I am not a lake person.
As far as I’m concerned, any large body of water that isn’t salty, wavy and vaguely smelling of sewage at low tide is wasting my time.
But after a day spent at Lago di Garda, I might need to change my tune.
I am an early-morning runner, which gives me the privilege of seeing places come to life when most of you are still asleep. One sees life at its least self-conscious, as people go through their daily routines, with no sense of being on display. The beep-beep-beep of the trash truck making its rounds; the swish of the broom as sidewalks are being swept; the aroma of cornettos being baked for the breakfast crowd — I feel I have been granted special permission to observe, while the air is still cool and fresh.
Yesterday, intimidated by the degree of difficulty of the local hikes, we decided instead to walk along the lake to Garda, the next town. The day was hot — nearly 90 degrees — and the lake was packed with beachgoers, mostly Germans.
We made it, though, nearly seven miles, and rewarded ourselves with a wonderful lakeside lunch. How does a simple grilled cheese “toast” and a tuna bruschetta taste so much better here than at home? (The secret, I’ve determined, is fat. At home, I wouldn’t dream of using full-fat cheese, or drenching the bread in olive oil, but man, is that good. And as far as I can see, the average Italian is healthier than the average American, so maybe they’re on to something.)
We hopped a ferry back to our home base, and rented bikes to head to the next town in the other direction. It was a bit hairy dodging the throngs of people out for the afternoon passeggiata, but most people will give wide berth to a wobbly senior citizen on a bike, screaming “Permesso!” — “Excuse me, let me by.”
Evening brought another wonderful meal of water-borne delicacies.
The crowds were out in full force — do Germans not understand there’s a pandemic going on? It felt like being down the Cape or the Jersey Shore at the height of the season.
So has Lago di Garda made me a convert? Am I now a lake person? Probably not. But maybe.
4 thoughts on “131. At the lake”
Love your photos and stories of your adventures in Italy, Gigi!!! What an amazing experience you are having — thank you for sharing with us 🙂
Is there a chance that you could become a lake person?
It could happen…
I love this because I am such a lake person. Waking up to the smells on the water is a bubbling memory trigger to youthful days of exciting adventure and discovery. All the anticipation of a fish on the line or a plunge off a steep ledge. Tadpoles and crawdads thriving in the muck. Contemplating all the life water brings down to the tiniest invertebrate. For me it’s a balm of companionship when solipsism gets dreary.