Venice

The great thing about taking a train vs. the plane is that you meet the greatest people. Unlike a plane where you dutifully sit in your assigned seat in your designated section and hardly look around, on the train you sit across from people who may not speak the same language or who grew up in your home town. That's how small the world really is!

We were fortunate to spend the 4.5 hour trip from Naples to Venice with a great couple on their 15th wedding anniversary trip from Brazil! They not only spoke Italian but fluent English as well. Once we became acquainted we learned he was a cardiac surgeon and they were both on their second marriage.

The time went quickly and by the time we arrived in Venice we had befriended at least four other riders, most of whom were on an anniversary trip.

Upon our arrival in Venice, we thought for sure we would have to catch a taxi to get to the canals but Noooo! We were right in Venice and it was our good fortune to find a friendly local who guided us to the correct water taxi. From there, we determined the closest stop to our hotel.

I bought a 48 hour water taxi pass and, with a wave of the card in front of each stop, we were able to jump on and off a taxi after a wonderful ride through the canals.

Venice is a city like no other. Big enough not to be able to fathom it all in a weekend but small enough to understand the layout after a little map studying.

Our hotel, the “Locanda Sturion” (Sturgeon Accommodations) was right on the canal and our room overlooked the grand canal. It was 69 steps up three flights to get to the front desk, but by this time, we were in pretty good shape. Despite being a little winded having to carry our bags up the stairs, we were rewarded with the most spectacular views: not only of the canal but of the famous Rialto bridge just a hop, skip and a splash away from the hotel.

All along the waterway were cute restaurants with names like “Ristorante Flagella” and “Comida Turistica” - very quaint, very expensive.

After determining that your basic 40 minute gondola ride was about the same as the closing costs on a refinance, we opted to ride the water taxi for the entire route. We were not disappointed.

It wasn't planned but we caught the 'taxi' to Lido just as the sun was setting and I snapped some decent photos of the cityscape as a cloudburst approached.

A walk through the narrow streets of Venice rewarded us with..more pizzarias and gelato outlets. However, neatly interspersed were some interesting shops brimming with cheesy tourist crap and the ever-present Murano glass, much of it was actually spectacular but exorbitant.

One of five 15 minute treks to St.Mark's square gleaned one of the most memorable parts of our trip. We decided we were finally in good enough shape to tackle the 600' high camponile to view the city from its highest point.

After paying our eight Euro's we got to the front and...entered the elevator for a 30 second ride to the top. Our supreme effort paid off as we exited to a 360 degree view of Venice and outlying islands.

What really surprised me was that, from five stories up, you cannot see one canal. A combination of an eight foot wide canal with a four story building resulted in the appearance of a 'solid' city without water breaks.

The magic of the moment was shattered by the piercing cries of school children. We were about to call it a minute when, like manna from heaven, the biggest, baddest bell started to toll. And it didn't just strike 12, it ran a freakin' 100 times. We were stunned (to say the least!) by the bell pealing at 80 decibels. Not only will we forever remember the overwhelming clanging but it served to quiet the school children until they descended the elevator to return to their classroom.

Venice is a town of contrasts. We had left the last week of our journey to the fates. We were seriously considering Venice on our itinerary but weren't sure we could fit it in. What surprised us was, with the train, nothing in Italy is more than a six hour trip from anywhere else (at least in1st class -direct).

No one didn't have an opinior about Venice. We opted to jump in the fray to judge for ourselves and I, for one, am glad we went. While I don't regret not taking a gondola ride, I feel that having gone there was one of the most important parts of our trip. It's like no other city and, despite its shortcomings, I would not have missed it for the world. I would definitely return if only to buy and prepare some of the freshest fruits, vegetables, and seafood one could ever find. Besides, our initial plans did not include a trip to the Adriatic Sea. That in itself was worth the price of admission.

Florence (Firenze)

The following events took place after we left Rapallo and the Cinque Terre and before we headed south to Sorrento.

I have been glad I was able to take lots of pictures of this trip and upload them from the camera to the computer and then to picasaweb. That way, should I lose the camera, I'd still have the computer and if I lost that, I'd still have the pictures online for re-downloading (is that a word?)

For the sheer volume of historic artwork, you can't beat 'Firenze' – unless you're in Rome. As home of DaVinci, Galileo, Michaelangelo, the Medicis, there is practically no end to the architecture, sculptures, paintings and churches and museums to house it all.

Despite our best laid plans, we didn't get to see everything we wanted. That isn't to say we didn't see volumes! First was a tour through the Uffizi Gallery where Botticelli's “Birth of Venus” awaited. Since we had the foresight to purchase tickets for both the Uffizi and the Accademia (where the “David” statue is housed), we didn't have to wait in the horrendously long lines outside. We had an awesome tour guide who admonished us not to try and see everything in our visit. Rather, he suggested we think of the plethora of sights as a menu.

“Choose a few items from that menu and savor them. You'll get a lot more from your visit than if you try to sample every item.” He was right. In the Uffizi, we didn't bother with most of the art. We stayed focused on important objects and paintings that told us something important about the time they were created. We looked in depth at perhaps 15 objects d'art and got a sense of how everything fit in to a timeframe. We also looked at seminal works that defined a new period or was revolutionary in some way.

It was funny how he kept shushing other gallery visitors and then paranthetically telling us "People act as if they're in the grocery store, not a museum."

We did visit a number of churches for their amazing frescos. I got a real sense of appreciation for how the church dominated daily life. I saw how religious scenes and subjects fueled the renaissance. As time went by, the works that spoke most to me were those by artists who started to break the mold. Michaelangelo and DaVinci pushed the limit and sometimes pissed off their benefactors (such as the Pope) by depicting scenes that pissed them off. (Like “Jesus is looking right at you” or “What's with the naked people?”)

The statue of David completely threw me. Of course I was expecting a huge marble depiction that was set off from everything else in its own gallery. What I wasn't expecting was the emotional reaction brought on by the facial expression (he really looks like he's planning on how exactly to kill Goliath) or the realism of the piece seen by Michaelangelo's attention to musculature, veins and arteries and other characteristics that made it plain he knew his anatomy.

In fact, it was a blasphemous work in some ways because it became clear he had to have dissected real bodies for him to have understood the underlying human musculature to such a degree. Apparently, a doctor friend in a local hospital invited him to view corpses late at night so he could understand better how the body was put together. If the church authorities had found out about this, he might have lost his artistic license.

We stayed at a hotel half a block from the Ponetvecchio (literally “Old Bridge”). Like a lot of other structures in the area, the building we were constructed in the 15th century and decorated about the same time. The one saving grace was that we had access to a rooftop garden where we could enjoy a vista of the entire city.

There, one evening after walking four or five miles around town, we brought our dinner plus some wine and cheese upstairs and met a terrific couple, Craig and Sonnika from Pretoria, South Africa.

Craig is a cardio-vascular technician in private practice and has a two hectare parcel on which they built a house for something ridiculous like 100,000 Rand. A rand is worth about a US dime, so the whole kit and kaboodle cost them about $10,000 in US dollars.

He spoke so lovingly about his country and the area he lives he enticed me to look into living there. They have a live-in whom they pay the equivalent of $140 month to act as a nannie and cook. They do, however, cover her room, board and medical but, compared to what it would cost in the US for the same services, it seems like a total deal if not slavery.

Only problem for them is Jacob Zuma of the Africal National Congress was just elected. They seem to feel their lifestyle may be in jeopardy if he has his way with the country. So, while buying property and hiring help at a mega-affordable price seems compelling, I'm not sure it's worth possibly ending up getting boiled in a big black kettle.

At any rate, they were lovely people and they invited us to join them the next day on a tour of Tuscany that was to include Sienna, lunch at an organic winery, a visit to San Gimignano and Pisa. We took them up on it and were not disappointed. It was especially nice not to have to walk since they are 60 miles apart from each other.

Pompeii

Pompeii

Apologies to anyone who reads this and thinks there's another way to spell Pompeii. I learned there are several but it depends on whether you're American, Italian or dead (like a Pompeiian).

As we were boarding the dreaded Circumvesuviana train, we met a couple from Sydney Australia, engaged in a conversation that lasted all the way to the front gate and started off to discover the ruins together. Almost immediately we were separated but had traded cell phone numbers so got back in touch within a couple of hours. We rented English headsets so we could enjoy a self-guided tour and were amazed by the incredible civilization that included everything from food kitchens with multiple pots for service 'on-the-go” meals to brothers complete with paintings suggesting various sexual positions one might try.

Most of the really valuable mosaics and valuable artifacts had been long-ago removed to the National museum in Naples and I swear if I ever get to that part of the world again I swear I'll go there.

It was rather warm that day but practically every day we'd been out it had either rained or threatened so we were sure to bring rain gear. As it turned out, it only sprinkled for a brief period before we were once again relegated to short sleeves. It stayed that way the rest of our time there.

For us, the most amazing things about Pompeii were the fact that you could glean so much about what life was like there from what little still remains.

Rutted roads with crosswalks between where the cartwheels went, fast food outlets, stables for horses with hay lofts, beautiful homes with courtyards that featured fountains and gardens, bath houses with hot and cold running water, indoor plumbing and toilets – all these features were functioning in this city of 20,000 over 2300 years ago.

There was also evidence of graffiti that noted such inflammations as the fact that Nero's mother was a mortal (such blasphemy!)

The experience was definitely one of the high points of our trip and, tiring as it was, the experience will always stick with me of being in the middle of a coliseum where battles occurred between gladiators and wild animals.

The entire site is over 60 acres and only 60 percent of it has been excavated. After its discovery in the late 1700's excavation began and has been ongoing since that time. It is pretty obvious where future excavations will occur and who knows what new discoveries will be uncovered.

Despite it being fairly early in the year, there were still quite a few people there. Until we got off the 'main drag', the streets of Pompeii were still crowded, mostly with Italian tourists.

Perhaps next time, we'll have a chance to visit Herculaneum, the other city buried during the eruption of Mt. Vesuvius in 79 A.D.

Speaking of the crowds, I recall Margi having told me of how many fewer people there were in the cities we visited when she was here with her mother in 1980. II shudder to think what the crowds must be like in the summer. In addition, the heat, at least from Rome south must be withering. Not a combination I'd like to try!

Capri

Here's a place I'd always thought I'd never see. Pronounced CA-pri (file under "everything you know is wrong"), it's only a 15 minute ferry ride from the mainland.

With an allotted three hour time window, we opted to visit the town of Capri and skip Annacapri, the more sedate of the two towns. Next visit perhaps.

Upon arrival, we opted for the 10 minute funicular ride to town rather than a long steep hike. The town square is apparantly the place to be seen. Instead of hiking through town past the Fendi and Prada stores, we chose a long, narrow cobblestone path. We were rewarded with scenes of local life: butcher and barber shops, markets with fresh produces, beauty salongs and family settings - courtyards, mothers walking their kids in strollers - and were finally rewarded with an over-the-rooftop view of the town and a long view out to sea.

While we did walk through town and were impressed with the utter charm of the place, the preponderance of high-end boutiques was a bit of a turn-off - a la "Life Styles of the Rich and Famous". Still, the weather (windy and warm) and the ambience was a winning combination.

As we headed back down the funicular to the ferry terminal, we mused how none of the locals would be caught dead in the type of clothes and accessories sold on the streets to tourists.

Just prior to arrival time for the ferry, I stole away to get some sunset shots of boats and the beach but returned to Margi at the docking station before the boat arrived.

We waited and waited...and waited.

This was a big ferry that was supposed to come and fetch us. As 7:00 PM came and went, we began to get nervous as there were really no other passengers around us. There was another ferry on the other side of the breakwater but we believed that was going to Naples and, as it turned out we were correct.

Finally, we asked some local fisherman nearby when the Sorrento ferry was scheduled to dock.

“No more!” they said. “All gone.” “No more tonight.”

What the f....?

Not having anything with us other than our wallets and windebreakers, we decided there was no way we were going to stay overnight in a $350 Euro hotel. Besides, with no makeup or toiletries Margi had her mind made up.

We raced to the other ferry and got in line. As we attempted to board, I tried to explain to one of the crew that we had Sorrento tickets but he ignored me. There, beside us, were two other couples who also had ferry tickets to Sorrento.

There was no way they were going to let us on board without Naples tickets. Since the ferry was about to leave, there was no time for us to run back to the ticket office at the other end of the breakwater.

From the flybridge the captain saw the commotion and I looked up, and pleaded for him to let us board. When I made the gesture with my hands that we would pay, he waved us aboard.

Not glad about heading an hour out of our way to Naples, nor about the prospect of having to take the local train back to Sorrento we decided it was still better than trying to find accommodations on the island.

Soon after we got under way, one of the crew approached us and commanded me to accompany him to the bridge. There, in the aircraft-like cockpit with three other officers, I met the captain. In very rapid Italian he began a rant on what-on-earth-I'll-never-know.

After he had his say, in broken Italian with a little Spanish thrown in, I explained as I showed him my Sorrento ticket that we had been stranded on the island, as were four other Americans when the Sorrento ferry failed to show. He would have none of it and insisted I pay 32 Euros to one of the crew members.

Not feeling I had much choice, other than swimming, I paid and returned to my seat. I assume the other couples also had to pay up.

Then, 10 minutes before we reached Naples, one of the crew came back to our seat, muttered something incomprehensible and nearly threw my money back at me. Apparently, my explanation about the ferry stranding us did the trick and, perhaps after checking with the ferry authority, learned the truth.

The six of us met on the dock and decided to check out whether a taxi or the train would be a better alternative to get back to Sorrento. We negotiated a 20 Euro per person ride and squeezed into what could have been our last ride ever.

To say the ride back was harrowing would spare you the gallons of adrenaline we excreted on road back. The driver, no doubt steeped in either racing in Le Mans or in destruction derby took us on an unforgettable ride, a lesson really, in how to negotiate through traffic when they just won't get out of the way. He was clearly on a schedule as we did the hour-long ride in 48 minutes and broke most of the known American driving laws. As he passed on curves, honked incessantly, tailgated and squeezed between two cars as oncoming cars drew near, Margi was freaking out in the back seat while I tried to steep myself in conversation in the front seat with a young gal who, strangely enough, came from Malibu.

Finally, after all the blood had drained from our faces, we arrived and swore off any kind of transportation for at least 48 hours. Time to drink!

Sorrento

Our arrival in Naples was accompanied by a lot of anxiety. Every book we read and everyone we talked to warned us about how dirty and scary we would find this city..

In truth, we were so nervous and kept looking over our shoulders, we were probably overprepared. The train station had plenty of polizia and we were so focused on finding our connection to Sorrento and the Amalfi coast, we were probably uber-concious of our surroundings. Within minutes, we learned about where to buy tickets and find our connecting train and were soon awaiting its arrival.

The trains run pretty much right on schedule all over Europe. Our “Circumvesuviana” train was there when scheduled and we and hundreds of other piled on and scrambled for the best seats. We were located in an “in-between” car for the first half of the hourlong trip but not because there were no seats. Instead we chose to stand because it gave us more control over our luggage.

Finally, around the Pompeii station, the crowd started to lighten and by the time we got to Sorrento, it was like paradise. Orange trees everywhere, clean streets, song sparrows and gulls whooping it up. The town is relatively small but we caught a taxi the four blocks to our hotel and were directed around a narrow corner to the entrance.

Nicest accommodations so far with brand new marble everything. The front desk people really had a smattering of English skills but it didn't matter.

Now for a short breather to ease our rattled nerves after a jolting hour-long train ride standing up and we're off to Capri.

Rapallo and the Cinque Terre (Five Lands)

We have started to become familiar if not comfortable with train stations. After our first experience with Milan, everything else seems calm by comparison. The combination of masses of people scurrying in every direction, seemingly everyone smoking, the incessant echoic din of the three repeating commercials on big screen TV's combined to elicit an anxiety level to which we had to learn to accommodate.

We found our train faster this time and hopped in even though it was a half an hour before departure time. Our seats were opposite one another in a six seat enclosed compartment. Once in the ultimately relative quiet of the train car, we were able to settle into a quiet lunch of salad, seafood medley in heavy oil (hint: bring a roll of paper towels), olives, bay shrimps and half bottle of wine. For a luxurious 20 minutes we reveled in our meal. When done, I had just enough time to gather it all up and deposit it in the trash on the platform before our compartment mates found their way in. We were delighted at our timing being able to eat and clean up just prior to the arrival of the others.

The two hour trip to Rapallo was pretty quiet as everyone seemed to protect their personal spaces. However, a half an hour outside of Genoa we pulled out our Italy map. The lady across from us – a Colleen Dewhurst lookalike – suddenly took an interest when we wondered aloud what river we were crossing. She become progressively more animated as she showed us all the Tuscan towns surrounding Florence she felt we should visit. We ended up exchanging cards when we learned she also was on the way to Rapallo to be with her husband. It was our first prolonged encounter with someone who spoke practically no “Inglese” but with whom we had a significant and lively interaction.

Upon arrival at the Rapallo train station, we were immediately enchanted with what was obviously a resort town. Once out of the station, we bought our Cinque Terre train tickets. They allowed us six hours of travel between the towns of Riomaggiore and Monterosso del Mar.

We easily found a taxi (most Mercedes wagons) who, for 14 Euros whisked us a whole three blocks to the entrance of the Hotel Vesuvio. I was a bit taken aback by the cost but the man at the reception desk assured me 10 Euros plus 1 per bag was typical.

The assistant guided us to our room – top floor in the corner and we knew we had nailed it: two oceanfront balconies with louvered windows with marbled verandas with sculpted corbels and railings. The sea air was rejuvinating and despite some traffic noise from the street below, the enchanting views more than made up for it.

It took us only a few minutes before we were out the door and plying the narrow streets. This was Italy! Everywhere we looked were small shops selling everything from pasta to pets, open market stalls with exotic fruits and packaged foods wrapped in plastic with indecipherable writing.

Up until now, I had come to believe that Italy was just a step above Mexico. It, too, is the land of 'manana'. The infrastructure, as typified in the Milan Estacione Central, was lacking in some pretty obvious ways - benches, lousy direction boards for determination of where your train was, the constant din of cheesy commercials, surly information booth workers, and the need for constant vigilance of pickpockets and beggars.

Now, here we were in Rapallo which, for all intents and purposes, was well-run, had excellent infrastructure and most important, was technologically up-to-date with Wi-Fi instantly available and where boats and trains ran on time. Many people spoke English and were cheerful and helpful.

I don't quite recall how we decided to stay in Rapallo. Our original intent was to stay somewhere in the Cinque Terre. However, the guide books warned us the accommodations in each of the small towns were 'an adventure'. One of the luxuries Margi is generally unwilling to give up is a bathtub and none of the places we found there offered one. Some of the other nearby towns offered quality rooms but didn't have the range of choices available in Rapallo. It seemed sheer luck that we should have ended up in the choicest of all the port towns near the 'five lands'.

Next morning, we walked five minutes to the train station in time to catch the train to Riomaggiore. This is translated “Major River” although we learned it has been centuries since the river flowing through town was a major river. Now it's more like a stream. However, pictures we have seen of the Mediterranean in winter suggest it could, at times become a torrent.

It took nearly 1.5 hours to reach Riomaggiore after eight or ten stops at the other towns. While this was second class travel, the seats were still comfortable if not as clean or spacious as other train seats we had enjoyed. Once off the train, we headed up a case of very old stairs to buy our park tickets. These would allow us to walk the park and take all public transportation other than the train the ran between the towns.

The walkway to Manarola was narrow and precipitous. It was also stunning. The sheer cliffs down to the sea were easily 200 feet and the trail had been sculpted from the mountain. In some parts, it ran through tunnels. At one point there was an opening with a bench to which dozens of locks had been permanently attached to the legs with love affirmations – a symbol we had first discovered in Como and which was to become a recurring theme of our trip.

Ten minutes into our walk, we spied Manarola in the distance. At that moment, I realized we had completely missed Riomaggiore and headed back in the other direction. After our arrival back at the ticket station, we headed through a long tunnel about 500 feet long. Along the walls were the most beautiful ceramic, shall and granite mosaics we had ever seen. They consisted primarily of ocean scenes, depictions of shells and sea life. It motivated me to create something similar when we got back home. We'll see.

Once in Riomaggiore, I knew why this area has been deemed a historic and protected park. This town, and the others I was to learn, were ancient fishing and grape-growing villages set on rugged cliffs. Its complete lack of building codes resulted in structures being built 'higgledy-piggledy' on top and beside one another. The colorful paint., mostly of yellows, beiges and reds were faded and chipping to reveal brickwork and stucco beneath.

Narrow, cobbled streets features shops from typical touristy stores selling postcards and trinkets to jewelry, clothing and art shops worth a second look. Everywhere were pizza and gelato establishments but the unique architecture in an unique location were worth everything else we had to endure.

Como

Please be sure to see more pics at picasaweb.google.com/gmenken


The train station at Milan was certainly no picnic. People heading each and every way bumping into each other, smoking everywhere with a general sense of disorganization if not pandemonium. There was a central display showing the trains and their numbers with their final destination but not the track number. We had to ask several official-looking people before we were sure about which track ours. For a while we sat at one only to find it was a 'local' and that ours was at nearly the opposite end of the station. All the while huge big screen TV displays blared the same three commercials repeatedly to the point of distraction. It was the sound track to a surreal event.

Once we did find our compartment, away enough from the din to filter it out, we unpacked our lunch and spread out. In first class, a sense of civility prevailed and the car was nearly empty.

Like clockwork, the train left on time and, after passing increasingly rural scenery we arrived at the Como station, not more than half an hour after we left.

Como is a world away from the madness of Milan. The trees, quality of cars, even the demeanor of the people was noticeably improved (or maybe it was us!). For 8 Euros the taxi driver delivered us to the Hotel Marco's (sic) and we were shown our lovely waterfront room.

So far, nearly all the beds we have encountered have been hard as nail. No sleeping in here! As everywhere pizzarias and gelato shops are ubiquitous. It has been quite a challenge finding food for Margii that does not contain either wheat or sugar. They are the national staple.

One of the first things we noticed were the birds. Pigeons, of course, are everywhere but the swans and colorful variety of waterfowl were a welcomed surprise.

A stroll along the waterfront rewarded us with scenic vistas of the mountains and towns. The Italiante villas forced me to wonder why most of them were shuttered. I came to realize there were just summer homes. It would probably by prohibitive to heat them during what was most certainly a cold and snowy winter. Easily 5-6000 s.f each and some no doubt more than 10,000, I got a sense of how the really wealthy must live. I would imagine many of them have been turned into flats by now but many haven't. Along the walk, the stonework was awe-inspiring. Numerous places, outcroppings were turned into abutments and wherever possible, bridges created waterways for private boats to enter and be stored in boathouses under landscaped front yards.

We took a funicular a thousand or so feet above the city and, despite the constant overcast, were rewarded with panoramic views of a city much larger than we could ever cover in the two days we had allotted ourselves. What we did find at the top was a small town with narrow, cobbled streets and, old stone buildings and ornate front doors with picturesque window boxes and perfectly-placed cats in windows. All the residents we passed smiled and we felt completely safe.

Just prior to heading back down, we heard the call of our first cuckoo. At first, I thought I spied it but I'm pretty sure now it was a local crow. (A subsequent museum visit in Florence confirmed that cuckoo's are much smaller.)

Upon the insistence of an American lady we met at the train station, we ventured a lunch train trip to Switzerland, Lugano to be exact. It was a stunning ride through the lower Alps with increasingly adorable and picturesque towns dotting the landscape. As expected, children and adults alike who boarded were scrubbed and Germanic looking .

Once at our destination, we headed downhill through wonderfully meandering streets, steep and precipitous. Nevertheless, smart cars had no trouble navigating them and parking wherever they pleased. We were worried the hike back up the hill would be arduous but a well-placed tram station revealed itself and for a .80 euro ride, promised an easy journey back up the to the train station.

As one would expect in Switzerland, every place we looked was scrubbed clean, the cars seemed all to be BMW's, Mercedes and other upscale Euro cars. We strolled along the waterfront, taking in the sights of the lake and the mountains falling straight down to the water dotted with small towns at the water's edge . Lunch was at a waterside cafe. At fifty euros for Margi's grilled vegetables and my ravioli, I got how expensive Switzerland can be. The train ride back seemed shorter and a card full of junior high school kids on a field trip reminded us how things never change as people evolve from adolescence to adulthood with girls giggling behind boys' backs and boys tormenting the girls.

Back in Como, lunch at a lakeside cafe was a feast for eyes and ears. Margi had a seafood salad that consisted of the biggest shrimp we have ever eaten (except for the heads). I enjoyed a delightful salad as well and it ended up being more than we could eat. When we were presented with the bill, we asked for a bag top take our food with us. The waiter seemed perplexed. With numerous hand signals we knew we got our point across and laughed when the waiter exclaimed “Oh, dog!”.

Despite a constant drizzle, we couldn't leave Como without a boat ride across the lake to take in the famous villas and resorts that hug the water's edge. Again, many of them were shuttered awaiting their owners' arrival for the summer season.

We grudgingly left Como the next morning for a dreaded trip back to Milan to make the transition to a train bound for Rapallo and the Cinque Terre. As usual, the ride back seemed shorter than going.