Como

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 mins walk from the funicular. Unlike the broad use of this term in the Alps to mean cable car, this one did run on rails straight up the hill/cliff side to Brunate, the village at the top.

It's popular and slow, so much waiting but absolutely worth it. We immediately went for our usual cappuccino decaf plus water. Walked 50m to the panoramic viewpoint which lived up to its name, and ate our sandwiches prepared by L earlier, like good Brits.

Nothing else up there so we clambered round many steps to get to the downside and after another wait N leaned more dramatically on his stick to ensure seats for the 15 mins in the carriage. 

Dived into first cafe for another coffee and were rewarded with a table at the front looking across the lake.

Saw a seaplane do a touch-and-go and later land on the lake. Back to the van for lunch top-up and gazing at the lake through our open sliding door, feeling smug as the grockles walked by. Japanese and Russians abound.

Tried to leave to drive up the east side as far as Torno to get a different view, and Mrs G (aka Googlemaps) literally had us driving in a small circle. The second time we approached some road workers they gave us a look, N gave an exaggerated shrug, and we stopped and asked for help. L understood enough of their Italian to override Mrs G and get us out of there. The road to Torno clings to the mountainside and weaves through villages, narrow and rough - much fun. Much less touristy. The target car park at Torno was small and full, so enjoyed the different view and then reversed out. 

The route 'home' took us back through the seething masses of central Como and then motorways with our Telepass happily buzzing away and barriers flipping up as we approached at 30 km/h - magic. On some roads we were clocked by bridges as we passed underneath at 100+km/h. Technology! N remembered the need to upbraid Telepass about our device not working in France. Quite against the odds, and L's expectations, N found the right office (heavily disguised as a shed) and despite the language barrier it seemed a solution was in hand. But when she looked me up on their system she said she could not exchange it for a Europe device, and the language barrier meant N could not figure out why. Sad face.

Back at the site after a rest from all that travelling, 3+ hrs of driving in Italian traffic, we succumbed again to the siren call of the site restaurant. We ate in tonight, delicious swordfish and meatballs with roast veg and potatoes followed by tiramisu in a glass bell jar - the real McCoy. Then much frustrating searching to find how bus connects to ferry for tomorrow's trip.