Sunday, May 15, 2011

Heading for the Barn

France 2011


 


                                       
Well its been several days and many lakes ago since I have last written to you.  The trip to visit the northern lake district in Italy was just what the dr. ordered.  While a bit hazy, each lake seems to be more spectacular than the last.  The various lakes all lay about 2-3 hours apart, a fairly easy drive that puts you on a new lake about mid-day each travel day. 



The next lake on the circuit was Lake Magiorre where we stayed right on the town's race track so as to best enjoy the locals racing about on anything noisy and loud.  We checked into the local tourist board, signed up for a boat trip the next day so as to visit the 3 Islands in the middle of the lake.  Then proceeded to our hotel to enjoy the sounds of motorcycle and motor car racing for the next several hours.  Didn't have much of choice in the matter, it was either stay there or out of town................out of town would have definetly been more peaceful. 


The next morning on the lake going from Island to island was delightful.  Each offered something a little bit different than the other...........or at least that's what Susan claimed as she shopped her way around each of the small islands......................how many scarves does one person need?   As usual I was more than content to be parked in one of the local bars sampling some of the local brews.  Actually not, as Corona seemed to be the best priced of all the local biers.  Most of the Islands featured spectacular gardens and castles that could be visited for a price.  I promised Susan that I wouldn't complain about the prices over here, but its quite apparent that "they"are out to get me for all of my worth.  On one of the Islands we took pictures of pictures of what the tour would consist of, then sat outside of the gardesn and tried to imagine how beauctiful they must be.............I computed the savings to be about $45 but then had to crank in the cost of the various scarves Susan couldn't live without.   Lunch was on an Island known for its seafood.  Susan sampled a local specialty which consisted of white fish, deep fried,  some mystery fish also deep fried and some tiny little "fishy" smelling fish that closely resembled breaded and deep fried guppies.  I on the other hand opted for the Spaghetti Bolognese.................Bob Gaughran taught me about this go to plate many years ago and which is available in most restaurants around the world.  I will admit that this was not as adventurous but much more satisfied than Susan's bill of fare.  While the service was slow, causing us to almost miss the boat, the day proved to be most relaxing and a welcome relief from drivning and the omnipresent toll booths.


After another not so quiet night, this time the locals celebrating a soccer win over some third world country...far too much celebrating for such a minor victory.  The proprietor once again apolized for the noise and wished us fond adeiu as he sent us on our way to the next lake.  Being gluttons for punishment we allowed the agent that booked this noisy hotel to book us into our next stop in Varese which put us half-way to the next lake as we had quite a bit of sightseeing to do enroute.

Just a short drive down the road we set our sights on an ancient hillside village known for its frescos on the exterior walls of the town's buildings.  Seemed like a wonderful idea until our assault on the mountainside village....................it was race day, and every bicyclist from miles around was also hell bent on seeing those very same frescos.......not really but they managed to plug the winding roads making the journey up to the village most memorable.  Bicyclists the world over have this similar disposition with regards to who owns the roads.  I avoided with great care both the bikers going up as well as those coming down and boy did they come down.

The walk around the village was a leisurely walk thru an outdoor art museum as the walls were adorned with paintings from the present to long ago.  Stopped for a bier and sat on the porch that overlooked the entire valley below.  A gorgeous view, but you had to ask yourself who would want to live in this village frequented by tourist and bicyclists and where the nearest market is a day's journey away by foot.

Our pre-arranged booking took us to the village of Varese........................easier said than done........a few missed turns, thanks Kate, and we ended up in the manufacturing district of this quaint town.  We made our way back with little help from Kate the GPS lady to within 100 yards of the B&B and still could not find the place.  Susan finally had to get out on foot and did manage to locate Adriana's B&B hidden behind a lock gate.   Gorgeous old home.  Adriana put us in the basement apartment and then proceeded to sun herself, clad in her best bakini right outside our door.   From her recommendation that night we ended up in a wonderful restaurant that was hosted by an Al Pacino look alike.  On our way out, I shook his hand and told him how much he resembled my "very good and dear friend"" Al Pacino.  Not quite sure how to take this, he smiled and bid us bona serra.

The next morning found us on our way to the fabled Lake Maggiore and the world renowned Lake Como and the site of Bellaggio.  George Cluny was not returning my phone calls so we were forced to stay on the Lake at Hotel du Luc in Menaggio.  Aside from being an awkward lake to get around......tunnels ......tunnels and more tunnels we inadvertently committed another toll road feaux paux.  On our drive that morning we had the misfortune to set foot in Switzerland for a mere few miles only to be assessed and forced to purchase a "good for a year" Swiss Road Pass for the bargain rate of $50 euros.  And then to add insult to injury I was given change in Swiss Francs which will be useless for the rest of our trip.......................live and learn.

After the car ferry ride from Menaggio across the lake to  Varenna on the other side of the lake on our way to Bergamo and the old city.  While the old city loomed large above the city we played hell winding our way up the mountain to stroll about the city. Had a helluva time getting oriented to the city but did our best.  On our way out we stopped at the tourist information office and made a reservation for that nite in another rather marginal hotel in Lovere on Lake Iseo. Much the same as our other booking we were located in prime viewing and amplified listening right above the main road around the lake.  At first we were not concerned as this was a small town and figured to quiet down after the sun went down....................not...........While it was not the sound of tightly wound motor cycles racing about it was the deafening vibration of beer trucks on the route to their major markets from the top of the lake....................I guess the water is good for brewing up there.  Did manage a lovely balcony dinner with a view of the lake........with enough cheap red wine its difficult to hear the outside world and I slept like a baby.

Our next day's adventure was to the area in and around Lake Garda.  We are trying to remember who recommended the lake (thought it was Ron Brandalise?) but apparently not.  Regardless it was  a wonderful call and our part as the lake was every bit as enjoyable as it was tauted to be.  Susan had made our reservation on line in a little hotel right on the Lake named Torri dei Benaco.  We spent 2

leisurely nites there in a town void of automobiles (no nightime racing).  A walk to the castle was it for the day for me but Susan still did manage a little beach combing. A balcony area at the front of the hotel overlooking the lake provided an ideal lounging and cocktail area.  I would most assuredly put this town and hotel on my itinerary if I were to visit the area again. 

We have finally managed to settle into the later routine and have accustomed ourselves to the later dinner hours with leisurely cocktails in the piazza before finding our 9pm dinner spot.  Always a good idea to go to bed on a stomach rich with pasta and clams.

We next made our way further south to Varona after another internet reservation made by Susan.  This again was for two nites as we set our sightys on our day trip to Venice.  I had been there in '63 and had remembered very little other than our Gondola ride........five guys in a Godola,  I ask you how romantic could that have been?  We settled into our room in Varona after a bit of difficulty locating the place  (so what else is new?)  The place was a B&B  set in a refurbished office building with more locks and keys than the average jail.  Dinner in the main square prepared us for our one day train trip to Venice.

Initially, all went fairly well as we located the bus that took us to the train station........then purchased the ticket with no train number or track number.  Once these missing ingredients were resolved we boarded the train to what set out to be our very own private rail car.  Moments before our departure we were joined by no fewer than ten families, each with a buschel of kids................it was a rather tense 2 hours as we made our way south to Venice. 

During the trip I observed that there is never a silent moment among the Italians (sorry Judy) and that one comandeers the conversation by speaking the loudest...............additional points are also awarded to the one using the most hand jesturres and paying no attention to anyone who might have a differing point of view.  The children learn these techniques at an early age, so that they are right in the mix jesturing, and speaking in their Italian "sing song" way of speech.  Half way thru the journey as things were beginning to settle down, out came the candy and the cookies to jack up these little darlings with renewed energies for the remainder of the trip.  We all survived  as we "de-trained" to the marvels that awaited us in Venice.

It wasn't long after being deposited on the Grand Canal by the train, that the frenzy that is Venice, with its redundance of merchandise and thousands of tourists that even Susan began to tire of the endless shopping on our quest for San Marcos Square............................and we thought it was crowded on the tiny streets that lead to the square. After several hours of marching,  a couple of beers we finally reached the star of the Venetian experience only to be greeted by the thousands who had already beat us there by boat, water taxi or Gondola.  San Marcos square was not the religious experience that I had come for.  I almost wished that the square had been flooded, forcing us to make our way across the square on the elevated wooden planks so often pictured.  Inside the Cathedral we found the "praying section"which offered seating and did some praying till my feet and legs felt better and then it was back to the train station to make arrangements for our trip home.  With tickets in hand and an hour to kill before our 1st Class trip home, we located a retaurant on the canal where for the first time I ordered a "large"beer while Susan ate here ice cream.  I think the waiter was offended with Susan's Ice ream in his restaurant so as I had requested he brought be a large beer.................one liter's worth  and $25.50 later we left the city on the water.......glad I got that one re-checked off my bucket list.

Found our train back to Verano and validated our ticket at the machine which we had failed to do on our trip down................sternly reprimanded for this oversight , we chose to do it the right way this time.  Left the train station by bus only to findy that the city central was blocked down for a marathon.  After another scenic tour of the city we got off the bus at a familiar area and made our way to piazza which also acted as the finish line for the race.  Best Vodka Tonics to date and a split pizza beforing retiring to our room.

That brings you current to date.  Sunday the 15th and headed back to France via the souther coast.  Rain, rain and a lot more rain accompanied our trip to the south and to Milan.  The weather was dismal in Milan and we pushed on to the coast arriving in Genoa a few hours ago.  We'll probably take another 3 days to get back to Cindy and Hank's and back to work.  I have a feeling my paint brush and spackling gun are right where I left them as Hank has been busy with a new upstairs bathroom.

As the Italian cuisine has taken its toll on my waistline and well as my tastebuds we are headed out for Kebobs tonite as I just can't face another pasta anything tonight and maybe never again.  I really don't know how they do it.  With the occasional McDonalds, no Chinese, certainly no Mexican, its one pasta after another.................day in and day out.

Time to go for my much awaited lamb kebob.......................mmmmmmmmmmmmmm.......gb






Friday, May 6, 2011

Bonjour and Bonjourno

France 2011



 





When I last wrote to you all, but none of you received due to a computer that went down moments before completion..............I was saying Bon jour............now I've had to switch to bon journo as we have arrived in Italy. 

But let me recap.  After a harrowing escape from the work camp named Petit Clos last Tuesday we began our trek across France.  We had put in several good days labor at Hank and Cindy's but desperately needed a rest after helping complete the kitchen and beginning work on the family/dining room.  The work for the most part has been enjoyable once we got used to the materials we were using.  I caulked and spackled up a storm and Susan followed close behind with paint brush in hand.  However that was after completing work on the kitchen.  Susan did a great job assembling the cabinetry provided to us by master craftsman, I. Kea..................you may have heard of him.  The next day found us tiling the backsplash for the kitchen, you know Susan and tile.  It all looked wonderful and things are progressing along but with still a long ways to go.

The Petterson's did give us a day off to visit some other converted farm houses to see how things are done.  One family is providing the sweat equity while the other lady is fortunate enough to be able to just write big checks.  Her tastes are exquisite and it just goes to prove what deep pockets can accomplish. 

The week also saw the arrival of new "farm friends".  Two weeks ago we greeted the arrival of a gorgeous filly as well as three laying chickens.  Its a real farm in addition to the new arrivals there are also three other horses and a donkey.......two dogs and a cat.  That family are real gluttons for punihsment. 

Caleigh was off the first 10 days after our arrival so it was fun catching up with her.  Last Monday she returned to school and the Petterson's now find themselves playing host to an exchange student from Belgium.  Tess, who speaks far more English than I speak (Dutch...Belch.............what the hell do they speak?)  Anyway she's a lovely girl and Caleigh and her seem to be getting along well.

You can always be assured that when the Brown's visit a foreign country the rate of exchange almost certainly goes in the toilet.  As of a few days ago the Euro reached $1.54  an all time high for the Euro.  If that weren't bad enough, the price of everything thing is astronomical.  I find it difficult to believe that the average Joe can survive in this economy.  With fuel at 1.54 euros/liter it gets real expensive just to drive around the corner.  Our first fill up on our route from Paris to Petit Clos was well over $120.00 and that doesn't even begin to take into account the cost of the toll roads which you really you do need to drive in order to make any sort of time.  As some of us found in Vietnam, you have to hand it to the French for their road building skills.  The toll roads are magnificent once you learn that all off ramps don't necessarily have a corresponding on ramp.  You only make that mistake once.

Our work days have usually started between 8am and 9pm....................I'm usually the last one to clock in, but I consider myself more management than the rest and therefore deserve a later starting time.  Lots of fresh bread and preserves greet us each morning a  light lunch then cocktails and dinner at "Sunset Point".   The area until recently was a concrete trash deposit area but Hank and a neighbor took the entire mass out and burned it several days ago in a wonderful bonfire.................singed a few trees in the process but did manage to get rid of months of cuttings and trimmings.  The area is now our designated our cocktail spot and soon to become the sight of their swimming pool.  Unlike many of the B&B's weve stayed in a Pool seems to be a must for any reputable B&B .....a horrible expense but one they feel they nee to assume.

Last Monday we all went to Eymet for our bon voyage dinner and to welcome Tess to France.  To say this modest meal was expensive would have been an understatement, but the dinner was enjoyed by all.  Our meals prior to this were a result of everyone's effort.  We brought tortillas  so it was Mexican nite one night...........hamburgers another..........chicken....and Hank has surprised us with his pasta dishes on several occasions.  We broke tradition at our midday Easter celebration when in good spirits we ate the Easter Bunny along with some foie gras.  One of Cindy's first language instructors held court in the new kitchen and directed the girls efforts as the dinner fell together.  All enjoyed the meal with the possible exception of the easter bunny who didn't fare to well in the end.

We pulled up stakes and hit the road last Tuesday morning.  With a bit of an idea as to where we were headed we drove east to northern Italy and the lake district.  Susan has never been to Italy and I was last there in '63.  We made our way out of the countryside with the help of "kate" that sweet recalculating voice inside our Garmin.  Wtih the help of the Garmin and numerous maps we do all right navigating about.  This is not to say that we are ready to take on the amzaing race just yet.........but Susan does quite well and if I keep my "lefts"and "rights" separated and do listen to her we often manage to end up at our destination. 

While Cindy and Hank did give us a few days off to visit the countryside.....markets in some of the local towns......canoeing down the Dordogne and luchening in the quaint town of Dome.............its quite another thing to be out on your own navigating the roads with all those funny French names..........conversing with the locals at the gas/rest stops and doing our best to survive the French Toll Road system.  I must have worn out 2 sets of pants reaching in my pocket for tolls on the first day.  Tolls the first day were well over 32 euros....almost $50 which adds quite a hunk to your cost per mile.....km.  Its not just a matter of paying its trying to decide which line to que up in.......do I take a ticket......or do they want money....do they accept coins and bills.......credit cards?........I got so that by the end of the first day I dreaded the roadside signs depicting the stereotypical French gendarme with his hand out either giving you a ticket or taking your money. 

My very first toll booth experience was perhaps my worse as I forgot I was driving a stick shift and as I approached the toll booth with out depressing the clutch and then jerking and sputtering to a stop.... as my concern was not with driving but rather what it was I was about to do.............pay...........take a ticket........talk to a machine or a real person.  Needless to say I was a bit flustered on my first attempt.  But  I did get much better as the day progressed.

For those of you that can read a map, we spent our first nite on the open road in town called Givers preparing for our assault on Lake Orta (ala Bob Gaughran's recommendation).  Of course if you remember the last time I listened to him, Susan and I ended up at the end of the world in New Zealnd being served dinner by the "soup nazi".  So I was a bit skeptical as we headed out the next morning to Lake Orta via Torino, site of the winter Olympics many years ago.

Our day began early and with quite a bang as the terrain assumed the statue of the alps with its still snow capped peaks and rugged terrain.  As I drove on in my rainbow sandals and shorts I didn't feel totally prepared for what was ahead.  Clothing soon became the least of my worries as the Mountain/Tunnel Tolls quickly began to eat into my travel budget.  On toll alone was 36 euros.....over $50.  I will admit that it was the longest tunnel I had ever driven in, expecting a rest stop or a McDonalds at the next bend...............We ended the day over $100 out of pocket for tolls and the thought of returning to Cindy and Hank's and painting for my room and board became most appealing.

The drive however was as spectacular as you could imagine.  I came thru this Mountain pass many years ago without benefit of tunnels and toll roads and as I remember it was quite a journey. We saw the signs for Chmonix  and Mount Blanc.....then the turnoff for Grenoble, all names that bring back Winter Olympic games of past.   Torino was a bitter dissapointment,  as I envisioned going up the gondola as I had done in '63 only to realize that I couldn't have made my across the industrial zones to the ski hill even with the more delux GPS
system........so we drove on thru to our final destination of Lake Orta.

It should have been any easy drive just take a left off the the A4 and head directly into Lake Orta..............however one missed offramp on my part sent us on journey that was both costly and time consuming.  First I had to get off........double back ........pay the 6.50 euro toll again ...then get back on pay another 1.50 euro toll  and still we were on the wrong road.  I don't know who was more frustrated.......me.........Susan..........or "recalculating" Kate!

Arriving at Lake Orta made it all worthwhile.  We stumbled our way into the town square via a road that was so narrow we had to fold our side mirrors in just to make it thru the  narrow streets.  We arrived in the town square.......to find our Hotel for two nights the Leon d' Oro...right in the middle of the action...............what action there was...........aboslutely none!

A few drinks in the plaza at an outdoor cafe within a stone's throw of the lake.  What a beautiful setting................thanks Bob, i forgive you for New Zealand.   A stroll around town in search of a dinner spot lead us to Elana's for a marginal meal where we were thoroughly ignored.............those damn Italians.  acutally I love the italians, as they can't figure our where we are from with the assortment of languages and mispronunciations.  Bonjour....bonjourno,.
buenos dias (they love that one) qui qui.......bonoserra......nighty night.

We have been confused for French, Germans........never Italians and never English but also never "ugly Americans"      Say how about that Obama.  We haven't seen TV for weeks now but did manage to see his press conference re: Osama........good job Mr. Pres......Mr.Bush couldn't do that in 6 1/2 years...................and let's hear for all of those "Birthers".......Baukman and Donald don't have much to run on now do they?   Did see the Press Club roast on C-span.  If you didn't see it its worth a view.

Had some great down time in lake Orta.  Trip out to the Island Nunnery after hours on the deck at our hotel.  The prices still frighten me ........but not as much.

Today the 6th we made our way out of Orta over the mountains dropping into Stessa on scenic lake Maggiore................no navigational misteps, and no toll roads.  A open air bus tour of the city and lunch on the lake set us up for our drive around the lake to Laveno.....
We pick our spots based on the time of day and how we feel.

After a brief spot at the Tourist Information Center in Laveno we decided on two nights in what turns out to be a noisy hotel across the street from the train station.  I'm sitting in the room getting ready for dinner shortly and thinking about the voyage around the lake that we also booked at the Tourist Office......................

Cia, or whatever for now,  Just glad the computer behaved......................ps sitting here drinking a bottle of literally "fizzie"red that Susan bought in Orta for 3 Euros a bottle.....guess John Arbuckle is alive and well in Italy

gb and sb