Shreds of a Former Life - A Week at Lake Garda
We all parted ways with Britt and Kristeena headed to Rome then back to the US, the Akays to Florence then on to Turkey, and Jean and Lenny to Bologna. The Parets squeezed back into our rental car much to the kids’ dismay (turns out being crammed in a small car with luggage under, on and around you is a big trigger). More than once I debated keeping my kit and getting rid of the kids.
Luckily, we only squeezed as far as Florence where Russ dropped us off at the train station. The three of us had a lovely few hours on the train while Russ had a rough afternoon on his drive to meet us in Milan. He got a flat tire. Let’s be clear: he was better off alone than with me back-seat tire changing. However, he had to unload every single bag onto a very narrow shoulder to find the spare tire and parts. He was able to change the tire without help (hero status) and get all the bags back in the car. However, he couldn’t see out of the rearview mirror due to the luggage…so in getting back on the road he backed into the guard rail causing some minor damage. Russ is not one to sweat the small stuff and we met up in Milan a few hours later, exchanged the little car for a much larger (still small) SUV (money better spent here than on therapy) and headed out for the final 1.5 hour drive to Lake Garda.
Side note: I grew up in a home where mistakes didn’t happen, and if they did, you definitely didn’t admit fault. One would also never think of scratching up a rental car or have the nerve to get a flat tire in another country. We couldn’t fathom experiencing such human-ness. The rental car penalty wouldn’t even matter as the rest of the family would have killed you with criticism before you could report it. So for Russ to deal with two of these things in one day and still be in a good mood, well, that is the culmination of all the reasons I married him.
Our Airbnb in Lazise on the shores of Lake Garda made all the hassle worth it. A restored farmhouse and chapel from the 15th century, it was the most unique home we’ve stayed in. The stone farmhouse had been in our host Giovanna’s family for hundreds of years. They still have a formal family Mass once a year in the chapel, and she and her husband were married there. The house sits on a high point off a gravel road with a fabulous view of the lake, the bell tower visible above the treetops as you arrive. The property is full of yellow fig trees and we ate as many as we possibly could. It was a peaceful oasis amidst the craziness of Italy’s busiest tourist week and one of their biggest holidays, Ferragosto.
Lake Garda is stunning. Blue water that meets the edges of castles and town walls and the alps. Each town is a Disney village come alive IRL (and just as crowded). The “beaches” are rocky and not very big, and lake water is a little…stagnant compared to beaches and bays we’re used to, though very clear. We spent hours walking a boardwalk that connects towns for miles along the lakeshore, and we visited Sirmione and Limone, two picturesque towns on the water.
We happened upon Limone sul Garda because we decided to day trip up the coast on Ferragosto (we did not know it was Ferragosto). We sat in traffic for hours, kids fighting and crying the whole way (the nerve to do this when we splurged on the bigger car!) and when we arrived at our destination town we couldn’t find a place to park. Desperate, we bought a car ticket and drove onto the ferry. On the other side we disembarked at Limone, equally beautiful and quaint and lacking parking. Here we got smart and ate at a restaurant with ample parking and left the car there while we explored this tiny town built into the rocky mountainsides. Even with a million of our closest Italian friends elbowing for room in a town with a year round population of less than 1,200, we managed to enjoy the day and sip limoncello. It was a magical place even with the crowds.
Another fairy tale beautiful town is that of Sirmione, however, due to the immense crowds, we were barely able to have lunch and take some photos before admitting defeat. Our takeaway from Lake Garda is that it is an affordable water (beach?) destination for Italians, Germans and Danes. We did not see any other Americans and one busboy was excited to learn we were from the US. We were surprised to see shores full of campgrounds and hotels squeezed up against the walls of charming old-world towns. Our airbnb made it all worthwhile and we’d go back someday - during shoulder season!
Shreds Of a Former Life
We hadn’t seen rain since we left the US over a month prior. It was Europe’s hottest summer with fires dotting the landscape under a raging sun. We took full advantage of all that expensive European electricity to run the A/C just so we could sleep. But one night at Lake Garda, the wind picked up, the weather cooled and it poured. It happened to be the night we did laundry and hung it on the line to dry. Unfortunately, the weight of the wet laundry dragged the line to the ground and left our clothes swimming in over ripe fig soup. But it gets worse. In our old-meets-new Airbnb, the lawn is groomed nightly by a robot mower. There was no need to re-wash the clothes. Gigantic roomba-mower teeth gashed every garment. A chewed waistband here, chomped shorts there. It was a crime scene without bodies, as though in all the thunder and lightning the Garda Lake loch ness had a cottony snack by our pool.
So there we were, ten weeks into our new life, horrified at the symbolism and humored by the future book titles: Tattered Travels? Pieces Everywhere?
The good thing about being on the move is the promise of perfect Airbnb photos of the next place. Two days later we drove out of Italy heavier in the stomach and accidentally lighter in the luggage. What better country than France to search for new beginnings and new clothes?
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*Section title and possible future book titles credit to Lauren Bolin, who is disappointed I didn’t find the humor in this soon enough to take photos….
