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Wretched Lago Maggiore was very picturesque with the snow capped Alps in the background. We sat in the harbor at Laverno having a leisurely breakfast. Local elderly Italian men were visiting along the harbor walk where we were eating, so we attracted plenty of stares. I kept hearing "Canada" amongst the continuous banter. I enjoyed listening to the melodic sound of Italian again, even if I had forgotten almost all the vocabulary. The locals tried desperately to be of assistance to us when we asked for directions but our nearly nonexistent Italian made their job very difficult. Some reverted to French in an attempt to make matters easier for us, but it only marginally helped. We understood twenty words in French as opposed to five in Italian. Hardly a foundation for meaningful conversations. After an hour on the busy roads we were ready for another break. Our lunch stop was at Lago Varese. The lake wasn't as scenic as Maggiore, without the mountains for a backdrop. But it was much quieter except for the flock of vicious swans pestering us as we ate our ham sandwiches. Then a dog came and they raced back to the water hissing and flapping their wings in a big display. Sherry didn't go swimming. Judging from the algae clinging to the swans, she would have come out scungier than she went in. I knew we were back in Italy. There was hordes of traffic; church bells gonged every few minutes; and barking dogs were ceaseless. I awoke to the sound of dogs barking and rifles firing. We must have set up near a kennel or a fox hunting establishment. It was only slightly quieter than Switzerland's military areas had been. The barking started all too early-my sleep had been the worse so far. I was beginning to hate that little tent. When three of us were inside, every fitful toss was felt by all. It was unusually warm (in comparison to our zero degree Celsius temperatures on San Bernadino pass) and I laid awake listening to the church clock gong the hours: one-two-three. I wondered if I was ever going to get to sleep. Then Sherry got restless and began to thrash. When the sun finally rose I was almost relieved. It meant I would soon be able to flee that wretched tent. |
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