Wait (Varenna - Bellagio)

Today, dear reader, was Jayne's planned visit to Bellagio. It is only one stop away, on the correct ferry, but yesterday, it was the port where most people disembarked. The original plan was for me to walk down to the ferry terminal and purchase our tix as soon as I awoke. Encouraged by the lack of humanity around the pier yesterday, I opted not to do that.

Poor choice, dear reader. There was a price to be paid. The queue for the ticket office, have I mentioned no ticket machine, was back to the round-a-bout. Clearly this is the link to today's title Wait by the best group ever, The Beatles, from Rubber Soul released in 1965.

We arrived, 20 minutes before our ferry, to join a surprisingly long line. Knowing there would be many people in front of us who wanted to ask (stupid) questions, getting our tickets before the ferry arrived was always going to be touch and go, or line ball if you are from the continent of Trump. Have you renamed it right?

Anyway, time ticked away. The ferry to Menaggio occupied the car wharf. We moved forward, slowly. The Menaggio ferry refused to give way and was now late. Cool. More opportunity to get our ferry. We were now beside the kiosk so I was able to photograph the 'Buy your ticket online' poster. For future reference, you can't. Don't try. Cruel. Jump into the wound. The Menaggio ferry departed and we could see our ferry waiting to dock.

I am unable to caption my real thoughts.

At least they had to unload cars. We inched closer. The ticket window was in sight. The ferry horn blasted across the lake but it was still there. Goal achieved, we reached the window as the second blast from the ferry signaled it was leaving. Oh well, we would have to wait for the next one.

After we had secured round trip tickets, we moved from ticket office to queue, but one of the attendants pointed back away from the car ferry and said the magic word. No, not that one, seriously, dear reader. Bellagio. A passenger ferry, no cars, was arriving at the other end of the pier. This was a happy circumstance and prompted me to reassess the timetable and my interpretation. Now that is a skill that should be taught at school. What are teachers doing these days? Surely there is space in the curriculum to teach students how to read the Lake Como ferry timetable. It's an essential life skill.

Seated on the ferry, it was a 15 minute trip to Bellagio. Similar to yesterday, many people alighted and spilled onto the promenade where many beautiful people were already posing over the breakfast they would photograph but not eat.

Salito Serbelloni.

Down the main street we walked, around the corner and into a shopping strip that was the commencement of the fabled stone pathway. Or something like that. Cobblestoned lanes, roads, paths are de rigueur. Buzz buzz, as Hamlet would say. However, it did excite the masses, and there was a lot of flicking of hair and adjusting of make up and other boorish behavior.

It was time to tourist, so up Salito Serbelloni we went. I tried to get into as many 'influencer' photos as possible and loitered to look at stones just to delay them, as we have been delayed by their self-absorbed behavior. If only I'd brought my lip gloss, I could have taken more time. I mean, I can't toss my hair can I, dear reader?

Unimpressed. You?

At the top of the street, we turned toward the Romanesque St Giorgio Church. It is on the list of 'must do' but is unremarkable in every respect. Except that it is really old. Have I banged on about how Australians get excited because a church is 400 years old? No? Not this trip? I might remind you, dear reader, we have the oldest continuous culture in world at home and we disregard it constantly. But hey, what's 60,000 years of culture and successful land management against a church that bled the locals dry to ensure the ceiling was made of gold? Or a street that was cobbled with river pebbles 2,000 years ago?

This is not a church. It is a home. Cool, huh?

Moving on. We wandered the marvelous cobbled pavement, past stores selling the same thing, to a piazza where we could have breakfast. Coffee and croissant. A church dominated the square, St Giacomo's. In all honesty, I don't remember it now but will dutifully post a picture or two below. Jayne tells me he was beheaded. Makes sense given the stained glass window.

A side altar fresco.

The 'rose' window.

The altar and fresco.

The main reason for our visit to Bellagio was to make to Punta Spartivento, the promontory from which you can view three ways up and down Lake Como. I know you'll be shocked to read this, but there were people with selfie sticks and selfie tri-pods, occupying all the best vantage points. Giving zero fu... I mean being totally unconcerned about anyone else. 

Looking back at Varenna.

We managed to move from one end of the prom to the other, before the two (insert nationality of choice) women had moved from their starting point. FML.

Our next stop was Villa Melzi Giardini. As we have experienced, there was a wide lakeside promenade part of the way to our destination that just disappeared, think cycleways in Sydney, and we were forced on to the road, fighting for space with cars. Nevertheless, we survived and made the gardens.

It started out wide enough.

The Villa Melzi gardens are absolutely beautiful and this is the beginning of autumn, where most of the flowering is over. They have banks of azaleas, larger than I have ever seen, that would be truly spectacular in May. As well as rhododendron trees, the Japanese Maples were adding color as they changed from green to hues of red and the impatiens were still providing a pop of color wherever they were planted. 

The money shot?

Or is this one?

The gardens and lawn areas were spread along the shore of the lake and up the side of the hill. There was, as expected, the ubiquitous grand villa, a chapel and green houses. All very impressive and well worth the cost of admission to assist with the upkeep of such a beautiful estate.

The Villa Melzi.

We then ventured back to town to check out the wine shops we had walked past earlier. No deal. They were, as they say, tourist traps. Very expensive. 

Is there a message in this? A butterfly on a drain.

Alora, we walked back to the pier to await our ferry and return to Varenna. Happily, we did not have to queue first for tickets, as we clutched the prized round trip return tickets in our hands. Once back on familiar turf, we went to our favorite store to purchase some wine and walked home to construct a light dinner of small toasted bread, bruschetta style tomatoes, cheese and cold meats. What a life.

The crowd at the ferry terminal as we watched safely from our balcony.

Alla prossima