Terrafirma Travels

L went for a run inside the enormous campsite, as the security gates will not open until 0730, too late for our schedule. She tried to run on grass or concrete to avoid waking the sleeping hordes in vans and tents. Coughed endlessly as pollen blew in a fierce breeze.  By 0915 we were ready for the bus to the ferry port to take us to Isola Madre, one of the famous Borromean islands on Maggiore. Reception suggested that instead of the bus, we take the child-friendly road train that picks campers up to take them into town. We agreed. It was a rollicking ride, first of the day. Cost us twice as much as the bus! A number of jolly German couples got on board, laughing like drains, and soon we were dropped off at a street market somewhere near the port. No signposts to help, in Italy everyone assumes you know where to go. The tourist office told us where to find the ferry ticket office and we bought our round trip tickets. It was not where Reception had told us, with full confidence....

L forgot to mention yday the great porridge incident; she got up quickly because the kettle was boiling and tipped the table - which in fairness is very tippable. Two bowls of porridge half-emptied into the driver's seat, and N just managed to save his coffee from adding to the mix. Much cleaning up,  and today the seat looks fine, although the driver's trousers yday were damp. Took the 'pretty' route to Como i.e. no motorway, and it was pretty ... tortuous. The Italian road system is a jumbled mess.  Without Mrs Googlemaps we would still be out there. Another trillion roundabouts, and OMG the Italian driving is v close to being a contact sport. Don't get us started on the state of the roads. Also all the buildings in this part of Italy seem tired and grubby - the whole place looks run down. The people, of course, are all lovely.  Como is big and choked with traffic and the road system is a mystery. Still, we found the ideal parking spot facing the lake and just 5 m...

Lesley's run was very unlike the first one she did. The wind was wild, skies grey, and white waves flew across the lake surface. Once again, it was a challenge to get back into the secure campsite. Perhaps someone was late opening the gates. Anyway, she searched around the site until she found a bent-back section of fence, and crawled under it, dirtying her kit. So embarrassing, but no-one saw. We set off for Maggiore with a stop at Lake Iseo, a smaller lake surrounded by tall mountains.  It was lovely even in misty drizzle. We found a place to park by the water and a cafe for decaf coffee and cake. We retraced our steps around the lake on our way to Maggiore, to the village of Sarnico where we watched some yachts sailing and had our usual sandwiches in the van. How very British.  The journey to Maggiore took us around countless roundabouts and on to a very full and fast motorway which skirted Milan. The Italians drive like racing drivers, swooping across lanes with no signals...

Last night we discovered the source of a rhythmic high-pitched cry - a Scops owl. We could not see it because it is only the size of a starling and it was deep dusk. In other bird news, we heard another cuckoo this morning during our unintentionally leisurely up and breakfast. Had a SWIM in the lake at the foot of the campsite (yes, it slopes) which was very refreshing. Yes we were the only swimmers ... well, it was 0930. We found the ladder entry much better than the lethally slippery pebbles.  After some research we decided to take a drive up the west side towards the pointy bits. At the south end where we are the landscape is very flat. After a million roundabouts we were driving alongside the lake, first high up then at water level, and in company with a million Italians - it's a sunny Saturday. When we got to the pointy bits there were many tunnels, narrow and poorly lit. Does not compare well with the Swiss and Austrian ones. We spotted a cafe with stupendous views so dived i...

Slow getting up. L went for an early run along the beautiful, deserted lakeside but had trouble finding a way back in to the campsite owing to locked gates! We decided to take the tripper boat to Sirmione, a honeypot destination in this part of Lake Garda. The ferry doesn't run often during the day, so we took a lunchtime boat that would return about 4pm,  thinking that 3 hours of tourist hot-spot would be about enough. We walked to the ferry pontoon and had a coffee while waiting. The rather old fashioned boat was surprisingly full. It was pleasant sitting up top under a shade, watching the blue lake pass by, for 40 minutes, but it was very hazy and a bit soporific. Arriving at Sirmione was like being tumbled into an ants' nest. It was rammed full of tourists, ice cream shops, pizzerias and tat shops.  We visited two beautiful, tiny churches and a lovely quiet side street where the houses have ornate ceramic plaques for house names, all by the same artist.  And we ventu...

As I start this we are in a 5km stop-start on the Brenner Pass due to road works <sigh>. Also the cloud level is much lower today, we can't see the tops <boo>. Occasional sharp rain showers, first rain of trip. Stopped at border for hot choc (no decaf!) and pastry. The Brenner at 1370m is one of the lowest Alpine passes, yet it is impressive in its winding through the chasm between the mountains. Much roadworks on the Italian side (South Tyrol) too. We stopped at a servicio to swap drivers, then barrelled on south down the A22 in company with an endless stream of enormous trucks. We turned off at Affi and wound our way into the Parco Termale del Garda, a thermal lake resort. For a significant sum we spent the afternoon there, after a modest lunch served in a surly manner. The main lake is 31°, with huge jacuzzi sections at 35, 37 and 39° - the latter two advised at 10 minutes max. All very lovely and fairly empty. We sat on a verandah for a while drinking mineral water ...