Dubrovnik: our last day

Lokrum, off the coast, has peacocks!

Just back from our second round of kayaking -- if you book three tours with Adventure Dubrovnik, the third one is free, and while they offer many different ones, kayaking was calling us: we really enjoyed it, and the sea was much calmer today. Therefore we got to go all the way around Lokrum this time, and get more time in the boat overall.

Luckily, Marko was working again, so we got to chat with him a bit more during our snack break on the beach. We exchanged e-mail addresses at the end of the excursion. I really hope we can meet up with him again when we're in the region (or he's in the UK or Canada).

The view from Lokrum

I'm now sipping the orahovac we bought yesterday -- so much currant, it's like fruit cake in a glass; delish! -- while Tea grabs a shower. The plan for the afternoon is to picnic on Lokrum, away from the crowds; lots of cruise ships in today, it seems.

Oh, I almost forgot: oddly, we've been passing our next-door neighbour, Buffet Škola, by each day, despite its many awards. Running low on breakfast food, we'd made the plan to grab a sandwich there before our 10 a.m. tour. So glad we did. They make their own bread, and my smoked ham sandwich was amazing. Great coffee too. The perfect start to the day.

Well, looks like I'm up next for the shower.

Amazing scenery on the island -- firefighters are the only residents, to preserve this.

Lokrum monastery

Update 7:40 p.m.: We missed the ferry to Lokrum by five minutes, and so, with an hour to wait, decided against the picnic in favour of a quick treat of fried smelts and calamari; amazing! And then we still had almost two hours on the island. Finally, get this: we stop at the most remote bar of the trip, a few minutes before the last ferry back, and get two bottles of Tomislav! I wouldn't've dreamed of it, but Tea asked. It reminded me of a nice ruby mild (even though it's a lager); the beer of the trip, as I predicted, and an awesome way to finish it.

Check out our album for more pictures from the island.

Copenhagen: the long-awaited return to Tivoli!

Tea, enjoying the ferris wheel at Tivoli Gardens

[These last few posts of the cruise were written as we sailed back to Amsterdam. We now continue on Thursday, July 7...]

Our last stop was Copenhagen, Denmark. Just a skip from the ship and that famous mermaid was lost in heartache before us.

Uh, no, the other one...

That's better

The walk along the waterfront to the Nyhavn was lovely. I have a soft spot for cities on the water, so by the time we'd stopped for coffee (slash cough pint), taking in those old wooden ships, I was near swooning for Copenhagen. The bill brought me closer to earth, mind -- Copenhagen is probably the most expensive city I've visited. Still, on a cruise littered with jaw-dropping canal shots -- in Amsterdam, of course, but also in Warnemunde and Stockholm -- these pictures are stars for me; particularly the ones from later in the day, when the sun came out.

Nyhavn

The Amazing Race shot on this very location a few days later!

Refreshed once more, we continued on. Our destination? Tivoli Gardens. Said to have inspired Walt Disney, it truly is a magical, lilliputian kingdom, nestled in the bustling city. It's founder, Georg Carstensen, said Tivoli would never be finished, and while the roller coasters and towering drop rides are anything but nineteenth century, the intricate open-air stages, elaborate fountains and rides like the tour of Hans Christian Andersen's works pleasingly harken back to what I see as a time of simpler pleasures.

The highlight of the park -- and the whole day, really -- had to be Tea's reactions: she'd been building Tivoli up so much, leading up to the cruise, and then during it; I couldn't see how it would live up to those special childhood memories. But it did; exceeding them even. It's so great to finally see all these places she's talked of for as long as I've known her, and just adds to the surreal nature of our time over here. I can't believe how these two years have flown by!

Speaking of time flying, such was the extent of our Tivoli fun that, by the time we left, we were entering that all-important "missing the boat" buffer we've learned to give ourselves (expert cruisers that we are /sarcasm). Still, there's always time for one last pint -- in this case, at the fantastic Brewpub København: beautiful, secluded outdoor space, excellent beers -- a must-see for beer lovers!

There was a real vibe to the city as we quickly walked back to the ship: whether it was the late afternoon visit from a previously-absent sun, the more respectable hour, or both and more besides, outdoor seating in the plazas and patios we passed was at a premium, and smiles and laughter abounded.

And so ended another fantastic trip. We all agreed it was our best cruise to date. Check out our Picasa album for more pictures from the day. And if you've stumbled here first, check out the other posts from the trip. (Finally, Stephen put together a movie of the trip; just write me or him if you'd like to see it.)

Baltic cruise: Helsinki: sauna nation

[We pick up my travel journal on the eve of our historic first steps on Russian soil.

The post title comes from the two million saunas in Finland; enough to house the 5.1 million Finns simultaneously, with room to spare.]

July 2, 2011: Helsinki

Back on the boat, docked in Helsinki. What a fantastic day! Not a cloud in the sky. We passed a sign before midday that read 29℃; hilarious, when you consider that we thought this'd be our coldest stop. (It is our most northern one.)

♫ One of these things is not like the others ♪

Sailing into Helsinki was very reminiscent of the approach to Stockholm, with the many treeds islands and islets. As we entered the port -- which is rare amongst the Nordic countries for its tendency to freeze in the winter, and explains Finnish expertise in the manufacture of icebreakers -- sailing vessels lined the horizon: while we were too early for the regatta in Warnemünde, we docked smack in the middle of one in Helsinki. They're very serious about their boating: their oldest yachting club began in the mid 1800s and is still in operation.

The day began with markets: first, the covered Hakaniemi Market Hall, built in 1914. It sold all sorts of food -- including amazing fish, of course -- and I loved all the old photographs of its early days, displayed throughout. Then we took in the nearby, open-air kauppatori (market square). There were all sorts of vendors again, including fishmongers selling their catch right from their boats, those selling all manner of woollen garments -- later, I picked up a pair of wool socks from a woman who spoke very little English; a rarity, I can assure you (at least in Helsinki, despite the two official languages being Finnish and Swedish) -- florists, painters, jewellers, and many, many food stands. We made a note to come back for lunch.

Uspenski Cathedral

So began the religious segment of the day: first, the Eastern Orthodox church, Uspenski Cathedral. Oddly, it was open to tourists during a baptism; tourism trumps all in Helsinki, apparently. Next up was the Lutheran church, Helsinki Cathedral. The dramatic white steps leading up to it, and the cobblestone square and fountain before it, make it a natural congregation point for the Finns, it seems. On this day, it was the start of their gay pride parade, Helsinki Pride.

We could feel the energy building as we made our way to one final church, and the last sight on our list: the famous Rock (Temppeliaukio) Church. (Unfortunately, it was closed for a wedding; scrap that tourism trumps all bit.) This energy reached Notting Hill Festival proportions as we headed back to the kauppatori. All the city's green space -- plenty enough to rival Stockholm, incidentally, which has been widely lauded on that point throughout our cruise -- was lined with picnickers, out to show their support, enjoy the sun, have fun, or all of the above.

Helsinki Cathedral

Frequent readers will know the weight I give a city's vibe or pulse. Helsinki has it in spades, as well as a sense of conviviality and community (if that milktoast term means anything these days) that I hope extends beyond the celebrations of the day; that's the problem with day stops to new places, of course: I don't know. Frankly, residents might risk cardiac arrest, displaying such joie de vivre on a daily basis.

I suspect much of what I felt is there year round, because there was plenty of evidence unrelated to gay pride: one intersection was strung with many laden clotheslines, whether as art or in fun (or both, of course), I couldn't say. In a park, a band included a cardboard box drummer -- and a good one at that!

Everywhere you turned, people were out enjoying themselves, in groups big and small. After seeing a few hen dos in full swing mid afternoon, it came to us that the seasons may have a lot to do with this: in the winter, parts of northern Finland never see the sun, and even Helsinki is limited to three or four hours of daylight for long stretches. Best get out and enjoy that (almost endless, at times) sunlight when it comes then!

I'm forever relating new places to those I've seen. With Helsinki, I struggled. Much of it reminded me of what I'd imagine the southern USA is like, along the coast. (But I'm relying on television for much of that, I hasten to qualify.) The public transportation is all European, though, even if the street cars hint at San Francisco. We really enjoyed Stockholm, but, particularly for a short stay, you can't beat Helsinki's accessibility; it's a walker's city. (I do see a long weekend in Sweden in our future, however, when we have the time to explore.)

We rounded out the day with a (late) fish lunch in the kauppatori -- even tastier than we'd been imagining on our long walk back -- and a boat tour of the harbour. The latter may have squeaked in as the highlight of an amazing day, as it allowed us to take in the sights (and a load off!) in a fully licensed environment.

I met two lost ladies from St. Petersburg earlier in the day -- they were looking for the bus terminal; luckily a passer-by spoke Russian and was able to direct them -- and tomorrow I get to see it. Can hardly wait!

Up next: St. Petersburg, Russia

There are more pictures from the amazing day in our Picasa album, as usual.

Baltic cruise: Stockholm: hottubbing next to greatness

[My travel journal continues, in the wee hours, sailing to Helsinki.

I note that I failed to reference the many crew who wished us a happy Canada Day, unprompted and with barely a pause for breath, once they'd confirmed we weren't illegitimately wearing the swag. A nice touch, Celebrity!]

July 1, 2011: Stockholm

With the time change, it will now be close to midnight. Fog has once more enveloped our view of the forested islands surrounding Stockholm -- a view much like the Thousand Islands, we all agreed. Only we're actually a river, an ocean and a sea away, well on our way to Helsinki, Finland now.

Stockholm was beautiful. It reminded me of Ottawa at times (at least, initially). Once we started hitting the canals, however, Prague was a closer match -- or how I imagine it in the summer. We walked the whole (short, admittedly) day, ending at Skansen. There, we found out just how expensive Stockholm is: park admittance and a meal on the property shortly thereafter saw us drop $180 CAD, for Swedish meatballs -- simply meatballs there, of course -- and pickled herring. [A nice, tasty time, mind you, but not the Tivoli experience Tea later admitted she was hoping for. More on that in later posts. Stay tuned!] Unsurprisingly, we were through our Swedish krona -- trading at 7:1 -- in very short order indeed. Luckily, they also take euros.

Once back onboard, we took our tired feet to the hot tub. There, Stephen and I met a very interesting gentleman: Kamel was a retired businessman from New Delhi who'd been to Austria and the French Riviera prior to flying to Amsterdam to sail with us. Not only that, he'd paid for much of his extended family to join him, and they'd all spent many days (and in some cases, weeks) at these intermediate destinations. "Life's good," was probably Kamel's most common refrain during our many subsequent chats.

I had difficulty believing he was a day over 55, until he explained that he'd been ranked as high as third in the country on the Indian squash circuit; sport has kept him young, although now, at 72, he sticks to golf. Whip smart, and a hoot to boot, early on in the conversation, he asked, "What sport do you play?" Very different from the typical, "Do you play any sports?" He went on to say that while sport is great at any age, it's the key to a long life, firing both the brain and the body. As I write this evening, it's a gravity about the need to commit to tennis again that sits with me.

Up next: Helsinki, Finland

There are more pictures from the day in Stockholm in our Picasa album.

Baltic cruise: the North Sea and Warnemünde, Germany: "Who's the celebrity?"

[We pick up my travel journal with ruminations on sailing out of Amsterdam and the subsequent day in the North Sea.]

June 27, 2011: a few hours out of the 'dam

I can hear Stephen playing with our two-way radios in the second of our adjoining cabins. We had a great day in Amsterdam: Nancy and I joined Tea and Stephen for their second round at the Chinese massage parlour, after a breakfast of toasted sandwiches -- shredded chicken, avocado slices, loads of creamy goat's cheese, and honey were some of wonderful ingredients therein across all our selections -- out in the sun by a canal; it was the way to start the day.

We've just come back from an exclusive area of the ship's spa -- for a price, of course; highlights included form-fitted, heated stone benches and a Turkish bath with cold water taps (so you don't overheat). So relaxed right now. And, look! It's time for supper! What's on the menu tonight?

* * *

In port, looking off the back deck

Supper was strange. Our waiter was too chatty after delivering the food, and there were a number of presentation and spicing problems. Celebrity may be aiming to treat us as such -- at one point, Tea, reading through the events calendar, asked, "Celebrity Wine Tasting... Who's the celebrity?" Nancy's "Us!" was priceless -- but that dining room has nothing on Royal Caribbean.

Lido deck

June 28, 2011: sailing

Breakfast this morning confirms it: the level of English comprehension amongst the front-line servers is significantly below what we're used to, which is a problem when you're relying on them to serve you. (It's a pseudo buffet, for lack of a better term.) However, it wasn't crowded at all, and the air is pleasantly crisp here.

* * *

O.K., all's right in the world after a half hour in the Turkish bath, followed by a swim. Now, lunch time!

11:00 p.m.

We had an excellent supper in the specialty Italian restaurant. Many amusing moments: Stephen's 'cheesecake', which the waiter personally retrieved from the downstairs dining room, and, oddly, had all the attributes of what one would call a cheese plate. [Our waiter was a great sport about it, and each of our many trips back to that restaurant featured many a joke about accents.] And then there was the moment when Tea discovered her dessert garnish was Pop Rocks. Holy snap, crackle, pop, Batman!

* * *

June 30, 2011: Warnemünde

Yesterday was our first stop: Warnemünde, Germany. I've been to Germany a few times now, and thought I'd some idea as to the range of experiences available there; unsurprisingly, I suppose, the sea alters that, my quaint beribboned Deutschland.

Invariably it's these small ports that really speak to me. Despite my family's not having made a living from the sea in a generation, those sounds and smells -- the water lapping, the fresh catches -- take me back to St. John's harbour, and my youth. Warnemünde was closer to the South Shore of Nova Scotia or Howth, Ireland, with many fishing vessels, yes, but also many pleasure craft, as they geared up for their big regatta the following week.

I got chatting to a Norwegian gentleman who couldn't say enough good things about Warnemünde. He'd sailed all over the world, but kept coming back. He loved the proximity of the facilities, and that you could tie up to the boardwalk, amidst it all. He also had very nice things to say about Canada. (Another Roots swag win; that's why he'd stopped me.) He said it was very beautiful, and that he'd really enjoyed his time in Halifax and St. John's. I left him with an even greater determination to see the fjords; he was a very proud, if reserved, Norwegian.

A three hour train journey from Warnemünde, we quickly discard Berlin as a potential destination for the day. Instead, we set out for the nearby town of Rostock, first by train, then by tram. The Old Town was lovely, with an open air market surrounded by Dutch-gabled buildings (much like we'd seen in Zaanse Schans a few months ago).

Rostock -- across from city hall

We passed the large tower that features on the label of their brewery's beer [which I believe was the Western Gate Tower, and part of the old city wall, marking the original limits], circled by birds of all sorts, including swifts, I'm convinced, thanks to my studies on Lake Como. Bird watching has really captured my imagination as a pursuit, although I'm convinced I lack patience for it.

M'm... goulash and pils

Unfortunately, the brewery was closed, but we found a shaded patio for sampling their Rostocker pils anyway, and the house special of goulash. Stephen asked for a burger, and while it didn't look promising initially -- we think the waitress was attempting to literally translate his request for a hamburger -- he absolutely loved his selection; we couldn't get him to shut up about it for the rest of the day, truth be told.

From there, we took the train back to Warnemünde. We sat in a large car lined with folded seats -- for bicycles, mostly, we soon found out, as new arrivals pulled out hidden belts to hold their many cycles securely, while they folded down a seat beside them. (Oh, if only they'd had a car like that on the train from Schipol to Amsterdam; that train was convenient for backpackers, not cruisers.)

Back in Warnemünde, munching on a basket of fresh strawberries from a nearby stand, we made our way down the boardwalk to the pier. It was a lovely sunny day, but even so, the sight of hundreds -- if not thousands -- of people enjoying the white sandy (man made) beach and surf took our breath away for a moment; not what we expected of the Baltic!

Aside: both in an elaborate fountain in Rostock, and on the beach in Warnemünde, there were children playing, naked as the day they were born; their screeches and giggles were pure joy. It can't help but warm your heart, something so simple and natural, in a world that can seem anything but for long stretches.

We wiled away the rest of the afternoon on patios, sampling other local beers, and fried and pickled herring -- the latter is lush with fresh dill! It was getting on for 9:00 p.m. as we headed back to the ship, the sun still high in the sky. A rare treat (for cruisers) awaited us: live folk music up on deck as we sailed for Stockholm, the sun finally setting a hour or so before midnight.

Up next: Stockholm, Sweden

There are more pictures of our first days on the cruise in our on ship album, and in our Germany one.

La bella Varenna

[Notes from our short trip to Northern Italy the weekend past.]

May 27, 2011: Varenna, Lake Como, Italy

I'm writing this on a balcony, looking across Lake Como at the town of Bellagio, while classical music that I know, but can't name (Dvořák?), plays in a villa further down the coast. [The Wedding March could be heard a bit later, so I thought the first piece might also be Mendelssohn. Now that I'm home and fiddling, I know it was Bach's Air on the G String, at a point past that distinctive harpsichord.]

I am so happy to be here. So happy the ash cloud moved along. We had some rough weather coming into Malpensa airport, but the torrents didn't even last our whole bus ride to Milan.

Now... Well, now, it's just gorgeous.

Our train, in Varenna

We met a lovely older lady on the train to Varenna. She was very curious about two Canadians traveling there, but unfortunately my Italian wasn't up to the explanation.

This is the best view I've ever had from a hotel room or apartment. Ever. (And we booked it at the last minute at a little more than €200 per night.)

San Giorgio, Varenna

There goes the church bell. I'm almost giddy. [And a bit disjointed. What's with all these new paragraphs?] The sound of the lake lapping at the shore, the birdsong... Where could the locals possibly vacation? [I was reading Beppe Severgnini's La Bella Figura at the time, and he says Italians go abroad simply to reaffirm that they have it the best.]

The sun is filtering through the slowly dissipating clouds, down on the heavily forested mountain face; stunning. We came through so many tunnels on the train journey here. (Jules, Dev would love this place! Mountains in the foreground, snowcapped Alps at the horizon. Sigh.)

The hotel stocks Menabrea 150° Anniversario, "the flagship" of Forst (according to one of my beer books), in the mini-bar; nice touch. There's also a little grocery store across the street. Loving the Royal Victoria so far.

Parts of Milan reminded us both of Naples. Getting Severgnini's perspective on the same route, from Malpensa to Milan, was a treat, particularly when informed by Solly's take on Italians: I finished his book, The Xenophobe's Guide to the Italians, on the flight over.

10:00 p.m.

After the storm

Such an entertaining storm earlier! Stayed in the room, popping out for snaps of the scene, long past supper time. Eventually went out to our little grocery, and then to the pizzeria/hotel across the street, Albergo del Sole. There was a big family ahead of us, but it was well worth the wait. It's clearly a favourite with the locals: they moved a Reserved sign to a different table for one couple; the guy immediately went back to the kitchen to say hello. And it's cheap too: our appetizer, wine and pizzas only came to €32! We left a big tip, in case they made a mistake, as we'll definitely be back.

* * *

May 29, 2011

The view from our balcony

We're taking it easy today, beside the pool. It looks out over the lake to Bellagio. There's barely a cloud in the sky, again.

I was just saying to Tea that, in idle moments, I'm still trying to categorize this place. And failing. The view outside our window, off our balcony, convinces me we're cruising the Mediterranean each morning. This outdoor space reminds me of a resort, if only in my desire to stay on the property and relax -- no resort I've stayed at could hope to replicate these sights and this solace.

Yesterday, we took a slower ferry down to Como; it was about a two-hour journey. (You can take a faster one that will get you there in less than half the time, by paying a supplement.) It was so relaxing. Almost too much so: I nodded off in my seat, a cat in a sunbeam, and burned my thighs and forearms. (I'm writing this in the shade. Tenderly.)

On the ferry to Como

And such sights! We must've passed twenty towns on the way down, stopping at close to a dozen of them. The combination of the brightly painted houses -- just like the outport communities back home in Newfoundland -- the heavily forested mountainsides, the terraced gardens, the single belfry of each community, and the crew chatting in Italian behind us was pure bliss.

We heard a lady behind us comment on the water being too rough for her boat, so she and her husband decided to take the ferry to Cernobbio (two stops before Como) to meet friends for lunch instead. I cannot imagine living here, or how calm the water must typically be if that is considered rough.

We were hungry by the time we docked in Como, and so set about finding a restaurant. Nothing could be simpler in Como. We were soon sat on a shaded patio across from the amazing Duomo (Cathedral). Tea had a delicious bellini with her pizza, while I had a piadina -- unleavened Italian bread folded over like a wrap -- with cured beef, goat's cheese and chicory; a fantastic combination.

We then wandered the streets -- very much like Florence, I found, particularly around the Duomo -- and open-air markets, before taking the fast ferry back as far as Bellagio. It was so fast, compared with the morning. I dozed again, below deck this time, thankfully. The biggest surprise was that Tea didn't need to take any motion sickness medication, as it was a rough ride at times, as we crossed others' wakes.

The Duomo, in Como

Bellagio is beautiful, but for your money, staying in Varenna or Menaggio and taking day trips over has to be the way to do it. Still, at no point did I feel like I was dabbling my toes in the pool of my betters: Tea got gelato at the oldest gelateria in town (from the turn of the century, no less), and we enjoyed drinks on a patio later, right down by the lake -- at no point was anyone anything less than warm, friendly and helpful.

We were enjoying ourselves so much that we missed the last passenger ferry to Varenna. No matter. We caught a car ferry back shortly thereafter. And what a view, pulling in as the last of the day's light hit our beautiful town. (Ours for the weekend, anyway.)

We stopped for supper shortly after docking, as we figured we wouldn't leave our room again if we went straight back: the local wine we bought in Bellagio, Sant'Andrea Valtellina Superiore, from the north, and a special harvest of grapes on the thirtieth of November each year -- for a mere €17 -- was calling our names.

Waiting for the ferry in Bellagio

Vecchi Varenna caught our eye with its inspired, confident menu, and then rewarded us with such good, beautifully-presented food and friendly wait staff. Add to this their passion for serving locally sourced food from a menu they change monthly, and I absolutely cannot recommend this place enough. The prices are even reasonable. I defy anyone to correctly guess their bill based on Vecchi Varenna's fantastic location, down by the water, and the calibre of their food -- both its taste and presentation. Honestly, it felt like a glimpse of the life of the rich and famous -- as I imagine it, anyway -- all for €85 (which included excellent wine, starters and dessert).

Pulling into Varenna

At the risk of boring you, dear reader, one final point: an Italian family with two young children came in partway through our meal. Later, as Tea and I wondered what the children would eat off the (largely lake-fish based) menu, they came out with meals made especially for them. At no point was it a big production, for them or the wait staff. And the little ones were nibbling off their parents' plates of local delicacies to boot. Such a contrast to the chaos of the large British party at Albergo del Sole the other night; their staff were saints for what they put up with.

10:30 p.m.

We weren't out and about for long before we settled on a lakeside cafe for another break. Over rosé, bruschetta, prosciutto and melon, and pizza (topped with the most exquisite mushrooms), we watched the world pass by.

Cuppa Fruita

A woman in a bikini, rowing nowhere quickly, puzzled us. I'd almost accepted Tea's theory of a fisherwoman -- "Does anyone actually work in a bikini?" I wondered -- when she tied up to a buoy a bit out from shore and proceeded to lay out for a few hours. I guess that's one way to stake your claim on a sunbeam. As Tea enjoyed her enormous 'cuppa fruita' -- "Do you want to share?" should've been a hint at its size, but Tea persevered -- the sunbather called it a day, expertly guiding her boat in.

At this point, Tea decides she wants to hike up the quarter mile to Castillo di Vezio. An Aussie couple we met partway up let me know how it could be worse: their hiking epiphany came after three bottles of rosé.

Such a view! Probably the most spectacular we've been treated to to date. It recalls memories of our drive through the Alps last year, but then add the lake beside them, train tunnels between the two, brightly-coloured roofs all 'round, and the quaint -- particularly from this height -- Varenna, with its belfry, below us. And the cherry on top was the sun setting on another gorgeous day.

After quickly freshening up at the hotel, it was back out to the attached restaurant for yet more pizza -- Tea concluded it was the best so far -- wine, and, to finish, our first taste of grappa.

* * *

May 30, 2011

Another piercing blue sky. I'm on our balcony (again), fascinated by the variety of birds that live around here; and even right above me now, in the roof of our hotel. One species in particular has captured my imagination: they're small and dark, with what seems to be a splash of white at their throats. The odd bit, in my mind, however, is their movements: I mistook them for bats yesterday evening, the flit of their wings is so quick and free from visible feathers.

And then there's their cry: easily twice them, so strong and sharp, like a falcon's. They don't seem to go far, but circle our hotel and call out to one another. I've spent so long trying to get a decent shot of one -- without success -- but oh, how they surround my head with flapping and screams the moment I sit down to pen this. Clearly I amuse them.

[Subsequent discussions, and a flip through Collins Bird Guide, suggest that they were a species of swift, because they never seemed to land in that roof nest and their voice matches the description to a T. Thanks, Katy!]

Speaking of amusement, I think the cleaning staff got a good chuckle from us. Tea heard them laughing and whispering outside our door this morning when they found our homemade sign. (We didn't have a "Do not disturb" sign when we checked in, and kept having the Italian, non-English-speaking maids come in on us in the mornings.) I'm pretty sure the translation of our sign would be closer to "No trouble, please," like we feared being held up by gunslingers each morn.

At least they replaced it with a proper one.

2:00 p.m.

In the gardens of the Villa Monastero

Enjoying some wine -- a pinot grigio for Tea and Villa Sandi prosecco for me -- in the cafe of the Villa Monastero. It's amazing what the waiter can offer from these limited facilities; my gnocchi is delicious, and Tea says the Torta Santa Honore is heavenly; like a roulade.

What a way to spend the day. Before this, we wandered the gardens of the Hotel Villa Cipressi, and dipped our toes in the lake from a (very secluded) public access.

5:00 p.m.

The beach outside our hotel

The gardens continued well down the coast. So beautiful. By the time we're up and back, however, the heat was getting to us. Our hotel pool called.

So cool. "Like swimming in a glass of water," is how I put it; no chlorine to speak of, and unheated. Sipping our Sant'Andrea poolside now, dozing off. There's talk of seeing the boardwalk in Menaggio later, or maybe tomorrow.

* * *

May 31, 2011

Definitely a muted feel to the morning. Like we've had a four-day party and this is the morning after, is how Tea put it. Strikes close to the mark, I'd say.

* * *

We're at Varenna's station now, waiting for our train to Milan. Thick black smoke blanketed the area as we started up the hill from town; looked like the station was in flames. We got the tracks in view in time to see an old-fashioned steam-powered locomotive leaving with its load. Incredible. That's a sound from film and recordings for me.

Hard to believe this is a travel day. Started walking by the lakeside, watching swans and ducks pick at yesterday's bread, discarded in the water from nearby restaurants. Then we got the ferry to Menaggio and walked its lovely boardwalk for a bit. When we got hungry, we stopped for a fantastic lunch on the lakeside patio of the Hotel Bellavista.

In Menaggio

We even caught the ferry back to Varenna in time to enjoy a glass of wine on the waterfront. Such a relaxing day -- in spite of the prospect of driving from Gatwick looming ahead of us.

* * *

On the bus now. Ah, Milan Centrale; such grandeur and beauty. It, and our train -- so, so old -- inspire romance. Well, and the kids sneaking kisses around the corners. Severgnini likes the noise of the trains, and the open windows -- for precious ventilation -- certainly permit a cacophony. He also warns us to reject this romanticism, though.

* * *

Antipasti at the Bellavista

An old man preps for surgery in the toilet. A young woman pumps her arms to an unheard beat -- to squeals of delight from the other end of her Facetime et al. conversation, judging by her smile -- half a bottle of wine to one side.

Malpensa airport is alive.

Speaking of wine, to sit down in a restaurant, and enjoy a delicious red -- oh, the wine we've had on this trip! -- and al dente pasta sounds about as far from the airport experience as one could get. And yet, here it is; able to support the number of travelers around me and then some.

These Italians are on to something: why deprive yourself, even if you have somewhere to be? There's always time.

* * *

[We've been home a few days now. Time enough to realize what an amazing trip we had; honestly, probably my favourite one to date.

The drive back was tiring and a bit stressful -- largely thanks to the closure of the A417 near Cirencester and subsequent detour to the M5 -- but, oh, the sights we saw. To have the Alps, but also the feeling that you're by the sea -- it doesn't feel like a lake -- checks two of my top-five boxes. Then to have that food, that wine and that weather... Paradise.

As usual, we have a Picasa album with more pictures from the trip. Tea has an album on Facebook as well.]