Tuesday, September 25, 2018

Italy Day 3 (pt. 1) – Leaving Como

We have a long drive planned.  Mandy wakes to her 6:30 alarm, bleary, walks in to the bath.  I roll over one eye open.  “Lets go in the lake”.  Her response is simply “let me brush my teeth first."  I thought of it as I was drifting off last night and was really expecting more resistance.  We put on our suits and cheap Amazonian water shoes and five minutes later we’re at the water’s edge.  The water is smooth, soft and cool as I take her hand and we step in.  Not freezing, another step.  Only three steps from shore and we’re above Mandy’s knees. She pauses, I plunge.  Brrrrrrrr, but only a second.  A minute later she’s all the way too.  Very few words, but we both know.  There’s no way we could be here and not go in here.  Baptized, not into some religion, but into the region, this place.

Showers, packed, loaded then down for breakfast.  Goodbyes to our host and hostess and we’re on the crazy little road towards the town of Como and beyond.  It’s Sunday morning and, just like in the States, time for bikers to do long training rides and the other kind of bikers to meet up for motorcycle touring.  We run into plenty of packs of both winding our way along the lake road for the final time.

Two plus hours to our first stop in Parma, birthplace of parma.  The town is humming with early tourists, local families leaving church and the ever present old men drinking dark espresso from tiny cups while pretending to read the paper.  Mandy has been wanting to have a proper coffee standing at the bar, and we find the perfect place to oblige her just off the main square.  We explore a little more and enjoy a proper panini artfully displayed in a café window.

Back on the road towards Tuscany.  The Italian highways are amazing, and we pass through at least 25 tunnels in succession, some many miles long.  We set the GPS for Castelo Monterinaldi in the Chianti region.  This well-established, well-secluded winery sits on the top of a mountain of the same name and starts their wine tasting with a sample of their olive oil, strong, peppery and with a spice that immediately hits the back of your throat.  The wine complex and rich, nothing like that wicker encased grape juice we had back in the day.  We spend a few minutes admiring the grounds before we climb back into our now very dusty rental for the last leg of the day’s journey.









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