It’s important to understand that travel and its related adventures rarely come without stress. Sometimes a lot of stress. The real fun comes later, when enough time has passed that everyone can laugh about the chaos and fondly remember our unofficial travel motto: “Everything is fine!”—usually declared while things were very clearly not fine.
Pictures rarely capture the pools of sweat caused by humidity and stress as your train breezes past your intended stop and taxis are apparently nowhere to be found. They don’t capture the realization that eventually you can tire of pizza and pasta, or the false belief that you love seafood only to discover that your supposedly sophisticated palate has limits. Nor do they capture the absolute outrage of a nearly nine-year-old boy discovering that a restaurant doesn’t serve soda nor pizza or pasta!
James and I flew into Genoa, Italy to overnight before meeting up with my friends Amanda and Joe and their son, Holt. I met Amanda in Grade 8 and Joe in Grade 10. We have quite the history, and I still proudly claim credit for introducing them. In my version of events, they met because of me, got married because of me, and therefore their son exists because of me. (This is, of course, a gross exaggeration, but I refuse to surrender the credit.)
With us living in Europe, they suggested a joint trip to Northern Italy followed by a visit to Madrid.
The original plan for James and I was to take a regional train from Genoa to Camogli, but due to interrupted service caused by regional strikes, we found ourselves taking a taxi. It was only about 20 kilometres, but thanks to the strikes, traffic was terrible and the cab ride wasn’t exactly cheap. Not helping matters was our first taxi driver, who effectively kicked us out once he learned “how far” we wanted to go.
After finding a more willing driver, our arrival in Camogli was relatively easy and we arrived before Amanda and Joe. Like many coastal towns built along steep cliffs, there was no direct access to our apartment. It was either down a bunch of stairs or up a bunch of stairs. Knowing this reality, we alerted Amanda and Joe and suggested they briefly pull over beside a set of randomly placed dumpsters along the coastal highway, unload their luggage, and let us take custody of their son.
We later discovered that, thanks again to the strikes, returning their rental car on time was going to be nearly impossible. We suggested they simply use the “assigned parking space.” Said parking space happened to be a questionable section of curb located on a curve where it seemed entirely possible another vehicle might sideswipe you.
Despite the initial challenges, we got settled into the apartment and the owner kindly walked us to the grocery store to pick up some essentials. I think he was genuinely trying to be helpful, though we quickly realized he was also very eager for us to use his points card.
Afterward, we wandered through the coastal streets and discovered that despite our quiet location, the town was very much alive. Like Madrid, dining hours were later, so sitting down for dinner at 8:30 p.m. proved to be no problem.
One of the highlights of our stay came through an invitation from one of Amanda’s clients who is in the process of immigrating to Italy. She and her husband invited us to a BBQ and casually mentioned they lived in part of a castle.
Much to all of our frustration, we failed to get a single picture of the property, which was, in fact, palatial. Even more shocking to James and me was that it cost roughly half of what we currently pay in rent. Now, this place wasn’t without its challenges. There was no real air conditioning and we heard some truly horrifying stories involving bats and murder hornets. Still, it featured painted fresco ceilings and hidden spaces that would have made hide-and-seek the greatest childhood game imaginable.
As if the setting wasn’t impressive enough, they served American-style BBQ, which was an enormous treat for James and I.
Armed with local knowledge, our hosts reserved beach chairs and umbrellas for us the following day. They arrived early to secure our spots while the rest of us enjoyed a very slow start to the morning. For Holt, this beach day was one of the highlights of the trip. In truth, I don’t think any of us minded the break.
We relied on public transportation throughout our stay in Camogli and found the train system maddeningly frustrating. It often required a full team effort to determine which train and platform we actually needed. At one point, while heading back to our apartment, our train simply rattled past our intended stop and deposited us in the next town over.
Being in a smaller community, taxis weren’t exactly abundant. We found ourselves debating whether to walk forty minutes back or take the next train in the opposite direction and hope it stopped where we needed it to. Fortunately, it did.
We ate at several restaurants, some more child-friendly than others. Who would have thought a child could become tired of pizza and pasta? And OMG, no soda? And this time, no pizza nor pasta nor chicken fingers?!? The absolute outrage. In fairness, if someone told me there was no wine, I would probably have had a similar reaction.
For the second part of our trip, we picked up a rental van and headed toward Lake Garda. As much as I LOVE Madrid, I will admit that lush green mountains and crystal-clear lake waters remain among my favourite landscapes.
Our next apartment was located in Riva del Garda, in the northern region of Lake Garda. Joe and Amanda had planned a variety of adventures for us, beginning with a cable car ride up to the Bastione di Riva del Garda. The panoramic views were breathtaking. Our young travel companion was considerably less impressed by the walking but found great pleasure in running everywhere instead. Ah, to be young and possess that kind of energy.
We watched paragliders launch themselves into the air and drift gracefully over the valley below. Joe took hundreds of photographs and occasionally remembered to include the rest of us in a few.
After much exploring, we stopped for a late lunch. In this region of Italy, you hear almost as much German as Italian. Much to our collective relief, menus expanded beyond pizza and pasta to include German cuisine and various German-Italian fusion dishes. We also encountered Italian fusion sushi, which was… interesting.
Near where we were staying is the famous road featured in the opening car chase of the 2008 James Bond film Quantum of Solace. Naturally, this was a must-do. Following a brief negotiation over who would drive, Amanda won the drive up and James won the drive down.
I, meanwhile, was perfectly content to sit back and admire the scenery while observing the core strength required to navigate fourteen numbered hairpin turns (with number thirteen mysteriously omitted).
At the top sits the Passo Nota Alpini Refuge, a popular destination for cyclists and a place that serves exactly the type of high-calorie food required after climbing a mountain. Amanda rather loudly commented on all the “cheaters” riding e-bikes, though I chose not to engage. It seemed unwise to start a fight with people who had at least pedaled up the mountain while we had arrived in a comfortable van.
The reward was one of the most memorable grilled cheese sandwiches any of us had ever eaten. Forget toasted bread with melted cheese. Think two-centimetre-thick slabs of grilled cheese sandwiched between bread. Add impossibly cheesy polenta and cold beer, and life was good.
Another standout excursion was the Santuario Madonna della Corona. While James and I have admittedly developed a bit of cathedral fatigue over the years, this one was worth the visit. Dating back to the 16th century, it appears to cling impossibly to the side of a near-vertical cliff.
I’ll add two other annoyances that rarely make it into travel stories because most people only want to hear the highlights.
First, Italy still has a surprising number of squat toilets. And yes, yes, I understand that I am a guest and should simply embrace the cultural experience. However, my particular anatomy and lack of balance make it nearly impossible to use one without somehow peeing on a shoe, down my leg, or both. I absolutely hate them.
Our second challenge was buying gas.
We are fairly certain we got ripped off all three times we attempted it. The first time, Amanda paid for fuel that never dispensed and likely paid for someone else’s tank. Another time, our pump showed €75, only for us to be charged €105 inside. By the time we reached the airport and Amanda and Joe encountered yet another fuel-related issue, we were convinced the entire Italian gas station system is a scam.
As Joe later texted us:
“These gas stations can fuck right off.”
As frustrating as parts of this trip were, I suspect those are the stories we’ll remember most. The beaches, mountains, castles, and incredible scenery were all spectacular, but years from now we’ll probably spend more time laughing about missed trains, impossible parking, mystery gas charges, and a child scandalized by the absence of soda.
Travel has a funny way of doing that.
James and I returned to Madrid on Saturday while Amanda and Joe continued on to Venice for one more day. This week they join us here, and we’re looking forward to sharing some of our favourite spots while adopting a slightly less ambitious pace that includes more tinto de verano and siestas.
Travel Tips
• Research national holidays before booking travel.
• Research regional strikes and service disruptions.
• Bring reusable grocery bags.
• Pack conditioner at a minimum. Better yet, consider bringing your own shampoo and body wash if you’re staying somewhere other than a hotel.
• Bring a washcloth if you use one. They are not nearly as common in Europe as they are in North America.
• Assume at least one transportation mishap will occur and build that expectation into your travel plans. It is much easier on your blood pressure.
Sounds like a true adventure! Never quite sure what to expect next!