Lake Como, near that beautiful portion of northern Italy (S.Hrg.108-803)

I recently discovered that this year's Islamic holiday schedule is pretty generous, especially when combined with American ones. In October, Columbus Day was followed by three days off for Eid al-Adha, creating a one-day workweek.

Unfortunately, TJ couldn't get the day off, so I ran off without him to avoid the mass sacrifice of animals for Eid feasts. (Actually, at the last minute, the embassy announced it would close for that one day as well, but it was too late to get plane tickets for TJ or a pet sitter for Sage.) I picked Italy as my destination for a couple of reasons. First, when we lived in Israel, TJ went there without me for a long weekend, so this was payback. And second, I like pasta.

Actually, I first started looking at Italy because Turkish Airlines had a good deal on flights there. By the time I booked my trip, the prices were higher and the schedules more inconvenient, but I had already researched and planned too much about the trip to give it up. As per my itinerary, after getting off my flight in Milan, I headed by train straight to Lake Como.

The train line ended at the city Como, where I could catch a bus to my Menaggio hostel. (Sadly, George had other obligations, so he couldn't give me a lift.) Within my first 10 minutes along the shore of the lake (left), I knew I was going to enjoy this vacation. I mean, who couldn't enjoy clusters of quaint and luxurious villas set at the foot of the Alps (right)?

It was dark by the time I made it to Menaggio, so I took a tranquil walk through the town, where all roads seem to lead to the bell tower of the Parrocchia di Menaggio (left). Along one of the narrow roads, I popped into Fusi & Sfusi wine bar, but I only stayed for one short drink because it seemed like I was interrupting an off-season locals happy hour. I opted for a place with more tourists for dinner. At Bar Constantin, I ordered a plate of gnocchi with cured meat and semuda cheese along with a draft beer (right). (Incidentally, of those taps behind my table, only one was beer, and the other two were wine. Ah, Italy.)

I woke up early the next morning with the intention of hiking into the hills above Menaggio. I was less-rested than I had hoped because a dorm-mate spent a lot of the night vomiting. Poor girl. But my motivation was rejuvenated when during breakfast I saw a group of guys doing a morning run (left). Hiking was enough of a workout for me, but if it wasn't, I could've done the exercise stops along the trail. I suppose it might've been particularly fitting if I had done some side bends next to the Chapelle de Artus, constructed in honor of the Virgin Mary for saving a priest from committing suicide after having an adulterous affair (right).

I stretched the bounds of good decision-making when I hiked down a narrow and slippery path to Cascata di Tobi (left). I even went pretty fast to get away from a guy I found suspicious. When I had to retrace my steps because the path was overgrown, I discovered that he was quite harmlessly collecting firewood; he even offered a friendly "Che pasa?" on my way back up. After I selected a new route, I slowed down to enjoy smaller waterfalls on the agritourism grounds of Barcola (right). I tried to eat lunch at the truly farm-to-table restaurant, but it was booked to capacity -- or I looked too grimy.

 

Near the restaurant, my path got cut off again, so I ended up having to descend on a paved bike path, which wasn't nearly as picturesque as the way up through the Parco della Val Sanagra, where I saw all manner of farmhouses and mills I wanted to live in (left). However, on my way down, I did manage to spy Torre Milano, which I earlier had opted not to hike up to out of a concern for approaching rain (right).

It was still overcast by the time I headed to Bellagio, the inspiration for the Vegas resort, which is probably even more elegant in the sunlight (top). I managed to wander through the stylish streets for a little while before my stomach required attention (bottom left). I ordered the set lunch at Cava Turacciolo, which included a plate of cured ham, pizzoccheri, and a glass of local red wine from Valtellina (bottom right). After five hours of walking, I even felt I was entitled to an after-dinner drink: a sparking rose from another nearby wine region, Franciacorta.

I had some time to kill before the ferry back to Menaggio, so I decided to people watch from a cafe along the lakefront. In an attempt to fit in, I sipped some coffee and tried a lemon tart at busy Bar Rossi (left). But even with my backpacker-chic outfit, I was clearly out of place, especially when I saw what seemed like groups of models lining up for the fanciest taxi I've ever seen (right).

Back in Menaggio, I headed to Il Tana, a bar right beside the ferry port, where I felt much more at home downing a Grimbergen Blanche from the tap. My last day in Lake Como, I explored Varenna before I caught a train to Verona. I savored one last look of the lake as I had some cappuccino and amaretto cake at Varenna Caffe (top). I strolled through the town square, shouldered by Parrochia di San Giorgio (bottom left), before tackling a hike up the hill overlooking the town (bottom right).

 

The haul, with my complete backpack, was worth the final destination: Castello di Vezio. Especially on a cloudy morning, the castle had a spooky ambiance, only enhanced by the chalk sculptures created by covering visitors with plaster (top left) and the cages of birds of prey brought out for falconry demonstrations during the afternoon (top right). Although I missed the bird show, I took in all the nature I could from my perch on the castle's main turret (bottom), then I headed to the train station for the next leg of my Italian adventure.