Tales of Me and the Husband

Tremezzo, Lake Como, Italy. Part two.



I’m quickly realizing, if I allow it, the blogging of our big Italian adventure could be pictures pure and simple, with no (or little) words to accompany it.  And while some of my readers might be pleased by that, the journal-loving English major in me would look back disappointed.  There’s so much more than just the sights!  I’ll get it down as fast as these fingers will type.

So here’s some Tremezzo in words.  Words and pictures.  Because the photographer in me can’t go without the pictures either.
It’s weird, arriving to a place you’ve heard of forever.  What were my expectations?  We hear about the George Clooney Lake Como, that it’s a beautiful big lake in northern Italy but… what else?  I’m not really sure.  It is beautiful, it is big, and I haven’t seen George Clooney.  I haven’t really been looking either.  There are colorful towns on the lake, they remind me a little bit of the Cinque Terre villages minus the sea and salt and plus a little more grandeur.  The fact that they’re immediately backed up by these beautiful mountains really makes the whole scene pretty spectacular.
There’s a lot of smoking.  It’s funny that I notice this, but these days, I can go weeks without smelling cigarette smoke in the States.  We don’t live right in a city so perhaps this is why, but neither are these little towns along the lake considered a big city and yet, cigarette smoke.  I’m beginning to not notice.   Lots of pizza e pasta e panini on the menu.  I always scan for a vegetable.  I am not my best self on carbs and carbs alone.  Today I got pizza rucola, or pizza with bunch of arugula on top.  Check the greens off the list.  Steve called it a pizza for a rabbit.  I’ll have the last laugh when he’s sleeping lunch off!  I drizzled olive oil all over it, because it’s delicious.  We ate right on the lake.  Practically everywhere is right on the lake.  Motorcycles zoom by, some with engines reminiscent of a chain saw, and they pass cars on the left willy-nilly.  No beeping, no swearing, no one minds.  It’s a wonder more vehicles don’t go plowing into roadside cafes dotting the landscape.  Are Italian drivers just better than us?  I’m not sure.

There’s fewer rules here, it seems.  For instance, a boat went speeding by us the other day while we ate.  Right up front, a girl sat on it.  The bow?  Anyway, “that’s illegal in the States,” Steve says.  There were big floats in the pool, absolutely no “no diving” signs, and, after handling these enormous raw cuts of beef, the butcher down the street quickly grabs four loaves of bread, throws them into a bag, and hands them to Steve, no hand-washing in between.  It begs the question: is all of our rule-following necessary?

Steve and I snuck out last night for a quick drink and a slice of torta della nonna.  I am a sucker for anything lemon.  I looked at the menu, and decided to do something unexpected.  “A negroni, per favore!”  When in Rome!  (Or Como.).  I declared it not my drink.  I want to like Campari, it’s the Italian way, but alas, Campari and I are not to be.

We haven’t found a big grocery store, though I know even when we do it won’t be like the ones in the States.  But I would like a giant vat of plain yogurt.  Plain yogurt with granola is my go-to in all hunger emergencies.  It’s my go-to for Parker too, and I’m always mindful of the next sugar crash.  I stashed apricots underneath the stroller the other day, a banana too.  Anders had his first banana, a portion anyway, on a dock on the lake and I thought, “How grand.  His first banana on Lake Como.  I’ll tell him this one day.”  When we got produce the first day we were here, rainy and cool, an old man (I’m almost certain his name is Luigi based on what our rental owner told me) grabbed an apricot and told Parker, “Vieni, vieni.”  This means come, right?  He began to walk away, the man with the apricot, urging Parker to follow him.  I went with, as Parker was not about to go it alone, and just ahead he stopped at one of those little spigots that you find all over Italy.  He turned it, washed the apricot, and gave it to Parker. Meanwhile, Steve tells me that his wife, who was busy bagging our groceries, says, in good humor, “My husband.  He give too much away!”  Parker finished the entire thing, leaving only the pit behind.  “Grazie!”  Luigi told me the translation: “apricotta.”  I’m sure I’m spelling it wrong.  
It’s little moments like these I want to remember when the going is tough, which it is sometimes, which it will be.  I routinely go between, “This is incredible.  We’re in Italy for three months,” to, “What are we, crazy?!”

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Comments

  2. Thank you so much for letting us experience Italy with you. I keep thinking, one of these days she's going to get sick of recapping her vaca for thousands of people-please don't let it be so! Thanks for taking all of us along with you.

    Reply

  4. I am insanely jealous!!!
    Does Steve have to work on the trip? Or is this truly a real-deal sabbatical of refreshing the brain and it happens to be in Italy? 🙂 I might need to force le husband to go into a different career.

    Reply

  5. Hi Bridget, you HAVE to journal your experience, I am italian and I loved reading your prospective on our country!
    I am one of those pesky motorcycle driver who pass car on the left and on the right, I have to admit it's wrong, but it's so much faster!
    An apricot it's spelled "albicocca" and for the big grocery store you should ask direction for the nearest "Auchan", "Ipercoop" or "Esselunga", they might not be as big as the ones you are used to, but they will do, you probably haven't found one yet because you're in a small city, they are usually located in more industrial areas.
    I look forward to more posts!

    Reply

    • ha! i love that you're one of those pesky motorcycle drivers 🙂 if i had a motorcycle i might be the same way.

      thank you for the apricot information! and i will definitely be checking out the nearest big grocer when i get a chance!

      Reply

  7. Sorry if you answered this already- but those sandals! dreamy in the "not quite too crunchy" way. Where from? …and yes, keep these posts coming!

    Reply

  10. I'm so enjoying your tales. And so glad you're including words with the pictures. So interesting about how there are not so many rules there. We have too many here except when you mention "cutting the meat, then grabbing the bread and putting in a bag without washing hands" part!

    Reply

  11. Your pictures are so beautiful! I'm Italian-American but have never been to Italy. I have to admit I'm a leeeeetle bit jealous of your adventure. So, did you have trouble eating the bread after seeing how it was handled? I have to be honest… I don't think I could eat it after seeing that. I'd have to throw it away. And what a tragedy to throw out authentic Italian bread!

    Reply

  12. You should try a spritz Aperol if you aren't a fan of negronis, they are similar but instead of vermouth and gin, the spritz Aperol has prosecco in it! I've been told you can only get them in the Veneto region but I'd bet you can get one in Como. I met my husband in Vicenza, Italy and reading about your travels is bringing back so many nice memories (as well as envy! lol!) What a grand adventure!!

    Reply

  13. I'm loving your travel posts. I have been to Italy when I was younger during high school. I went to boarding school in Germany for 3 years, and we took a senior trip to Italy. It was wonderful and I really want to visit with my husband alone without the kids now that I am older and can have much more of an appreciation for it then I did back then. Anyways, it's fun to hear how you are doing it with your family! Thanks for posting! Also, where is your swimsuit from??? I LOVE it and like that it's a one piece but still really sexy and shows more of your back….and I love the red color too 🙂

    Reply

  15. You should try a Spritz… with Aperol, some people make it with Campari, but the best one is with Aperol…. My girlfriends and I would always go and have some in the cafes around town back when I lived in Italy. I miss them so much!

    Reply

  16. Normally, I would stray away from travel blog posts because they always seem to come across as "look at me! now you're green with envy, right?" but your blog posts are exactly the opposite.

    Even as a homebody, you've got me with a travel bug and it's because of your stunning photography (your photos are so crisp and I loooove the lighting and am so curious as to what lens you shoot with!) and the STORIES you tell. My goodness, I love them all and feel like I'm almost there with you. Please don't stop sharing! 🙂

    Reply

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