…oh, and also Milan.

We spent the best part of a day on trains from Venice to Varenna (on the lake).  A day of ups: where we thought we scored/stole a free upgrade to first class on the train to Varenna (the fact we’re not sure gives you an idea of the quality) and downs: some Americans talked to us at a station because they thought (sigh) we were American (oh how the tears flowed and so much was now clear).   We’ve now stopped trying to be un-American by using “Ciao” or “Buongiorno” and kick off every greeting with a, “G’day mate, howsitgarn, got any bloomin’ kangaroos here or what eh?…and PS: we’re Australian but”

Now (now pron: neow) in Varenna and things were getting ridiculous, we’ve continued moving from fairytale to fairytale. Stunning, quiet and with watercolours of George Clooney’s villa readily accessible. Omega watch: check. Grey hair: um…check 😦 Clever and beautiful wife: check. Lakeside accommodation: check. Nespresso machine: check…wait what? Lui? I guess that’s what else, Nespresso!

We had a lovely dinner on a rooftop looking over the lake and mountains (where we were visited by a lovely blind cat and yes, the poor old thing did have…cataracts); took a swim in the lake along with a few other people, but mainly with what appeared to be degrading toilet paper (reminding me of the saying “what doesn’t kill you, can only make you stronger”, which while this maybe true, it kind of covers up the reality that it can also make you very, very ill before hand…you know…or give you spots on your wedding day, just as a way out there thought…maybe we’re still a little sensitive); took a day trip to Bellagio, while on the ferry we managed to overhear (by not sticking salami in our ears) some lovely Americans discussing staying in an (“only”) $1000 per night hotel and also getting seniors discounts (not wanting to start a generational war here, as many of our favourite parents are seniors, so I’ll leave that one there…..); watched sunset on what turned out to be a private terrace looking up and down the lake; drank mimosas looking from our bed out over the lake; really spent lots of time looking at the lake; and fell in love with Varenna.  It’s turning out to be a very polygamous trip…if that can be applied to towns.

On leaving Varenna by train, we realised that instead of scoring the free upgrade, as thought previously, we may have just avoided an expensive downgrade. This was discovered after thinking we’d made the same error again and attempted to rectify the atrocity by sprinting down the platform at the first stop with 50kg off baggage (and significantly more of ourselves), to an overcrowded carriage and then realising that everyone on this train was equal. Although, it clearly looked as if some were more equal than others.

In Milan, Lea discovered the origins of the term “tight arse” at the Duomo where we avoided an extra €2 each, by not taking the lift to the top and instead climbing the thousands of stairs. The view from top was worth the glute work out.  You could see, up close, the Gothic on Gothic style (which you can’t tell was restrained over the centuries of building it, to be less French), there are spires just glued to the walls wherever there’s space, kind of like St Paul’s in Melbourne…if you demolished St Paul’s in Melbourne and built a replica of the Duomo in its place.  However, inside was (and probably still is) something else. Grand columns, amazing windows, statues, art, over the top extravagance, intricate, flat floors (amazing what can happen when you build on terre ferme and not a lagoon). Where the “poor”, old church did seem to have run out of money was in the seating…it was almost as if the pews were designed to make you feel uncomfortable and unimportant?

We were lucky that the one thing James booked worked out, quelle surprise! (I don’t know any Italian.) The tickets he’d booked to La Boheme at La Scala were indeed at our hotel (Hotel Regina…ain’t nothing finer than being in Regina….except maybe many other hotels, or Fanny…a villa on Bellagio) on arrival as promised by “Buono Backyard Booking Co”, and we could see the stage…and it was incredible! There were horses and goats and of course, no opera is complete, without a good muff.  But, on this occasion (as on all for over a hundred years) poor Mimi couldn’t be saved by Musetta’s muff (it turns out Musetta was quite generous with her muff). But we’re all lucky that in this day and age we know consumption can’t be treated by muff alone.

My limitation of superlatives (already used up) can’t describe the La Scala theatre inside (I say it was amazing again…or incredibly, amazing…or incredibly, amazingly, beautiful and nobody judged my lack of vocabulary, I would) and it was a refreshing way to do opera, three hours in the theatre, but one hour was set aside for drinking and of the rest was equally split between the occasional performances, the ovations and the cheap, locals standing behind us and shooshing the rest of the crowd if they clapped a millisecond too early.

NB: The Nespresso tag line is or has been “Nespresso, what else?” And George Clooney likes Nespresso or has been paid to…and also has a place in Lake Como.  Which is where we stayed….on the Lake, not George’s places.  But, it was still awesome.