took us through Locarno, decided
not to take the ferry down the west side of the lake
and continued our journey around the lake, back into Italy, finally
stopping for the night in Maccagno. Hotel Imperiale: good meal; good
rooms; not too expensive (by Italian standards).
Day
6 (60 km): We headed east under cloudy skies with the odd
raindrop. At Ponte Tresa we were held up by a big tractor-trailer
stuck trying to back into a narrow lane way. There wasn't even room
for the bikes to get by. He couldn't go forward or back. We went
around the block to get by. He may still be there. We came down to
Lago di Lugano at Porto Ceresio. We bought lunch
fixings and ate by the side of the mirror-calm lake. We followed
the lake shore, reentering Switzerland. We climbed steeply to
Mendrisio and then had a great 3 km descent into Chiasso. Chiasso
blends into Como, although somewhere in between there's an
international border. The entry into Como required another steep
climb and then steep descent into this busy city at the southern end
of Lago di Como. There's lots to see here. The Volta museum is nicely
situated in a park by the lake. It's especially attractive at night
with the floodlights on it.
Day
7 (33 km): We spent a couple of hours wandering in Como.
There's a fine church there. Finally, at about 11:00 we headed north
along the lake shore. Actually, we were rarely at lake level. There
were lots of ups and downs with great views of the lake. After a stop
for a good lunch in Lezzeno, we arrived in Bellagio. The setting of
this town is incredibly beautiful. We found a hotel which was
situated half way up a staircase between two streets. We had to
muscle the bikes up the stairs to leave
them in the confines of the hotel. The hotel was very basic.
Our room was on the top floor with a balcony affording magnificent
views of the town below , the lake in front and the mountains
across. The remainder of the afternoon was spent touring this lovely
little town. The hot topic of conversation was the length of the two
gallerias (tunnels) on the next day's ride. One local source said
that one was 5 km long and the other 7 km. At the other end of the
spectrum we had an estimate of 1.5 km for one and 2 km for the other.
And we had several estimates between these extremes, most at the high
end.
Day 8 (66 km): The length of the tunnels spooked the other two couples enough that they decided to take the ferry from Bellagio to Lecco, avoiding the gallerias. It was all a paper tiger. After a fierce climb and descent out of Bellagio, the road hugged the lake shore and the tunnels (at 1.6 km and 2 km) were flat, well lit and with a smooth surface. We flew through them. At Lecco, a very busy little city, we caught the tail end of a market - not much there. The ferry arrived at about 1:00 p.m. with our friends. On our way out of Lecco (busy, busy city - lots of trucks, lots of traffic), we found a trattoria where the locals were having lunch. What a find! What a feast! We learned that day that at lunch time, you listen for the place to eat. Wherever there's the most noise, that's where to stop. After lunch we started down a bike path which petered out into a very narrow trail. With panniers front and back on my bike (Carol's knees won't hold up to a loaded bike), I found the trail too narrow so I exited and took the highway. At a bridge, I awaited my companions. I saw them coming. Carol was trailing and didn't see which way they had gone so I saw her turn around and head back the way she came. I had to sprint down from my vantage point and chase her down before she got lost. Brooke's bike fell as he was crossing the highway. He got an ugly looking gouge on his ankle from his chain ring. We were now on the main two lane highway headed for the large city of Bergamo. There wasn't a lot of room and we seemed to be sharing the road with a lot of 18-wheel Volvo diesels. It was a very unpleasant 20 km of cycling. We found rooms in an expensive, modern downtown hotel.
Day
9 (73 km): You may have detected that I was not at all
taken with Bergamo. If you've read the reports from my other trips
you already know that I don't like cities very much. In any case, I
was not interested in spending another day there but the others were.
We walked up to the funicular that took us up to Alta
Bergamo, the old part of the city above the busy lower town. It
is a walled mediaeval town with cobbled streets and interesting
buildings. My opinion of Bergamo would have been different if we had
stayed in the upper town. Rosie bought a piece of pizza covered with
French fried potatoes for each of us - a heart attack on a paper
serviette. At noon Carol and I returned to the lower town and headed
out by ourselves with a plan to meet the others at a specific hotel
in Cremona the next day. We headed east out of the city, escaping
from the "strada statale" (major road - the French call it a "route
nationale") at the first opportunity. A part of the problem in
finding good less-travelled cycling routes is that we had inferior
(1:300000) maps, not like the wonderful Michelin 1:200000 series for
France. But the major problem is that there just aren't many
secondary roads available in this part of Italy! We stopped for lunch
at a noisy trattoria and were once again rewarded with a great
inexpensive meal. We continued east to the little Lago d'Iseo. As we
left the town of Sarnico at the tip of the lake a seventyish cyclist,
all decked out in cycling jersey and shorts, went by us. We sped up a
little to draft him. He never looked around once but as he cycled
past sewer grates or gravel, etc., he'd drop his hand back to signal
me to move out to the left or the right, as needed, so he somehow
knew we were there. We followed him for about 3 km but then had to
turn off to the south. He gave us a big wave as we left him. My plan
was to stop for the evening in the small city of Chiari. We stopped a
couple of police to ask where we might find a hotel. They spoke no
English, we no Italian. However one of them spoke French so we were
able to find out from her that in this city of 13000 people there was
only one hotel. And when we got to the hotel, it was full. He
told us where we might find another. We had to backtrack and once
again found ourselves on a route nationale with all the trucks. The
second hotel was full. It was getting late. I asked where we might
find another. He said Brescia (another large city like Bergamo, about
20 km away). We headed that way and found a modern hotel a few km
outside Brescia where they had rooms. It was almost dusk so we took
it. We have been spoiled by France where every small town has a
couple of hotels.
Day
10 (67 km): A great day of cycling. We finally found a
route on small country lanes straight south from our hotel all the
way to Cremona. We stopped for a drink at about noon in a little bar
in a small town. Carol's 2000 £ wine was served in a tumbler.
There must have been 8 oz of wine in the glass! It started to rain a
little after lunch. That soon developed into a downpour which lasted
for the final 20 km into Cremona. Because of the weather, we decided
to book rooms for everyone at the hotel we had agreed to meet at. It
was only a block away from the main piazza
and not too expensive. We got out of our drenched clothing, showered
and changed - feeling much more comfortable. An American cycling tour
was staying at the same hotel. They arrived equally soaked. The
eldest cyclist in the group was 87! That's encouraging! At about 4:30
Jim and Mary arrived without Brooke and Rosie. They had found the
combination of rain and busy highways too daunting so they stopped
short of Cremona. We would meet them in two days in Parma. At dinner
that night Jim had "bollito misto" (mixed boiled meat) which was just
like it sounds but it was served with "mostarda di Cremona", a clear
syrup with small fruit (pears, cherries, apples, etc.) suspended in
it, served in a large (fishbowl sized) glass bowl. The taste was a
great surprise. Mustard! Strong mustard - like that powdered
English mustard. An interesting experience.
Day
11 (93 km): Jim and Mary decided to stay in Cremona to
tour this very pretty city, home of Stradivarius. Carol and I headed
out to the southwest to Castell'Arquato, a
very well preserved mediaeval town about 50 km away. The last couple
of km were tough - the town is on a hill in the foothills of the
Apennines. We climbed a very steep hill and found ourselves in a
parking lot with no clear directions of where to go. I thought we
were still below the town so we continued up another very steep climb
and emerged in vineyards on a dirt road. It started to rain so we
scooted into an open outbuilding of a winery. I asked the woman if we
could wait out the shower. Her English and my Italian were about on a
par but with my handy little Berlitz dictionary we managed to
communicate. They had just completed the harvesting of the white
grapes - they were already in the tanks beside us. The reds would be
picked in a week or so. I guess they were fairly prosperous - there
was a silver Ferrari parked beside the house. Her young daughter and
friend were watching us from a window in the house. When the rain
stopped and we prepared to leave, the children came down. I
entertained them with a couple of tricks with
a loop of string. With the woman's directions, we went back down the
hill and found that the parking lot was above the town. We descended
into the town, walking our bikes on the steep cobbled streets. The
views from the town across the valley below were very pretty. We
headed back to Cremona and saw from the wet roads and flooded fields
that we had missed another downpour. Jim and Mary confirmed that
there had been a lot of rain while we were gone. Each couple bought a
180 g bag of dried porcini mushrooms to bring home. The price was
19000 £, or about $17.50 CAD. At home they cost $4.00 CAD for a
10 g bag! We should have bought two bags! The piazza is very
pretty, featuring the cathedral, the baptistry and the tallest
campanile (bell-tower) in Italy. The art in the cathedral is
magnificent. Cremona was my favorite city on our trip.
Day
12 (77 km): We headed east on a sunny Sunday, taking back
roads wherever we could. In the village of Soarza we were entertained
by the beautiful sounds of the church bells. We stopped for a glass
of wine at a cafe where all the local men were sitting in very vocal
conversation. They were quite interested in our bikes (and our
wives!) We got into Parma in late afternoon. Brooke and Rosie had
gone ahead to Parma on the previous day to meet some friends who
happened to be on an Italian trip themselves - in a car, not on
bikes. They had arranged the meeting before we left Canada. They were
not at their hotel when we arrived and there were no rooms available.
We ended up in an old hotel near the station. It looked a little
creepy but in fact it was fine. The old lady who showed us our rooms
and where to store our bikes was entertaining. She spoke not a word
of English and she had the same ailment many English speaking people
have, i.e., if you keep repeating something often enough and loudly
enough in your own language, your listener will somehow magically
understand. We joined up with the others and had a fine evening
together.
Day
13 (88 km): We toured the piazza and the cathedral - very
impressive. Much of the statuary on French churches was defaced or
decapitated in the Revolution. It's nice to see the facades of these
churches with all the statues intact! We said our good-byes to
Brooke's friends and headed north, escaping the route nationale as
soon as possible. Jim bought a wedge of the local cheese at a
roadside shop. It's called Parmesan cheese - perhaps you've heard of
it. At Colorno there was a huge ducal palace
, all pink, on a beautiful estate. We caught the very end of a market
in the piazza at Rivarolo Mantovana, picking up some lunch fixings.
Jim divided the wedge of cheese for each couple. It's wonderful
stuff! For the last 7 km into the town of Asola Carol and I drafted a
tractor, almost coasting at 30 km/h. We had a drink and a gelato
(Italian ice cream - nocciola (hazelnut) seems to be the flavour of
choice this trip) in the piazza. A pleasant stop. We had a long flat
(tiring) ride to Volta Mantovana where we climbed steeply to find
that the hotel we were aiming for was at the base of the hill on the
other side. We should have gone around. The signora said they had no
rooms available. Rosie pleaded with her and she relented, saying that
we could stay if we promised to vacate before 10:00 the next morning.
It turned out they were having a private party that night and
apparently going away the next day. In any case, we had a lovely meal
there. Very inexpensive. Albergo Due Spade.
Day
14 (53 km): North out of Volta we came upon the ruins of a
14th c bridge with two great arches across the Mincio river below
Vallegio. The arches were separated by a couple of hundred metres.
Below the bridge was a pretty little village built up around 3 mills
(hence the name, Tre Molini). I was still at the first arch, alone,
when Carol signalled me from the other arch to join her. I cycled
through the second arch and came to a "T" in the road. No one there!
I waited a couple of minutes and no one came so I made the assumption
that they had carried on north (since we were headed for Lago di
Garda that day). I sprinted along this hilly road for about 6 km. No
one. I would have caught them by now. I turned around and headed
back. On the way back I thought up half a dozen other possible
systems for Carol to use in such a situation, all of them better than
the Yogi Berra system she chose. (Yogi says "When you come to the
fork in the road, take it!") Back at the "T" intersection was a very
apologetic Carol. Typically, I remained grumpy for another hour or
so. Here I am, banging on 60, and I still have some growing up to do.
We took a rocky canal towpath from Tre Molini. I abandoned it after 6
km. It was a puncture waiting to happen. The others decided to
continue on because it didn't look as bad ahead (it was!) so we
agreed to meet at the train station in Peschiera. When they arrived
about 40 minutes after I did, we had lunch and then decided to take a
ride out the Penisola di Sirmione, a peninsula out into the lake with
a walled mediaeval town at its end. Very crowded, very turista! Jim
wanted to take the train from Peschiara to Verona. We all raced back
to the town. Brooke & Rosie dropped out, agreeing to meet us at
the tourist office in Verona at 1:00 p.m. the next day. We got to the
station just as the train was leaving - missed it by 2 minutes. We
decided to take the first train the next morning at about 7:00. We
took rooms in the hotel right beside the station and then set out to
find a place to eat in this very pretty little resort town. Of
course, we almost immediately ran into Brooke and Rosie. We watched a
spectacular sunset and had an enjoyable
evening in very summery conditions.
Day
15: On the train at about 7:15, in Verona before 8:00, so we
didn't miss too much by missing the evening train. Jim struck up a
conversation with an old gentleman on the grand piazza in front of
the arena and was told of a good hotel - the Locanda Catullo, on the
second floor in a building in the old centre of the city. It was a
find! We found that there are about a dozen different ways to get
coffee in Italy. We struggled to order the one we wanted almost every
day. In different towns, the same name got you a different result. In
Verona, we never did get it right by design, only by accident!
There's lots to see in Verona. Besides the magnificent
arena on the piazza, there are several grand churches, a Roman
theatre and many fine old buildings and bridges. There were repairs
being made to the facade of the arena and another building on the
piazza. These construction sites were covered with Gore-tex sheeting
(I kid you not!) painted to look like what they were covering so you
still saw what the buildings looked like! Clever. And, of course,
Verona is the site of Romeo and Juliet (Giulietta). There's
Giulietta's house, her famous balcony, a bronze statue of her in the
enclosure (with a polished right boob - it's supposed to bring you
good luck if you rub it, so everybody does, making this one part of
her anatomy shine bright and brassy while the rest of her is dark and
dull.) You may ask yourself, how could there be a Juliet's house,
balcony, etc., when she was a fictional character? Tourism, my
friend, tourism! In the evening, after supper, we went to a free
piano concert in the Teatro Filarmonico. It was a lovely day!
Day
16 (66 km): Brooke and Rosie decided to take the train out
of Verona to miss the busy suburbs. The rest of us headed out and in
5 minutes we were off the busier streets and by 11 km we were on
small country lanes, dead flat and fast. We stopped for lunch at a
truck stop - once again, a great cheap meal. Just outside of
Montagnana we passed through an area of tobacco fields and saw it
drying in the barns. Montagnana itself is very impressive - a
completely walled town with all the gates, towers and walls
intact. The hotel we wanted to stay at was full - there was a
Vermont-based cycle tour there. The hotelier showed us on a map where
the other hotels were and we found a good one, the Albergo Antica
Tosca, a couple of hundred metres outside the walls. We went back
into the town to wait in the piazza for Brooke and Rosie. There's a
very nice church there. It had an interesting painting, a large
rectangle with perhaps a dozen squares, each depicting something like
the nativity, the crucifixion, the resurrection, etc. It was like a
proof sheet of God's Greatest Hits. We had a fine meal that night at
the hotel.
Day 17 (84 km): We headed out east through flat farm land. Near Este, Carol and I decided to go over the Colli Euganei, a range of small mountains (where Fontanafredda wines come from), while the others opted to skirt them. We agreed to meet in the piazza of the village of Pernumia. The mountains were very pretty, cyclable, with great climbs and descents and wonderful views. The town of Arqua Petrarca is especially nice. Great cycling - we made the right decision. In Pernumia, while we awaited our companions, Carol had a 1000 £ glass of prosecca, a refreshing, petillant, off-dry wine of the Venezia region (so far, unobtainable where I live). We circled west of Padova, heading for the road on which there were many grand examples of the palatial Venetian villas which line the route between Padova and Venice. Unfortunately, we were once again struggling to share the road with buses and transport trucks. We finally abandoned the road, moving to the quieter south side of the river and finally, after a long search, finding a very basic hotel in the town of Dolo. After a fruitless search for a decent restaurant in town, we decided to eat at the hotel. What an adventure! The hotelier/chef was a showman. He got us seated at a large table and then proceeded to serve us a five course meal of his selection - there was no menu. The wine flowed freely - a grand time was had (although it was expensive!)
Day 18 (34 km): Saturday, our last day of cycling. We started out in some intermittent showers - ponchos on, ponchos off, ponchos on, etc. It did clear up quickly. We had a scary ride through the city of Mestre to Marco Polo Airport. Jim, our "tripmeister", had planned to have us leave our bikes at the airport and then spend a couple of days in Venice, returning Tuesday morning to pick up the bikes and fly back to London. I asked him what plan 'B' was and he said there was no plan 'B' because plan 'A' was going to work. Well, Marco Polo is a very small airport and the guy in the "left luggage" room just laughed at the prospect of storing 6 bikes in his tiny room. Plan 'B' was quickly formulated. We would find accommodations near the airport, book rooms for Monday night, convince the hotelier to allow us to leave the bikes and panniers there until our return and then go into Venice with a small bag each. Good plan. Just outside the airport was the "Fly Hotel" where they were willing to follow plan 'B' and the rooms on that last night would only cost 220000 £ each!! Over $200 CAD to spend 7 hours sleeping in a room before an early flight? Not in this lifetime!! We continued back down the road towards Mestre. We had seen some hotels on our way to the airport. We stopped at a couple and no rooms were available. Brooke and Rosie decided they'd go back to the "Fly Hotel". We pressed on. In Campalto, about 4 km from the airport, after striking out at another hotel, I saw a hand lettered sign that said "Loggia, Zimmer, Charber". (That's right: "Charber") What the hell? We went down this little path to a gate and rang the bell. A little old lady in a blue house dress and wearing a straw hat came around this little house from her garden. Since our translator (Rosie) was gone, I was stuck with trying to explain plan 'B' to her. She understood! 70000 £ per couple and she'd keep the bikes! In we went. Her garden was large and there were ripening grapes on a large arbor and down a line to the end of the yard. She told me she gets 50 litres of wine from those vines! We changed out of our cycling stuff in her back yard and covered the bikes and panniers with ponchos (even though she told us it wouldn't rain - it didn't). She was quite amused by our activity. I asked her if she'd like a deposit and she gestured at the $5000 worth of bikes and said it wouldn't be necessary. Back to the airport by municipal bus. Rosie had already booked a room for them on the Lido, across the lagoon from Venice. When we got to the booking desk, all she could find for us was one room for the four of us, in Venice. We took it! (Had we known about the snoring, we might have reconsidered. However, I'm sure he doesn't do it intentionally.) We took the water taxi into Venice. Exciting! We bought a 24 hour vaporetto pass (like a bus pass, but given the nature of Venice, they use boats instead of buses) and had a fine ride from the Piazza San Marco along the Grand Canal to our hotel. We wandered the streets near our hotel to try to find a restaurant - found a couple that looked good. We went back to San Marco (with the thousands of others). The square is really something to see and the cathedral is unbelievable. We met Brooke & Rosie again and decided that, since they'd have to take the vaporetto back to the Lido after dinner, we would stay near the piazza for dinner instead of going to try one of the restaurants we had found earlier. Big mistake! We found a restaurant a couple of streets from the square and had the worst meal of the trip. A disappointing end to an interesting day.
Day
19: Nice breakfast at the hotel. The guy at the desk said that
because it was Sunday, we had a rare opportunity to see the glass
factory in operation on the island of Murano and since we had the 24
hour vaporetto passes, the ride in the water
taxi was free. A scam, of course! He's paid by the factory, as is
the taxi driver, to get tourists out there to buy their junk. There
was a short demo where a glass blower made a small glass horse and
then the rest of the time was spent in their showrooms looking at
stuff that was cleverly made but definitely not our style. But the
ride was fun and the glass blowing was interesting. When we returned
to Venice we all split up to wander this wonder of the world. The
struggle against the water must be endless. I got over to the Lido -
it seemed rather modern, North American. The crowds in and near the
basilica were incredible. I spent more time on the opposite side of
the Grand Canal - fewer people. Easy to get lost but on most corners
there were signs indicating this way to the railway station or to the
Rialto or to San Marco, etc. We met Brooke and Rosie late in the
afternoon and went to a restaurant that Mary had found - Ristorante
L'Incontro. Superior meal!! Carol, Jim and Mary walked back to the
piazza after dinner. The tide was in and the square had water in it.
A splendid day!
Day
20: Another good breakfast at the hotel. It wasn't a bad hotel.
Good location. The Hotel Basilea. We went out walking again. Back to
San Marco. In the Rialto we bought a sweatshirt for our grandson. We
split up again, each doing his/her own thing and met later in the
afternoon for one last nocciola gelato. Then the four of us hopped a
municipal bus to take us back to Campalto. We finally had a look at
our rooms at the old lady's place. They were fine. We asked her what
she called her place and she gave us a piece of paper with the
following stamped on it: Alloggi Benvegnu' Albino, via Orlanda 162,
Campalto (VE). We looked around the town to find a place to have
dinner. A man in a bar could see what we were doing and he came out
to recommend a restaurant down another street. We went for a look at
the menu and it looked good. We met Brooke and Rosie at the bus stop
and had a fine meal - the Trattoria Pizza Erasmo. Back to our digs
for the night. Another fine day.
Day 21: We picked up a pastry on our way to the airport. Brooke and Rosie were already there. Check-in was easy. It always is in small airports. We boarded at 9:40 for a 9:55 takeoff but fog over northern Europe left us sitting on the tarmac until 11:05. We were stacked up for another 20 minutes over Heathrow before landing. Brooke and Rosie were met by her sister and whisked off in a car. We had considered going into London since we had a long stopover but because of the delays we wouldn't have enough time so, armed with a suggestion a guy from the airport information booth, the four of us took a municipal bus for 80 p each into the suburban town of Hounslow where we had a great, inexpensive lunch at the Rock and Fodder pub. Back at the Heathrow we were a little behind our time and had to sprint when we heard the last call for loading. Back in Ottawa at around 7:00 p.m. to be greeted by our son and grandson !! What a treat!!
We had long wanted to visit Italy but because of the summer heat had never done it. Now that I'm retired from the education 'biz', we can go in the spring or fall so warmer Mediterranean countries are now possible. My overall impression: a good trip. Expensive. Good food & wine. People are friendly. Traffic a problem. The bike problems at the start were disappointing. I wonder if we'll fly again where there's a change of planes. All in all - a fun trip.
But it isn't France!!
