Emmett ventured out early to find coffee, and stopped at a nice cafe near our hotel. He was ecstatic that they offered him a to-go cup for his coffee. We haven't seen that in Italy so far! Emmett returned to the hotel and let the rest of us know the restaurant status in the neighborhood. We all decided to find the cafe and have some breakfast.
It had been quiet when Emmett went out earlier, but by the time we all got up and got out it was getting busy. Lots of people stopped by the little cafes to have a cappuccino or espresso on their way to work. How can you hope to be productive without your high-octane breakfast?
We got on the road, after Emmett inched the car out of the little lock-box. Our next destination was Verona, not very far away, so we thought we could stop at Lake Garda for a picnic lunch. The day was beautiful and sunny.
The little Sirmione peninsula was a string of hotels, resorts, and vacation condos, with a castle fortress at the point.
We asked at the little grocery store if there was a good place on the lake to have a picnic, and the clerk told us, partly in English, where we would find a nice spot. We found parking, and a bench, and set up our lunch.
We bought some pastries too, for dessert, but we were all too full to eat them. They'd make a nice snack later.
I had been packing the picnic tablecloth and bandana napkins, cutting boards, Swiss army knife, and plastic cups around for the last two weeks, just hoping we'd have a picnic somewhere. Rick said I live for occasions like this, and he's right!
The scenery was beautiful, and we enjoyed the company of a few swans along the lakefront.
We finished our lunch and walked down the path looking for a restroom. We came to a quiet restaurant, probably with nice restrooms, but we felt compelled to buy something before ducking into the W.C. So, another opportunity to taste our new favorite drink, the spritz. The waiter asked if we wanted it with Campari, and we said we did. But we didn't like the spritzes as much made with Campari. They were too bitter.
We headed down the road to Verona, to find our B&B, the Villa Beatrice. We knew it was outside of town, and Rick had mapped it out prior to our departure from Bergamo.
Here is our travel WARNING. When you get lost, DO NOT ask a patron at the local bar for directions to a place up in the hills. DO NOT. I can't stress enough that an intoxicated local is no better than a... well, than a tourist such as ourselves.
So, still lost, we had a minor fender-bender in the little village. It took a while to sort out, since the elderly gentleman we hit couldn't speak English at all. He used the phone at the local cemetery monument carver - OMG - please let there be no significance to this! His middle-aged son arrived to help figure it all out. I said, should we call the police? The son said, emphatically, NO! Maybe they don't like to involve the police in these little things, but holy mackerel, we're feeling a little worried about our liability here. Anyway, the son helped us fill out the paperwork we needed for the rental agency, and the paperwork his father would need for his insurance. Before long, another of the old man's children arrived with his or her spouse. The old guy looked so concerned I wondered if his kids had been telling him he shouldn't be driving anymore, at his age. We got on our way again, without any hard feelings on the part of the Italian family, thank goodness.
We back-tracked a little to find the turn that the INTOXICATED local had told us about and drove up into the hills. We were definitely very lost by now. We saw a woman in her driveway, and stopped to ask directions. She went into the house and brought out her 20-something daughter, who helped us call the B&B owner. He directed us to a meeting place on the main road. Within a few minutes Simone, our host, arrived, and we followed him up to the B&B. We followed him up tiny, little, winding, donkey-path-like roads, with hairpin turns. All of us thought, it doesn't seem like we'll be driving into Verona from here! Much to our relief, Simone told us that the roads we'd just been on were a local shortcut up to the house. The way into Verona was much more straightforward. Whew!
Our B&B was a lovely house with 4 bedrooms. We were the only guests for two nights, and the owner doesn't live in the house, so we essentially had the whole place to ourselves. We were made to feel right at home, and even allowed to use the kitchen to make our own dinners, if we liked.
We'd had a long and tiring day, and hoped there was a place near the B&B for dinner. Simone called his friend Fulvio at Il Porcellino, an agriturismo nearby, to see if they were serving dinner that night. Luckily, they were, and we were welcome to come over, if we liked.
The owners of Il Porcellino, which means little pig, had added a beautiful dining room, which our host said was totally booked for both Holy Saturday and Easter Sunday lunch. On this evening, there were only two tables of customers. At the other table was a young family from Switzerland, with two young children, who were staying at the B&B. They recommended it highly.
We had a great dinner, which included some of the pork grown and processed on the farm. We drove back to our B&B on dark country roads, following the little pink pig signs, in reverse, which helped us stay on course.
We got on the road, after Emmett inched the car out of the little lock-box. Our next destination was Verona, not very far away, so we thought we could stop at Lake Garda for a picnic lunch. The day was beautiful and sunny.
The little Sirmione peninsula was a string of hotels, resorts, and vacation condos, with a castle fortress at the point.
Buying supplies for a picnic along Lake Garda
We asked at the little grocery store if there was a good place on the lake to have a picnic, and the clerk told us, partly in English, where we would find a nice spot. We found parking, and a bench, and set up our lunch.
Our picnic spot along the lake
Bread, mozzarella, prosciutto, tomatoes, chips and pears. A little wine to wash it all down. Perfect.
We bought some pastries too, for dessert, but we were all too full to eat them. They'd make a nice snack later.
I had been packing the picnic tablecloth and bandana napkins, cutting boards, Swiss army knife, and plastic cups around for the last two weeks, just hoping we'd have a picnic somewhere. Rick said I live for occasions like this, and he's right!
The scenery was beautiful, and we enjoyed the company of a few swans along the lakefront.
Lake Garda
One of the swans, looking for a handout
On the Spritz Tasting Tour of northern Italy
We headed down the road to Verona, to find our B&B, the Villa Beatrice. We knew it was outside of town, and Rick had mapped it out prior to our departure from Bergamo.
Here is our travel WARNING. When you get lost, DO NOT ask a patron at the local bar for directions to a place up in the hills. DO NOT. I can't stress enough that an intoxicated local is no better than a... well, than a tourist such as ourselves.
So, still lost, we had a minor fender-bender in the little village. It took a while to sort out, since the elderly gentleman we hit couldn't speak English at all. He used the phone at the local cemetery monument carver - OMG - please let there be no significance to this! His middle-aged son arrived to help figure it all out. I said, should we call the police? The son said, emphatically, NO! Maybe they don't like to involve the police in these little things, but holy mackerel, we're feeling a little worried about our liability here. Anyway, the son helped us fill out the paperwork we needed for the rental agency, and the paperwork his father would need for his insurance. Before long, another of the old man's children arrived with his or her spouse. The old guy looked so concerned I wondered if his kids had been telling him he shouldn't be driving anymore, at his age. We got on our way again, without any hard feelings on the part of the Italian family, thank goodness.
We back-tracked a little to find the turn that the INTOXICATED local had told us about and drove up into the hills. We were definitely very lost by now. We saw a woman in her driveway, and stopped to ask directions. She went into the house and brought out her 20-something daughter, who helped us call the B&B owner. He directed us to a meeting place on the main road. Within a few minutes Simone, our host, arrived, and we followed him up to the B&B. We followed him up tiny, little, winding, donkey-path-like roads, with hairpin turns. All of us thought, it doesn't seem like we'll be driving into Verona from here! Much to our relief, Simone told us that the roads we'd just been on were a local shortcut up to the house. The way into Verona was much more straightforward. Whew!
Our B&B was a lovely house with 4 bedrooms. We were the only guests for two nights, and the owner doesn't live in the house, so we essentially had the whole place to ourselves. We were made to feel right at home, and even allowed to use the kitchen to make our own dinners, if we liked.
Villa Beatrice in Verona
The beautiful yard at the B&B Villa Beatrice
Our comfortable B&B, with classical music provided to play on the CD player
We'd had a long and tiring day, and hoped there was a place near the B&B for dinner. Simone called his friend Fulvio at Il Porcellino, an agriturismo nearby, to see if they were serving dinner that night. Luckily, they were, and we were welcome to come over, if we liked.
The outside of Il Porcellino, high in the hills overlooking Verona
At dinner at the neighboring agriturismo, Il Porcellino
We had a great dinner, which included some of the pork grown and processed on the farm. We drove back to our B&B on dark country roads, following the little pink pig signs, in reverse, which helped us stay on course.
