Italian Lakes

Italy’s got lakes!

Lake Como with the Italian Alps in the background.  What is all that white stuff up there?

When we arrived in Varenna on Lake Como we increased the population such that they closed the grocery store until they could lay in enough supplies to meet the increased demand.

We decided to make Varenna our base of operations in the Italian lakes because it was where the train and the ferry both had terminals.   It is a cute little Italian town with just a main street with stairs leading off to either side.  On one side the stairs go steeply down to the water and on the other they go steeply up the mountain.  The interesting thing about the stairs is that they are exactly the wrong width to make walking down them easy.  The stairs are made of rounded river rocks embedded in the soil with nice green moss growing up between and they slope just slightly down.  It was raining.  Those rocks looked wet, hard, cold and slippery. I imagined myself whipping down the stairs on my behind and ending up having my squeals drowned by the very cold lake water.

Miraculously that did not happen.

I guess centuries of living in that area have made the residents wise as to the behavior of the environment.  The stairs were not slippery at all – just steep.   We had to go down a short way to get to our accommodation and it went without a hitch.  It was just strange that we had to go down these stairs to a door that opened on some stairs going up and we ended up on the third floor overlooking the only road.  It seemed that we could have left out the “down the hill” bit.  But, this is Italy and this town was built when people were not so lazy. 

Layering up for Cappuccino

 When we arrived in Varenna our hosts, Marie and Peitro, met us at the railroad station.  They were a very sweet couple with all the incredible warmth and friendliness that typifies the rural Italians.  As we got off the train we could see them on the platform jumping up and down waving at us.  Marie keep poking at Pietro and making sweeping motions at her chin miming a beard.  I guess that is how they recognized us.  It was such a warm welcome that we felt immediately at home.  

As it turned out they had only a few words in English and we had less in Italian.  We both used up our respective vocabularies immediately.  Marie pointed at the lake and saying “lake” repeatedly and I kept answering “Si” repeatedly.   Pietro, meanwhile, kept up a running commentary telling us all kinds of interesting things and telling us many hilarious anecdotes and laughing wholeheartedly.  At least we hope that’s what he was doing.  Both Marie and Pietro accompanied their conversation with big smiles and flamboyant gestures.   Telen and I sat there in typical polite frozen Canadian fashion and kept apologizing for not understanding.

Varenna on Lake Como

My vision of the Italian lakes came from the movie “Casino Royale” where James Bond awakes to find himself sitting in the sun while recuperating at a majestic Villa overlooking a beautiful lake at the base of the Alps. 

It wasn’t quite like that.

Venice was warm and sunny - almost too warm at times.  Varenna, on the other hand was rainy, windy and cold.  The Alps, indeed, were there but they had this white powdery stuff on top of them and the white stuff seemed terribly close to where we were.  The usual Italian pastime of sitting at the outside table with a cappuccino was still doable as long as you wore enough layers.   As to the Villa – well we could vaguely see it from the ferry a long way down the lake.

Actually there are a lot of grandiose Villas on the Italian lakes.  The problem is that the owners are aristocrats who were raised in a life of leisure and are finding out that the money is either going or gone.  They have no skills and do not know what this work thingy is.  Frustratingly they are not allowed to tax the peasants any more or raid the neighboring kingdom to top up the coffers so they have to sell off their Villas to those very peasants.  Such a shame.

Aristocratic Villa.  Any offers?

The Villa I mentioned of “Casino Royale” fame was built by a Cardinal on the site of a Franciscan monastery.  How ironic is that.  A huge Villa being built by a high-ranking church official sponsored by the donations of the poor people who expected him use it to take care of them on the site of a monastery whose monks who took vows of poverty.

What are Italians famous for?  Food!  On our last day in Italy Telen booked us an Italian cooking class.  The chef, Moreno, picked us up in the village and drove us up to his restaurant in another little village called Gittano.  Gittano is a long way up the mountain and I lost count of the number of switchbacks on the road up.  To make matters worse the road was barely wide enough for the car and Moreno kept sounding the horn at each blind corner.  Thank goodness for Telen and her acupuncture…

Moreno was a great instructor although it was a bit like being taught by Roberto Benigni (of “Life is Beautiful” fame).  I kept expecting him to break out with, “Buongiorno, Principessa!”  He didn’t, but he did bend over and kiss Telen’s hand. 

Geeze! Those bloody Italians!

 

Chef Telen and Chef Moreno making homemade pasta

Chef Moreno welcomed us into his restaurant with a cappuccino and proceeded to show us how to make ricotta cheese and an extraordinarily delicious pasta sauce.  He then showed us the technique for making fresh pasta - out of which we made tortelloni and fettuccini.  Part way through the day we were given snacks and wine. I think I may not have been his star pupil.  Periodically I would catch him staring at me over the top of his glasses.

The Tortelloni we made.  Nummers!

You could tell that he really loved what he did.  The way he cooked was like his mama and grandma. When asked how much of each ingredient he used he said, “Enough!”  Hard to quantify that!  He was very aware of all the modern equipment available but he believed in getting in there with both hands to imbue the food with passion and love. 

Man these Italians are suave!

Chef Moreno doing his thing

At the end of the class after we had eaten all the great food and drunk all the great wine he drove us back down to the village.  Man, those steps to the apartment were hard to negotiate after that - with all that unbalanced weight, high blood sugar and the destabilizing effect of the wine.

What a great way to end our trip to Italy!  Beautiful scenery, warm friendly people and fabulous food.  You have to hand it to the Italians – the know how to live. 

Dolce Vita!

Telen writes:

Arrivederci! (i.e. goodbye) Italy!  Once again, Italy has not disappointed us.  Most of the people we met were warm and welcoming, in a down to earth fashion…just like the food.  I would like to emulate the Italian attitude towards life.  Whatever happens, dress and act like you are really cool.  Take time out to prepare and eat delicious foods with friends and family.  Take time to talk to your neighbours and don’t forget to wave your hands to accentuate your expressions! 

The Canals of Venice

The Grand Canal

Venice is amazing.

When I was a young boy I remember hearing about Venice.  Venice was a far-off city that did not have streets or sidewalks.   To travel in Venice you had to take a boat or, in my mind, swim.  Since I loved the water it sounded like paradise to me.  The image I had was that the water was clear, warm and exceedingly swimmable.  The boats would have been canoes or rowboats. To get into a house you would swim underwater into an indoor swimming pool.  Everyone spent all their time in bathing suits.

Venice is amazing, but it is not like that.  Swimming in the canals is forbidden, and for a very good reason.  People don’t so much swim in the canals as dissolve in them.   You would not stick anything in the canals that you would want back.  The sewage from the city pours into the canals along with pretty much anything else that you don’t want anymore.  Granted the water is exchanged twice a day with the tides but it does not clear it out completely.  The water in the canals is not like the water in the lakes and streams I was used to as a small boy.  The water is a murky greeny-browny colour.  There is some seaweed that attaches itself to the sides of the canals but apparently it keeps dying.

Gondolier on the non-smelly canal

Interestingly enough the city does not smell.  In spite of all the water there is no damp or sewer smell.  In Victoria if you go down to the ocean you can smell ocean.  I suspect, in Venice, that the lack of smell is due to the lack of growth in the water.  If you stay out of the water you should be good.

The city is far more beautiful than I expected.  The big three places people visit in Italy are Rome, Florence and Venice.  Rome was interesting, albeit crowded.  Florence, which we saw ten years ago, was beautiful but very touristy.  Venice is less touristy and far more interesting than either.   Strangely it has a more laid-back feel. 

The canal just outside our place in Venice

My childhood vision of Venice is that it was a floating city.  All the buildings and sidewalks floated on the water and, if you wanted, you could tow the city to another place.  Venice is actually a multitude of small islands in a lagoon.  They were all independent little towns originally but they gradually amalgamated due to economic benefit and unequal weaponry.  Bridges were built.  Lots of bridges!  409 bridges to be exact - linking all the islands.

The interesting thing about all those bridges is that they are not ramps – they are steps.  That makes the transporting of goods an interesting problem.  There are two ways to transport stuff in Venice – buy boat or by cart.  By boat is easy as long as your destination is near the water otherwise you have to transport your goods by cart. The tricky part is getting those carts over the bridges.  Think of wheeling a fully loaded wheelbarrow up some stairs and then back down some more stairs.  Eggs are an uncommon commodity in Venice.  Those bridges account for the absence of cars and bicycles in Venice.

Telen on one of the myriad bridges 

The city grew based on the position of the islands and not with any kind of well thought out plan.  All of the streets are quite narrow alleys that periodically empty out onto a Piazza.  The alleys vary in size from quite wide roads that you could actually drive a car down to ones that can barely pass two Italians (or one American) through.  Yet, these are still main thoroughfares.  Getting lost is a cinch.

Venice was a rich and powerful nation of its own for a long time.  It could afford to spend a lot of money on itself.   It did.  St. Mark’s square (Piazza San Marco) is an ode to conspicuous spending.  There is, of course, the Cathedral for which the Piazza is named. It would appear as if the Venetian merchants travelled around the world and picked up various bits and pieces of architecture and brought it home and stuck it on the church.  It certainly has a unique look to it – a mixture of Christian, Muslim, Greco-Roman mythology and Jewish.  It kind of looks like those cars with all the plastic figurines stuck on them.  The interior is painted in what appears to be gold-flecked paint.  I wonder if God is impressed.

Telen in Piazza San Marco

Inside is a font of holy water.  What makes holy water holy?  I asked Telen that and why they always keep it at just below boiling temperature. She said, “They don’t keep it hot!”  I said, “So why does it burn when it touches you?” 

The eye-rolling grimace was worth it.

The area surrounding Piazza San Marco is still an area of conspicuous consumption.  This is where you go to get into some serious debt.  The Danieli is a hotel just off the piazza.  It has rooms that run from $250.00 (single bed - one person) per night to $9,900.00 per night.  I am not sure how many people are allowed in the latter but I would hope it would be the whole tour group.  The shops surrounding the piazza have all kinds of expensive names like Prada, Giorgio Armani, and Salvador Ferragamo.  Apparently if you have these people’s names on your clothes they cost considerably more than if you have non-Italian names like Stanfield or MEC.  I am not sure why people spend over $1000.00 for a pair of pants.  I don’t care what amount of money I spend on pants they would still have me in them and it would still look like me.  Giorgio Armani would not want his name associated with that look, believe me.

Young lady with Daddy... or is that Sugar Daddy?

Italians are very conscious of their looks.  Telen has been checking out all the Italian men with their full heads of hair, impeccable good looks, and suave charm.  They all strut around with their tight pants, collars flipped up and thumbs hooked into their pockets.  She has been urging me to try to look like them.  The problem is my t-shirts don’t have collars, tight pants don’t fit my belly and hair gel just makes my head shiny.  If I hook my thumbs into my pockets it looks like I am trying desperately to take my pants off.  I got my suave lessons from Abbott and Costello.  Poor Telen – holding a lump of coal in her hand with her nose pressed up to the jewelry store window looking at all the diamonds.  (Rand is a “diamond-in-the-rough”—Telen)

Diamond in the rough?   Nope - just a piece of coal.  No, I have not suddenly grown really tall - the doorway is just really short!

Venice is a very picturesque city.  I love wandering around looking at the beautiful architecture, the canals, the bridges and the myriad alleys.  Telen loves looking at the sights too, but I suspect tight pants could be added to her list.  We see the gondoliers paddling their gondolas up and down the canals but I haven’t heard anyone singing “O Sole Mio” yet.  The motorboats are probably drowning it out.  Strangely Venice is the only Italian city I have seen that has graffiti.  I think the other cities would crucify someone who spray-painted on their 1000-year-old walls.  In Venice the walls are only about 500 years old. 

Venice is a truly beautiful city.  The scenery is amazing, the food, coffee and gelato are what you would expect in Italy – fabulous.  If you like shopping be sure to bring your sugar-daddy (or sugar-mommy) because bargains never existed here.  We had an excellent little apartment down a back alley and around a corner that was beautiful and fairly inexpensive and we didn’t buy any Prada at all so the trip was affordable.  Venice is worth it.

Telen writes:

I have always wanted to visit Venice and am not disappointed now that I have.  It is as beautiful as a postcard.  It is so unreal to see front doorsteps only 3 feet away from the water.  One can say that every building in the city has “waterfront” view!  Everyone here, young and old, walk.  I saw toddlers taking wobbly steps along the walkways, little ones riding their bikes and elderly walking along with their canes.  There are absolutely no safety rails along the canals and no one seems to fall into the water either, at least I have not seen any bodies. They may have dissolved.

I was very surprised that one can travel to Venice by train.  How does a train travel through the canals around Venice?  As we journeyed north from Siena, the landscape gradually changed from hills to farmlands.  Suddenly I noticed a large body of water with a man-made causeway on which our train sped its way straight towards Venice.  It was quite unreal.

There is not a single car in Venice and hence no traffic lights.  The canals are filled with various motorboats, water taxi and tourist gondolas.  I saw a traffic cop with a radar trap and a whistle standing at the edge of the canal, trying to catch water traffic violators.

Venetian traffic cop

When we left Venice today for the Italian Lakes up north, I suddenly realized how quiet and peaceful Venice is without all the cars. 

   

Toscana

Siena - the penultimate Tuscan town

Tuscans seemed to have developed their diet specifically for cyclists.

There is a specialty food here called Pane Forte.  Pane Forte means literally “strong bread”.  It resembles bread in much the same way that granite resembles Play-Doh.  I would say that it is kind of like Christmas Cake but, unlike Christmas Cake, you cannot use if for building material or as a lethal weapon.  It is loaded with all kinds of nuts, dried fruit and various and sundry unidentified high carbohydrate substances all cemented together with flour.  This means that it will send your blood sugar through the roof quickly and for a prolonged period. 

I like it.

I would not suggest, however, that one should eat this on a regular basis unless you are cycling and burning calories like mad.   If you are cycling for a prolonged period of time and are climbing a lot of hills it is the perfect snack.  It has the advantage over the traditional power-bars in that, not only does it give you fuel to burn but it makes your workout worth more because of the additional weight.  It probably wouldn’t work as well for running because if you stick it in your back pocket there is a good chance you will trip over your pants.

A wild boar is a fearsome creature.  He (or she) has large fearsome tusks, cunning intelligence, tremendous strength and a really bad attitude.  Just what one needs for cycling in Tuscany.  Except for the tusks, of course.  There is a thing called sympathetic magic.  Sympathetic magic means that you can take on the properties of something by being in close contact with it or being associated with it.   Hence the use of rhino horn as an aphrodisiac, the association of sports teams with mighty beasts, and the belief that a big loud expensive car means you are well endowed.  Certain primitive cultures believed that if you ate the heart of your brave enemy you would receive his (or her) courage.  So, the logic goes – if I ate the wild boar I would inherit his strength, cunning and aggressiveness.  If you carry that logic to it’s conclusion - eating beef would be a bad thing.  Beef cattle are castrated, stupid and docile.   Chicken would be even worse.

Wild boar is another Tuscan specialty.  Most restaurants serve it in one form or another – as a stew, as a part of their pasta sauce or on it’s own.  It is actually quite delicious.  So I thought I should eat a lot of wild boar and do the sympathetic magic thingy.  It appears to be working – I have been grumpy, I snort a lot, I think I need dental work, shaving is taking a lot longer and Telen tells me I am getting really boring.  As far as the strength and cunning goes, I think it is going to take more than eating a nasty, hairy pig with bad teeth to endow me with that.

 I'm thinking it might be time to cut down on my Wild Boar intake

Since it is early spring here we are not getting the quality of food that we had the last few times we were here.  The last times we were here it was harvest time and all the good food was coming in from the fields and, man, it was delicioso!  Don’t get me wrong; the food here has been great.  It is just interesting to see on the menus the terms “highest quality canned” or “the best quality frozen”.  When we go into the botegas (grocery stores) we hardly see any fresh veggies except for artichokes.  We are spoiled in Canada in that we get fresh veggies in our grocery stores all year because we have no shame in importing from Mexico or Peru or even (shudder) California.  Italians do not import because they believe no one else can produce as good a food as they do. 

They could be right.

The one place Italy falls down is breakfast.   Breakfast is more like a quick snack and usually entails some bready things like croissants or buns and an espresso knocked back like a vodka shot.  I, personally, love eating breakfast.  I usually wake up hungry and grouchy and I want MY BREAKFAST.  I want eggs, meat and lots of coffee.  This does not happen here.  If you ask for American-style coffee they just dilute some espresso and serve it to you with a sneer and an apology that they don’t have a gun to go with it.

Italians love their espresso.  This little espresso maker makes 50 cups

Another place that Tuscany doesn’t do so well food-wise is bread.   They always give you bread at the beginning of the meal.  You know they are going to give you bread because you can hear them cutting it in the kitchen.  Most restaurants have a large wooden box similar to that in which you might keep firewood in which they keep their bread.  This allows the bread to develop an interesting texture.  It is not that the bread gets stale -it is more that the crust becomes like a shell - a turtle shell.  When bread gets stale it crumbles and breaks and develops sharp edges when you bite it.  Tuscan bread bends and bends and finally snaps like a green branch.  Somehow they manage to make it with no flavour.  It is an area that I feel requires some improvement.

Siena is a University town. It turned out we were staying right next door to the Faculty of Pharmacy

Life has been tough in Siena.  We get up in the morning and get breaky then head out to see what there is to see.  At about 12:30 or 1:00 pm we find a likely restaurant and have some lunch.  After lunch we head back to our room for a siesta.  About 4:30 we head back to the center of town and find a gelateria and indulge in some gelato to tide us through to suppertime.  Restaurants don’t usually open until 7:30 so we explore until then when we indulge in great Italian food.  Life could be worse!

Italians may not be the most efficient culture in the world.  In fact I think they might rank somewhere in the lower percentile in that respect.  I believe the reason for that is that they don’t worry too much about being efficient – it just gets in the way of enjoying the moment.  Enjoying the moment is what Italy is all about.  They love to visit with each other, make friends, enjoy their food and work on looking good.  They may not be the most efficient culture but what they do, they do with style!

We saw this cute little old guy taking flowers in to his sweetie. Notice the Italian cut pants - very stylish!

 Telen writes:

Yes, “looking good” seems to be important here for the Italians in general.  There is no such thing as “fragrance free” zone.  We visited a local pharmacy a couple of times to buy some toiletries and each time were given free samples of cologne and fragrant lotions.  I was quite overwhelmed by the strong scent of after-shave when being helped by a local policeman.  Makeup and accessories are essential here.  I noticed a lot of young men wearing stylish scarves to match with their outfit.  I have been told that unemployment rate is high here (up to 25%) for people under 30 but in Siena and Rome, these young adults do not behave like unemployed people.

I managed to “drag” Rand into an Italian clothing store to get some stylish slim cut pants.  He looks so good and feels so comfortable in them that we went back the next day to buy a second pair.  Boy, he was really strutting on the street!  I think the Italians have it right all along, i.e. dress stylishly with confidence and happiness follows.