Day 6 in Cremona

Sleep came quickly that first night in Cremona. Since the room was warm, I had opened up the balcony doors allowing the cool night air to filter into the room while we slept. Sometime in the middle of the night, a pungent aroma began seeping into the room. It was a smell that reminded me of walking through tunnels or standing in a subway station in a big city. I thought to myself that there might be homeless people sleeping or living in open area between the buildings. The odor may also be coming from the manholes in the city itself. I got out of bed and shut the balcony doors and drifted off to sleep immediately. Luann had not even moved, which was a good thing. We woke up at 8:00 AM. and lazily took our time getting ready to go to breakfast. Today was considered a free day. After an optional morning walking tour of Cremona, we would have the the afternoon to do what we wanted.







It appeared the rest of the group had lounged around a bit this morning because the dining room was pretty full for 9:00 AM. The dining room was half the size of the dining room in the hotel at Stresa. There was a large table in the middle of the room, filled with cold cuts and cheese, breads, hard boiled eggs, yogurt, cereal, fruit, juices and pastry. There was a small table in the far corner where there were three decanters for coffee and hot water. In this restaurant there was no one to seat you and you helped yourself to the coffee. We sat at a table by ourselves because it looked like everyone was pretty well along with their breakfast. After filling our plates, I went to get coffee for the two of us. Doyle warned me that the coffee was strong and recommended a little hot water to tame it down. I should have noticed this because of the size of the cup. The cup was the size of a little kid's tea set and I wasn't sure that one cup would be enough for Luann. It looked like I was going to be up here a lot. Doyle understated the strength of the coffee. It tasted like someone had decided not to add water to it, but just melt the grounds. It didn't taste bad, it just made you wince with fear at the thought of the caffeine working through your system and making you feel like you had been given a blood transfusion with landscape light voltage. I could only drink one cup. Luann had two. We were now wide awake and ready to go. We were to meet outside the hotel at 10:00AM for the walking tour. A trip back up to the room to get a coat and sweatshirt was about all the time we had by the time we finished breakfast.







We all met outside the hotel at exactly 10:00AM as scheduled. The day was another beauty. It was sunny, a little breezy and the temperature at that hour was in the low to mid sixties. I could not believe the weather we had experienced on this trip. I had decided to wear shorts and my Notre Dame hooded sweatshirt over a short sleeve polo. I did not know how far this tour would go and I sure didn't want a repeat of the weather fiasco of the day before. Melissa prefaced the tour with an explanation that our scheduled tour guide had had a heart attack and that we would be having a substitute. There was no detail on the condition of the original guide, which made me drift off and imagine what her condition could possibly be. We all stood there, quiet, thinking about the tour guide. Our thoughts were quickly doused when the sub introduced herself. She was in her early to mid thirties, reddish hair, glasses and slender. As she talked to us in English, she would show us a pronounced accent that was very pleasant. She would pause on occasion to find the right English word to say and then pick up the tempo and continue her dialogue. She informed us that she did not have the knowledge that the original guide had, but that she did know Cremona, especially the violin connection and that we would still have a good tour. She led us away from the hotel and up the narrow street, where we came to a stop in the middle of the square, surrounded by the majesty of the tower and centurys old buildings. The group huddled around her as she talked about the history of the tower, the baptistry and the mostly the Cathedral. The breeze was more evident in the square and it would get a little chilly when the sun went behind an occasional cloud. However, it was a very nice morning, none the less. As she continued talking and giving us information on Pope Gregory, I found my self having problems understanding her. The openness of the square, the pedestrian traffic and the sound of motor vehicles made it hard to hear her. Her accent now made it difficult to understand her. I watched the group, especially Anne eagerly catching every word she was saying and laughing at the funny comments she would throw on occasion. As the lecture continued, some of us drifted a few steps back and talked. The guide informed us that the tower had five hundred steps leading to the top. When Luann heard this, she was quick to make plans that we would be walking to the top sometime today. She recruited Pat and Sharon and I knew was in by default.



The history lesson ended with more information than I could ever remember. We were now going to visit the violin manufacturing facility. However, it could not accomodate the whole group so we had to split up. Half of the group would go with the guide to the facility, while the other half would continue a walking tour of Cremona with Melissa. Luann and I, accompanied by Pat and Sharon, decided to do our own walking tour of Cremona and join Melissa and the others in the square at 11:00 AM to attend the violin demonstration. The four of us left the square and walked along a narrow street that intersected the square. There was a restaurant/ice cream shop on the corner. The rest of the street was lined with shops, bakeries and boutiques. There were no automobiles allowed on this street, but we did have to sidestep the occasional bicycle that would pedal by. The street was not real busy yet, but it was evident that it would be packed within an hour or so. We stepped into one of the chocolate shops and looked at the numerous articles they sold there. It was hard to imagine how all they could sell all of this inventory day after day, or if they didn't, what was the shelf life? The employees were helping another customer so our time here was short. We walked out of the store and window shopped at a nice jewelry store, where Pat and I separated from Luann and Sharon. We both saw the gleam in their eyes as they looked at diamond necklaces and bracelets and we knew we would be an easy kill in such a romantic setting. Fortunately for us, they were as frugal as we were and never asked us to buy them anything. I would make sure Luann got an ice cream before this day was over.





We came out of the narrow street into a boulevard that continued in both directions with more shops and restaurants. Across the boulevard was a park that was filling up fast with people. We walked across the street and noticed that the park served as a square. It was not a very big park but it had a uniqueness to it that got our attention. There were huge boulders stacked up along the far end of the park, where a person could walk around a tree-lined path. The boulders looked like large granite blocks that made for some careful stepping. We walked through this path and then headed back to where we came in. It was here that we found a small chained area that contained the grave of Stradevarious. It was under a magnificent oak tree and the inscription on the headstone depicted his contibution to the world of music. It was amazing to stand at this site and try to picture what the park or the neighborhood looked like in his day. It also made me realize how fast our lives fly by. A few short steps away from the grave was a playgound with swings. There were some younger people already enjoying the morning on the swing sets. Directly across the park on the opposite corner was a large indoor shopping center, with an open entrance that made it seem like it was outside. A person could walk through the open entrance and end up on another street not visible from the park. There were outdoor tables set up for the restaurant within the shopping center. We walked through the center and then started to make our way back to the square since our thirty minutes was almost up.





We walked back through the park and up the narrow street and saw Kenny and Shirley doing some window shopping along the way. Our group walked back into the cobblestone square and saw Melissa and the others waiting in the center. Melissa led us in the opposite direction, down another narrow street and we stopped in front of a small store. This was where we were going to learn about violin making. Inside we could see the other group clapping as the violin maker finished his presentation. The small door to the shop opened up and the other group started filing out. One of the Michigan tourists remarked that this presentation was worth the time and he was very impressed with what he had seen. Our group was welcomed into the small shop by the guide and we were encouraged to sit in one of the twelve small folding chairs set up in front of the violin maker. Pat chose to stand in the back by the small door as we were in pretty tight quarters.





The shop was the size of a good sized living room. Along one of the walls were the certificates certifying the violin maker as an approved maker of violins. Under the certificates was a small credenza that held a small hand saw, violin shells and various parts that went into making a violin. On the opposite wall was a small window, with a curtain in front of it. Along the wall, there was a small room that had a full length red curtain in front of it that I pictured to be the violin makers actual bench and work area. The back wall had a window and all sorts of wood working tools. There were small violins in various stages of production hanging from the ceiling. There was a young Italian, probably in his late thirties or early fortys standing in front of our seated group, with a small table separating him from us. He had a pretty violin in his hand and he constantly caressed it as if he was holding a precious kitten. He was short, slender with brown hair and he stood there waiting to be intorduced to the group. We quickly sat down and the guide introduced our host. He spoke very little English. He would say a few words in Italian, then the guide would interpret it to us and the process would repeat itself constantly. The young man had a sense of humor because he would say something to the guide, the guide would share it with the group and then people would laugh. I could not make anything out of the conversation. I was having trouble with the acoustics and her accent, so I would just sit there and nod like always. If people laughed, I laughed. It was uncomfortable, but it was interesting to see how a violin was made from scratch. He showed us how he took the wood and hand sanded it to the right dimension. He showed us the labor intensity involved in putting the strings on and the difficulty involved when trying to get the pegs set up in the instrument itself. He showed us the staining agent that he mixed himself, not something purchased at a local hardware store. I couldn't understand a lot of the conversation so I drifted off and imagined what kind of a career I would have had as a violin maker. I could picture a corner filled with scrap wood that was the result of me throwing one of these works of art at the wall because I couldn't get the thing together. I could envision the strings wrapped around like a ball of steel wool because I had accidently wound it the wrong way. I could see bows taped together with duct tape because I would accidently break them and be too cheap to buy more horse hair, which we learned was what they were made of. I don't think I would have made a good violin maker. Pat agreed with me on this because he said I didn't have the patience. Luann didn't even consider the possibility as I am not allowed to handle tools back home, let alone make anything. The presentation lasted thirty minutes and the violin maker ended it by playing a piece on the violin he had been holding since we got there. I don't know if he was good or great. I know he wasn't bad. We all clapped and made our way put of the small shop. We were all going to go through the cathedral and then be entertained with a violin recital at the violin museum.

We left the small shop and headed back to the center of the square where the rest of our group had gathered with Melissa. We stood in the sun while pedestrians on foot and on bikes went past us in all directions, not seeming to notice us at all. It was now almost noon and the day was warming up nicely. There was still a small breeze but it didn't have the chill that it had a couple of hours before. The square was busy with people, mostly locals going to and from work, but there were numerous tourists and students taking tours of the cathedral and the baptistry. Our guide continued her history lesson, focusing on the cathedral and the numerous statues and ornate objects that adorned it. She continued her discourse as we walked through a set of large wooden doors that were offset from the main entrance. The main entrance doors were locked. We walked into a very large open area, surrounded by wall to wall frescos depicting scenes of midevevial battles, with Christ's crucifixion being in the center of them. The ceiling was one huge fresco after another, similar to Michelangelo's Sistine Chapel masterpiece in the Vatican. There were images of divine intervention, saints and the whole story of creation leading up to the crucifixion beautifully displayed. It was impossible to comprehend the length of time it took to paint these, let alone the talent to make it look like the characeters were reaching down to us or talking to us. This was the world that we talked about in history classes that was now open to us as tourists in old Italy. The scene here was mind boggling. The cathedral also serves as a museum, but not in the sense of what we are accustomed to. There were various altars along the walls honoring various Saints and historical occurances that happened throughout the history of the Catholic Church. This Cathedral was predominantly honoring the death of Christ. Everywhere we looked there was some statue of Mary lamenting her Son's death, people staring at Christ on the cross. It was captivating. The guide continued her expalnation of the frescos and the statues, but it was now next to impossible for me to understand her. The cavernous cathedral echoed her voice to the point of being unrecognizable. I wandered away from the group and looked at the various altars and old world remnants that were neatly encased in glass. I saw crowns adorned with rubies and emeralds, swords bigger than me, there plaques with stories honoring fallen veterans of old wars and battles. It was too much to take in for the short time we were to be in there. In the far corner there was a tent set up with a scaffold inside and a geneleman in a white lab coat applying gold overlayment to one of the altars that was being restored. He had a couple of young assistants, one holding a palate for him to dip his brush into and the other, helping adjust the light. The look on his face was one of absolute peace as he meticulously touched up the old wall that was being refurbished. He smiled as he finished this piece of work and walked down the scaffold to shake hands with someone that had just walked into that part of the church. Our group was now beginning to move towards the exit, so I left mey personal tour and headed to meet them. The Cathedral of Santa Maria Assunto is a must see for anyone interested in art and history. I left the Cathedral shaking my head in disbelief at how history could fly by so fast and how the world could have such talented people. A goup of young students were coming in as I walked out looking for Luann and the group.

The guide had slowed her pace down but continued talking to the group as we crossed the square and headed towards the Palazzo Commnunale. This was where we were going to see the violin museum and hear a recital. As Melissa went in to get the tickets, the guide stood and talked about what we were going to do. We were now under a porch area so the temperature was much cooler than in the sun. While the guide talked, I walked over to the numerous memorial plaques that hung on the walls along the outside of this building. the plaques were all in Italian, just as they were in the Cathedral. However, these plaques were all about the modern wars. There were plaques honoring the brigades that had fought valiantly in both World War I and II. There were the Italian announcements that declared war, there were stories depicting numerouse battles that had been fought against the fascists after joing the Allies when Mussolini was toppled. I could have read for hours, but it was time to go in. Our guide informed us that we could only go in in groups of eight to view the violins. Also, we learned that the violins had to be played every day for twenty minutes. I was more excited with the plaques I had just read than in the museum, but I followed the others as we walked into the palace and up a long set of stairs that led us into what looked like a courtroom.

There was an aisle separating two identical seating areas. Each area had approximately twelve rows with six wooden seats in each row. There was a wooden front and back in front of each row to make it seem like you were in a box seat at a ball game. Only here, everything was a rich dark cherry colored wood. At the front, facing the audience, were tables neatly arranged in a semicircle whith chairs carefully tucked in. This was the government building and this is where the Cremona City government would meet. The Italian flag and the state flag were at the left of the meeting area. All around this room were oil paintings dating back to the fourteenth and fifteenth century. These paintings were in line with what we had seen at the cathedral. They were life size, which gave me the sensation that I was being watched the whole time I sat there. I could only think about what our city hall had on its walls and marveled at the historical significance in this country. Luann and I sat with Pat and Sharon in the front row and waited for our guide to make her announcement. We didn't wait long. Our guide walked to the front of the group and told us about the room and the museum we would be seeing in a few minutes. She talked a little about the recital we were going to here and then introduced the gentleman that was going to play for us.

He had been standing at the door that led into a small anteroom at the front of the meeting room. As he walked up to the front, he carried his violin gingerly in his left hand and his bow in the right. He was about 5'6" tall and slender. Thinning white hair and small brown eyes were a perfect complement to the tan gabardine suit he wore, touched off by his blue tie. He was impecabbly dressed and I wondered if he dressed like this all the time. He had class written all over him. He softly talked a little about the piece he was going to play and his voice was so soothing, it made a nice contrast to the guides heavily accented English. Everything he said was interpreted. He dipped his head in respect to us and took his violin and bow to the corner of the meeting area and began to play. He didn't just start, he took a two second pause that allowed him to close his eyes and set the tone. The music that came from the instrument must have been directly linked to his heart. His eyes never opened and his bow and fingers worked in unison across the strings of the violin like a master artist putting his images on a blank canvas. I had no idea what he was playing but it was beautiful. I couldn't take my eyes off of the elegance he displayed as the violin exhuded a perfect melody. I don't know how he compared to other violinists, but to my ears, he was great. He finished and we gave him a nice applause. He bowed and walked out the same door he had come in on. I found out that he was one of the people whose job it was to play the antique violins every day for twenty minutes.

We had decided to be one of the last groups to go into the violin museum. We were engrossed in the numerouse oil paintings hung around the room. The dates were so old and and these painting looked so good that it was hard to imagine people actually painting them. Some looked good enough to be photographs. It was finally time to enter the small room that held the oldest violins in history. They were all suspended in mid air by clear nylon wires and encased in glass. We saw instruments that looked like they had just been made, but were actually five hundred to eight hundred years old. The Stratevarious hung there like the prima donna it was and mocked the othet violins hanging alongside. None of them would ever reach the level of fameness that it had reached. Everything in here was priceless. We saw instruments that had been the property of famous kings of old, rich politicians and names that came out of history books. I am not a musical instrument person, but this was captivating. We spend fifteen minutes in here and walked out as the last group walked in. We were told that the tour for the day was over and that we were now on our own for the rest of the day. However, we needed a group picture first. The whole group filed out like an elementary school during a fire drill. Not much talking, just following the teachers. Outside the violin maker was standing in front of a tripod waiting for us. My first instinct was to think that he wanted a picture of everyone he had presented to. My second thought was that maybe it took so long to make a violin and get paid for it, that a second job was necessary to feed a family. Either way, he only took one picture and we were done. I looked around at the flags that were strung around the square protesting the square being available to undesirables after midnight as the picture was taken. It was not my best side. Tomorrow we would go to Milan. It was now twelve forty-five and it was time to explore Cremona and get something to eat at one of the small cafes.

We were dismissed and the group scattered like ants trying to escape from a hungry aardvark back to the hotel. This was not too dissimilar to being given the afternoon off from school. Luann and I walked back to the hotel and stopped at the produce stand that had somehow appeared out of nowhere at the entrance to the square. I purchased another two kilograms of grapes and headed into the lobby of our hotel. We quickly took the steps up to the fourth floor devouring grapes on the way. Luann and I got rid of sweater and sweatshirt and headed right back down to the lobby. I was informed on the way down the steps, much easier than going up, that we were now going to meet Pat and Sharon for a walk up to the top of the tower. I erronously thought that meant later in the afternoon. I led us out of the lobby and towards the street going away from the square when Luann informed me that she was going up to the top of the tower now. I stood on the corner weighing the option of letting Luann climb the tower by herself and me getting away from the square versus both of us climbing the tower and losing another hour seeing more of the square. The pretty blue eyes quickly solved that decision. I had seen the look on a few occasions and recognized it immediately. Her eyes, though pretty blue, were now flickering with the tint of a steel blades as they turn and catch the rays of the sun. The daggers hit me right in the head and I watched her turn slowly away. The next set of daggers came out from behind her head when she told me she would tell Pat and Sharon that we would not be going to climb the tower with them. I dropped my head and sheepishly followed her back to the entrance of the hotel. I quickly pulled all four daggers out and stood there watching Pat and Sharon trying to figure out if we were going or not. I dreaded the climb after having eaten most of my grapes, but I followed. We walked back into the square and saw Doyle and Cindy sitting outside at a pizzeria sipping on wine and enjoying the sunshine as we passed by. The tower called and I was praying that Doyle and Cindi would beckon us.

We reached the entrance to the ominous tower and imagined what it would have been like centuries ago. We were quickly brought back to the present when the Italian sign on the large wooden doors said it was closed until 1:30 PM. The ominous tower had a lunch break. I sighed a soft sigh of relief that could not be detected by human ears as I informed the rest of the our foursome that it was closed for lunch. We stood in the square trying to figure out what to do. Pat and Sharon decided to go eat lunch at the restaurant across from the tower, while Luann and I decided that we would eat later. Luann and I started out of the square in the same direction we had gone earlier that morning passing the same shops and looking in the same windows. We walked through the park and caught another street that led us into a pedestrian area where cars were not permitted. This part of Cremona was much more extravagant than where we had been. There were tailor shops, jewelry stores, restaurants and more higher end shopping than we had seen up until this point. We moved through this part quickly and ended up in a residential neighborhhod, with small shops and eateries. A quick survey of this area made us realize that we were walking away from the square and familiarity. We also noticed that there were not any outdoor restaurants here and that stores were starting to close. It was around 1:15 PM and the stores were literally getting locked up, with the gates being pulled down over the front doors. We walked through a road repair project and decided to get off this street and make our way back to the square. We had walked far enough away from the tower that we could now see the tower behind us. The closer you are to the tower, the harder it is to see the pinnacle. We walked back towards the square and came across a church that looked like it was boarded up. There was a historical plaque on the church telling us it was the oldest Church in Cremona, but I could not read the huge Roman numerals that depicted its built day. Truthfully, I was never very good with Roman numerals past the X's. A couple of dead ends later and we found the street we had been on. We made it back to the square following the same streets we had originally taken. As we walked down the narrow street towards the square, we passed Melissa and the driver enjoying a bottle of white wine at an outdoor cafe. I was ready to eat, but by now the tower would be open and I wanted no more wounds.

We arrived back at the restaurant that Pat and Sharon had chosen and they were still sitting there enjoying the sun and finishing their meal. It was just past 1:30 in the afternoon so we knew the tower should be open. Luann and I decided to get the walk up the tower out of the way and then enjoy a nice lunch in the sun. We left Pat and Sharon and walked into the entrance of the tower, which also served as the ticket office, imagine that. The little ticket office was painted gray, with a small green counter along the back wall. The prices were displayed in a small laminated card on the door and on top of the counter. The prices were for the tower and the baptistry or just the tower. We did not want to see the baptistry so we were told it would cost us eight euros for the two of us to walk up five hundred steps in the tower. That was approximately twelve dollars or six dollars each way. I looked at Luann and asked her if we really wanted to do this. A quick look told me that was a stupid question. I handed the young man ten euros and he told me that he didn't have change. How could a tourist trap like this not have change? He noticed immediately by the look I gave him that this was my way out. If I had to go get change to walk up the tower, I would not return. He also knew enough English to pick up the word "ripoff" when I was talking to Luann, that I was not going to pay ten euros for a walk up a bunch of steps only to come down a few minutes later. He asked me what I had lower than a ten, to which I replied, seven. He quickly agreed to the seven and Luann and I made our way out of the little office and headed towards the first set of stairs that went up. What a bargain!

Describing a trip up 500 steps can be rather mundane. We started by walking out of the little office, which was an offshoot of the tower. We looked for steps going up, but actually, we had to go down to get to the bottom. The tower was round so it was not difficult to find the starting point. The steps were grated steps with steel hand rails. As we made our ascent up the tower, the steps would change their composition constantly. They started with steel and wound around to different levels. At each level, there were grated windows that allowed us to look at the city at various heights. The day was perfectly clear, so we could see the countryside for miles. Our first landing was right above where Pat and Sharon were still sitting and we could stand on a small balcony and wave at them like the tourists we were. We took a picture there and we started our ascent. We wound up tight passageways where the steps turned from metal to stone. They had to have been redone numerous times because they were excellent. The steep walk put pressure on the thigh muscles and the landings were an opportunity to get a view of the land and also to relieve some of the pressure on the legs. It was not a difficult climb at all, but not something a person with a fear of closed in spaces would like to take. We must have gone through five or six landings before we reached the final leg. We were now one flight away from the top and were greeted to a metal spiral staircase that was wound so tight that it reminded me of the movie Vertigo, with James Stewart. Anyone who has problems with dizzy spells would be tested on this last flight. The steps were very narrow and short, which made us constantly rotate up. I felt like I was watching a toilet flush backwards and I was in the water. I didn't like this. We finally finished and ended up on a landing that allowed us to walk 360 degrees. We could see forever, it seemed. The red tile roofs of the buildings throuhout Cremona, the refinery that was miles away, the stadium and even the highway leading out of the city. Luann took pictures of everything she could, even the bell that had graffiti and people's signatures all over it. The walls up here even had graffiti on them. We were up here a total of six minutes and then decided there was no more to see up here. We headed down and made it back in no time at all. As we walked out into the sunlight, we ran into Pat, Sharon, Bob and Bonnie on their way up. Luann gave them the official step count, 502. It wasn't worth the seven euoros, but at least we had gotten a little more exercise.

Luann and I walked across the square and went to the same restaurant we had seen Doyle and Cindie at earlier. Their kitchen was closed until 4:00PM. We decided to go the place Pat and Sharon had gone to for lunch, right outside the entrance to the tower. We even sat at the same corner table they sat at. We could look down the narrow street that we had made numerous trips down and we could also look down the street leading away from the square that we had yet to walk down. We sat for a few minutes before the nice waitress came to our table to take our order. She told us that it was too late for lunch and all we could get were small margarita pizzas. We ordered two small margarita pizzas and a couple of glasses of cabarnet. Our food arrived a short time later with the wine and we knew that we would have to order again. The pizzas were the size of a small dessert dish. We sipped our wine and ate the pizza quickly as we watched the crowded sidewalk buzzing with activity. The restaurant was also an ice cream shop, which at this time of day was seeing the most business. The tables next to us were crowded with a variety of customers eating some of the most delicious looking desserts I had ever seen. The square was getting crowded with young students on field trips to the square. There was even a group from Canada. The kids were all lined up waiting for the chaperones or teachers to buy them some ice cream. As we sat there, the waiter from the night before rode past on his bicycle. I was able to stop him and shake hands with him. He informed that this was his day off. It was as if we were part of the local clientele. It wasn't long before the group finished their tour of the tower and hollered at us from the balcony a couple of stories above us. They wanted us to save some seats for them to relive the tower adventure with us. Luann quickly snapped a picture and we started pulling chairs to the table. Our group sat together in the sun for a few minutes as we talked about the tower and our plans for tonights dinner. We were all on our own for dinner so getting together seemed like a good idea. Bob and Bonnie left before the rest of us, but it wasn't long before we all got up from the table and headed back to the hotel or for some more shopping. It was now almost 4:00 PM and we had agreed to meet at 6:30.

Luann and I were not quite done exploring this area, so we wandered around some of the streets we had not seen yet. We were looking for a soccer or rugby shirt for Brenton. We went down numerous streets and into a variety of stores but we came up empty handed. After an hour, we decided to go back to the hotel and relax before dinner, which meant Luann wanted a short nap. As we walked around the back side of the square, we came upon a table full of candies for sale. There was more candy than a perosn could imagine on this table. I was dying to try some, but I knew that I could not make up my mind and that I would eat all of what I bought. We passed by a small restaurant and saw part of the Michigan group enjoying their beers and having a great time. There was a small ice cream store next to where they were sitting so we walked in there to buy Luann her ice cream. She licked her ice cream all the way back to the hotel and she looked so peaceful that I had to wonder how she kept those daggers so well hidden all the time. We got back to the hotel and went to the room. I watched CNN and Luann read until it was time to go and meet the others. Luann had informed me that we were going to surprise Sharon. Today was her birthday and Bonnie had bought a chocolate cake at the first chocolate store we had visited. We didn't want to be late. How many times had I heard that?

We took the steps down and outside the lobby we were met with the first signs of evening. The produce stand was gone and the square was not nearly as busy as it had been an hour before. The sun was starting to go low and I wondered if I was dressed warm enough. The group was already seated at the corner restaurant bar, which adjoined the hotel, making it look like it was attached. A round of drinks had already been ordered and it looked like Bob had a bottle of champagne and some plastic glasses. I could see the bag Bonnie had, which had the cake. The waiter came up and Doyle ordered some appetizers to go with the drinks that had been ordered. The plan was to have a drink here and then go to another restaurant for dinner. I determined that it was going to get chilly and I needed my sweatshirt or jacket. Luann needed her sweater, so I left the group and headed back to the room for our stuff. I was gone a few minutes and returned to find the group eating the brosciutto, ham and the chips that had been brought out. The champagne had already been poured, which to my shock, had not been poured for me. I love champagne as much as anyone. There were plenty of appetizers and it seemed that nobody wanted any. They tasted fine, other than the corn chips which were a little flat. The attention went to Sharon as she was given her cake and she acknowledged everyone for their thoughtfulness. She dropped her eyes and smiled, really at a loss for words. I think she was very surprised. We sang happy birthday to her and raised our glasses to her. I stole somebody's champagne for the occasion. It was a preety neat sight. It was at this time that Raggedy Anne and Andy walked by. He had been wanting to purchase a bottle of Limoncello, the Italian after dinner drink we had had on our first night in Stresa. He beamed a big smile as he headed back to the hotel with the yellow concoction in a bottle shaped like a violin. He showed us the bottle and I knew there was no way that bottle was going to make it back to Michigan. He had already made plans to buy another one. The Michigan group that Luann and I had seen outside the ice cream store was now beginning to break up and go their separate ways to dinner. It was hard to believe it had only been an hour or so since we had seen them. We paid the bill and the group from Iowa plus two was now going to look for a restaurant. Tourist season was over,so our choices were limited. Also, we had a big group and the dining rooms looked full. We decided on the pizza place that Doyle and Cindy had eaten at, but was closed when Luann and I tried to eat there. The place was packed, but the outside seating was completely deserted. I asked the young couple at the counter if we could eat outside and the older lady behind them nodded and smiled with pleasure that she could actually get a group this size to eat outside. I quickly walked out and informed the group that we could eat outside. The young waiter and waitress quickly started making one long table out of the numerous small tables that were sitting empty. We all took a seat (the chairs were the small plastic patio chairs with the rounded, latted back support) and sat down. The night was cool, but not cold. The company was perfect.

The waiter's name was Alex and he could have passed for an American. His English was not that good, but he looked like any young eighteen year old that would serve us back home. I sat at one end of the table, so he came to me to inquire as to what I wanted the group to have. I had to have him speak slowly so I could understand him. When he figured out we were all Americans, he quickly went inside to get the young lady back to help him. She started at one end of the table and he the other, until they had gotten everyone's order. Luann and I shared a margarita pizza because we couldn't decide how hungry we were or what else we wanted. The menu was not in English, so it took a little time for us to get the right food ordered. We ordered bottles of wine and beer and waited patiently for our dinner. Doyle received a phone call and had to take the call away from the table. He sat there patiently talking to someone, while the rest of us teased him and laughed at his plight. We laughed and talked until the first plates started to arrive at the table. Doyle finished his cell phone conversation and rejoined us. The only issue we faced was that of timing. For some reason, Bob had not received his dinner. He had ordered spaghetti, which seemed like it would be very simple. However, as the rest of us ate, he sat there waiting. The waiter would nod, poke his head inside the restaurant and then come back out. Bob still would not get his food. Also, Anne had ordered fish and received a plate of beef. She had graciously tasted it and said that she would take it so as not to cause the restaurant a problem. Anne knows the restauarnt business and knows what a hassle that is. Bob finally got his spaghetti as the rest of us finished our meals and all was well, until Anne was handed her original order. She had me inform the waiter that one entree was enough and that she really didn't want another plate full of food. We laughed about this as Sharon's cake was cut and passed around to the group. It was hard to get too mad at people here. We all finished our meal and the separate checks were distributed. Annes check was not right, so I went in preparing for battle. I talked to the young lady and she referred me to the jovial older lady, that was not too jovial by now. The numbers simply did not add up. She called the young lady and they both told me the numbers were right. I re-added them numerous times and found out that the girl's six's were actually four's. The jovial lady became jovial again when she saw me turn purple with embarassement and the young lady gave me a nice smile when she knew that her penmanship had caused an argument and she had won. Italians love to argue. I had to go back to the group and get their opinion on this. We sat at the table and said hi the Michigan people as they walked past us coming from various restaurants. We even found out that some had eaten inside our restaurant. It was getting close to 10:00 PM and we needed to head back.

We left the restaurant and headed for the hotel. A few of us stopped at the bar next to the hotel where we had started our evening festivities and had one glass of wine or beer before retiring to our rooms. We watched as the bartender made martinis for customers. It was their specialty here. Our night ended shortly thereafter with a walk up the steps to the fourth floor and bed. Tomorrow we were going to Milan.