In which we have the best of the rest (Lago Maggiore part III).

The next phase of our vacation was the stormy, sleepy one, where we had big, flashy storms that woke me most every night and a couple Weathery days as well, which we spent lazing about inside, watching movies, playing games, reading, cooking, and napping. When the weather was fine, like it was that Saturday, we got some fresh raisin bread from the little store up the hill and brunched outside in the cool of the morning, then went swimming in a lake topped with a layer of night rain.

One evening when the weather had cleared, we drove down to Maccagno for a walk and Romantic Pizza. As advised, we'd called ahead to reserve a table at the ristorante, and were pleasantly surprised to find they'd given us the tiniest table with the best sunset view.

It was there that I -- a true lover of dogs in all their forms -- saw one of the first pooches that I would really and truly judge as, well, ugly. Someone's precious angel, no doubt, but is that styling really necessary?

Afterwards we walked around the village alleyways on the mountainside, the old, colorful walls set a-glow by yellow streetlights.

It poured most of the last day we were there, though Steven and I did make one little excursion into Pino that ended with very wet feet. 

The sky cleared again later that evening and we went for a final swim, the clouds doing fun things in front of the blue mountain silhouettes. We had the whole beach to ourselves, and felt very smug about it too.
 

j

One thing that surprised me was how little Italian I heard while we were there. Sure, it was Italy, bordered with the Italian-speaking region of Switzerland, but most people around us were German or German-speaking Swiss families who, like our wonderful hosts, had purchased homes there and came down for the weekends now and again. In my German guidebook it said one thing to avoid was speaking German to people, and to always try and speak Italian first. So, we learned a few phrases, and by the end could buy stamps and order gelato, say please and thank you, the necessaries, and what we didn't know we tried in English first and generally had very friendly responses that way. Many of the locals depended on their German neighbors and tourists for their income, but I'd imagine they could be a little frustrated with them too. As with all neighborly relations, I suppose.

Our last morning was spent packing and cleaning up before making our way back to the little Pino train station. Our plane didn't leave Milan until later that evening, but with the questionable reliability of the train system we decided to play it safe and gave ourselves plenty of time to get to the airport. It was a good thing we did, too, for our first train stopped in Luino, where they announced that there wasn't enough personnel to keep driving and that we'd have to take the next train south in an hour. This was not ideal, but hey, gave us time for some more super ideal gelato.

That cancellation had us miss our connecting train in Gallarate, which gave us time to walk around there as well. A pretty town with fun murals and patterns in the streets. Most everything was closed, as per the Italian tradition of taking a good chunk of summer off to go on holiday, and it felt eerily quiet.
 

j

Eventually we did make it back to the airport, and with plenty of time to catch our plane. For the most part we were glad for the train delays, as it gave us more time to see new places and less time spent waiting around in the less than cozy Malpensa Airport. A slow end to the loveliest of weeks. Mille grazie, grazie mille.

After a late arrival home, I had two very early mornings of new job orientation, and then headed back to the airport for Grand Summer Adventure #3: Wales. More on that later.

In which we go a-splashing in the Swiss Alps (Lago Maggiore part II).

The next grand adventure brought us across the border to the Valle Verzasca, described in tour books as an emerald green valley high in the mountains, dotted with centuries-old stone villages. We awoke to sunny skies, packed some snacks, hopped in the car, cranked the radio, and drove the few short minutes to the border, where the Swiss agent made sure we didn’t have any goods to sell and let us on our way. The road took us up and around the lake, eventually turning and winding up and into the valley through tunnels and turns that were tight but much more generous than those coming out of Pino. Our first stop was at the Contra Dam on the Lago di Vogorno made famous by James Bond in GoldenEye and many other films. There I saw someone bungee jump for the first time, and thought I was going to have a heart attack as the woman plunged down 220 meters, diving with an urmenschlike shriek. She made it back up though, as did the next person and assumedly the next person and the next and the next.

From there we continued on up the winding road, twixt green mountainsides and old, dark stone villages, then eventually parked the car and climbed down into a magical, overgrown grove to a mountain stream. The water was both clear and teal, and rushed and rippled over stripy, sparkling gneiss stones. Jana, hardcorest of them all, who had been there before and looked forward to the adrenaline rush that came with immersing oneself in that barely liquid water, dove right in. Steven and I took more convincing, and -- oh holy frozen mother -- was that cold. We all made it in though, dipped ourselves in the calm pools next to the current, and then swam across the stream to laze on the curved boulders on the other side. The sun chose our most exposed moments to take a hike, so it was a little chillier than we’d hoped, and when the raindrops started splatting we decided it was time to pack up and continue our journey up the road.

Luckily the rain got distracted elsewhere, and we were free to continue our adventure without any additional wetness. The sun and wooshing convertible wind dried our hair in funny shapes, but there weren’t many people to comment as we walked around sleepy villages, like here in Frasco.

(This one taken by Steven:)

Our last stop was in Sonogno, where we wandered out of the village to a tall, splooshy Froda Waterfall, where some neighboring goats were munching and snoozing on a cliff ledge. More wading in c-c-cold, crystal clear water.

We were tired by the end, so drove the hour back around the lake and over the border to Pino with the top down, blasting the objectively bad pop music on the Swiss or Italian radio station. That evening we coated ourselves in bug spray and took the makings for Aperol Spritzes to the highest spot in the village, in front of the church, to watch evening fall over the lake and the first stars come out. A little black cat joined us and decided to be my friend after carefully checking to make sure I didn't have fleas.

A splendid day followed by a splendid night and many splendid days come.