Day 4--Bergamo

Here we go again! I awoke from a deep sleep just like the night before. I had no idea what was going on with me, but here I was, in the same position I was in the night before. We had no clock in the room and Luann's cell phone was in another room being charged and I had no idea what time it was. We set a wake up call for 6:30 AM, so I knew it was earlier than 6:30 because we had not been called yet, but that's all I knew. To make matters a little more complicated, the room arrangement had changed. On our first night, Luann and I had a king size bed, so we thought. They were actually two twin beds, with the bed spread over them, making them look like one big bed. It fooled me. Last night, the beds were separated and I was in my own bed and Luann in hers. How crazy was that? I thought of poor Pat and Sharon who also had twin beds, but Sharon's was stuck in the closet, while Pat's was in the center of the room. Sharon called it a Murphy bed. I had never heard that term before. I had not closed the heavy blinds last night because I didn't want to pull any muscles and I wanted to make sure I could see in case I woke up in the middle of the night. Waking up at this moment, I couldn't understand how wide awake I felt. I made a vow that I would not get up and walk around the room again, but that I would lay there and sleep. I tried real hard and managed to doze off.

The chirping of the phone woke me up. Without my hearing aids in , it was feint, but I could hear it. The phones here don't ring, they chirp. Everything here chirps. I was real sleepy now and cautiously opened my eyes a little. I was laying on my stomach and I had to make sure Luann didn't see that I was even close to being awake. She would have hit me with the line she uses to make me move. "We better get up, because we don't want to be late." I hate that line. Luann didn't even look over to my bed. She mumbled something to who ever called and laid her head back on the pillow and stared at the ceiling. She was probably saying a prayer to have me wake up in a positive mood, not the normal negative mood she is so accustomed to seeing in the morning. I chuckled to myself when I thought how I must really make her life challenging. I was drifting back into sleep when that little voice in my head tried to tell me something. I didn't listen to it last night at the reception desk and I didn't listen to it now. I knew Luann was awake and I would be getting the line in a few minutes. We had plenty of time and I was sleepy. I heard the little voice laugh a little as it went back into my subconscious.

I did not have my hearing aids in, but I heard it loud and clear. The knock on the door. It reminded me of the knock on the door when Dorothy, the lion, the scarecrow and the tin man arrived at Oz and they had to use the big knocker on that huge door. The sound resonated all through Oz, just like this knock was resonating all through the room. Luann jumped out of bed and I thought she had reached the door in one giant leap. I, on the other hand, could not understand what had happened. Luann asked who it was and a faint voice on the other side of the door asked, "Are you guys coming?" Luann's frantic look told the whole story as she replied, "We'll be right there." WE HAD OVERSLEPT. That's what the little voice was trying to tell me. The wake up call was too early. Oh man, we were in for it now. Luann brushed her teeth, as she tried to get her pajamas off and a sweater on. I couldn't move because I was frozen with the fear of climbing on that bus and all those people looking at us. Also, my blood in the morning is not much thicker than the frozen fuel lines on diesel trucks and I don't move very fast. Frantically, we both looked at at each other and I had an idea. I did not have any time to test the waters, but I softly, very unusual for me, suggested to Luann that we take the train and meet them in Bergamo. It took two seconds for her to reply. " You want me to go down and tell them we will meet them later?" I replied, "What do you think of that idea?" There was no reply from her as she bolted for the door. This was going to be fun I said to myself, wondering where the train station could be. I was also wondering what the others would think when they learned we had taken a bottle of wine to our rooms before bed. They would never believe we only had one small glass each before bed. I looked at the almost full bottle and pondered the situation when I heard the door open.

Luann had returned, feeling much more at ease and she even mentioned that this was going to be a neat adventure for us. I was agreeing with her, wondering where the train station was. In the whole fracas of the morning, Luann had gotten her cell phone back, which now gave us a clock. After some quick calculations, we determined it was around 8:00AM. We showered, dressed and headed down to breakfast. We arrived to a fairly empty dining room, but once again, we were asked to sit with someone else. I could not figure out why we were never allowed to eat by ourselves. I softly mentioned this to Luann, which brought about the look that told me to knock off the complaining. We were escorted to a round table that could seat eight, but at the present moment, it had one person sitting there. The white table cloth and linen napkins were neatly in place as we sat down and met Bruce.

Bruce was from Michigan and was traveling with his girlfriend Nancy, who was one of the tour hosts for the Michigan group. He was sixty nine years old and had just retired. As we shared pastries, coffee and breakfast, we discussed our kids, careers, retirement and a whole set of worldly issues that did not mean a thing to anyone but us. Bruce had decided to skip today's tour because he was burned out with all the bus travel. Our explanation was that we wanted to travel by train. We didn't quite tell him that we had overslept. Bruce had no plans for the day, as he was just going to hang around Stresa. This was our last day at this location and he had not had a lot of opportunities to see the town. The three of us finished breakfast and parted company in the small lobby. Bruce went up the short flight to the mezzanine to use the Internet and Luann and I went to the front desk to get directions to the train station.

It turned out the train station was a ten minute walk from the hotel, towards the back of the town. I did not get complete directions, but had a general idea of where to go. Hand in hand, Luann and I walked out the front door and headed towards the main street that ran parallel to the lake. We noticed that there were tents across the street that had not been there before. It appeared there was some sort of market going on. We turned left and headed past the hotels and inns. We stopped at a hedged in garden,where there were numerous oil paintings sitting on easels. We walked into the garden and were very impressed with the beauty of the setting and the talent being displayed. It looked like it was one artists personal show and he was busy talking to another on looker. We talked about the talent my daughter Erin has when it comes to art and creativity and I had to remark to Luann that she gets that talent from me. I could trace a stick figure with the best of them. We didn't stay long because it would be futile to figure out how to get a painting home and we had a mission far more important than paintings.

We walked down the busy sidewalk and saw the sign post for the station. We took another left turn and found ourselves walking uphill to the municipal area of the downtown. Small sign posts with directions to various departments were on every corner. They also included a hand drawn picture of the department, in case the visitor could not read. It was a pleasant walk and we knew we were close when we saw the tracks above us. A couple of misdirected steps was all it took to make us decide to ask someone for directions. We saw an old couple walking down the driveway of their home towards us and the street. I asked them for directions to the station in Italian and they were eager to help. The nice lady began giving me lefts and rights in that beautiful language and I was doing fine until the older gentleman decided to get his heroics in. I stood there on a quiet, residential street watching fingers pointing in all different directions, hearing more lefts and rights than in a boxing match and finally walking away. Luann asked me if I knew where we were supposed to go and I replied, "Of course."

To this day, I cannot understand where those old people were telling me to go. The station turned out to be right behind their house, not more than two blocks from where we were at. As we walked up a small inclined street, we could see the station. It was a long brick building, with taxis parked along the narrow street waiting for the inbound passengers. The station was divided into three parts. The center of the station served as the main ticketing area, while one end hosted a small shop for buying newspapers, magazines and tobacco and the other end was a restaurant and bar area. We walked into the main area and immediately noticed that there were no ticket offices open. It was Sunday. There were two monitors detailing the inbound and outbound trains but no one available to help up us.

We knew from our past travel here that Milan was the center hub for train travel. A quick look at the departures showed us there were two trains going to Milan. One was going to Milano Centrale, the largest train station in Europe, while the other was going to Milano Garibaldi. The Garibaldi train was due to depart from here at 10:23 AM, while the Centrale train was departing at 12:30 PM. If we wanted to catch the group, we needed to get to Bergamo by 2:00 PM so we decided to take the earlier train to Milano Garibaldi. There was no one working in the ticket office, however, there were machines that looked like self ticketing kiosks. We tried our luck with the machines, but I had forgotten my reading glasses and could not see the small print. Luann could not read Italian and we didn't have time to have her spell things to me and me trying to translate them. We gave up after a couple of futile attempts. . The train was due in about fifteen minutes so we rushed out the main doors to the tracks, to see if we could get some help.

We immediately caught the attention of very person waiting for trains. It wasn't that we were causing a scene. It was just that we were trying to act real cool and we stuck out like sore thumbs. We would smile, walk real fast and try to open doors, while talking English to each other. The doors we tried were all locked. On Sunday morning, most of the people waiting were locals and they could not help but smile as we continued our futile attempt. I finally saw the group of engineers sitting in the engineer's office. There were four young men, dressed in their tan uniforms with the Trenitalia embroidered above their right pocket. I asked them if any of them could speak English. All four replied in unison that they could not. I had no choice but to get myself into an Italian dialogue with them. I did my typical Italian impersonation (little Italian, some Spanish and a lot of pig Latin). I was in a hurry, so my languages got all messed up, but I was able to find out that the Garibaldi train would work to get to Bergamo and that we could get a ticket inside. We were directed to the newspaper stand, where a machine would let us purchase a ticket. We rushed to the newspaper stand, but found no machine. We ran back into the main lobby and found ourselves looking at the same machines we had seen not more than fifteen minutes ago. We were helpless as the train pulled in. We had to get on, so we did. As people watched, we flew out of the main lobby back to the outside waiting area and headed for the train. I asked the engineer, as the train pulled away, if they sold tickets on board. He smiled and nodded. I don't know if he smiled because they didn't or if he smiled because these two cool, experienced travelers looked like they had never been on a train. We were off and running exactly at 10:23 AM.

We jumped onto the train and sat down in the first seats available. We faced each other sharing a valuable window seat. We had also picked the side of the train that would give us a better view of the scenery as we worked our way towards Milan. I had observed a young man waving a 5 Euro bill to the engineer I had talked to, which gave me a more confident feeling that we would be able to buy a ticket on the train. The young man got into the same car we were in, as we started pulling out of the station. It was a bright, sunny Sunday morning and we were the only ones in the car. The train we were on was considered a regional train, which is much different than the Eurostar or inter country trains. This train would stop at many small towns along the way, picking up and dropping passengers. We sat back and enjoyed the ride, observing the different vegetation Northern Italy has to offer. We saw a number of small towns, winding rivers and streams and even got a good view of the lake as we headed inland. On the third stop, a small town call Argona, the young man that got on with us made his departure. As he walked past us, I asked him how far to Milano. The look he gave us made me think that we may have gotten on the wrong train, however, that thought was quickly replaced when he laughed and told us Milan was a long way away. The way he replied and smiled made me wonder what we had gotten ourselves into. I also noticed that he had never had to give anyone the 5 Euro bill he had shown back at the station. We had not gone very far, but I thought we should have seen a conductor by now.

Our conductor showed his face thirty minutes later. As Luann and I continued to marvel at the scenery, the far door leading into the car slid back, with a gust of air, and our conductor strutted in. He was thin, about 5'9", with a sharp nose and wire rimmed glasses hanging on a chain around his neck. He was dressed in the green uniform of the Trenitalia company, with matching tie, belt and hat. He looked just like the conductor on the Polar Bear Express movie only in green. His route guide was as thick as a New York City phone book and he had his puncher out and ready to punch tickets. He also had a big wallet attached to a chain leading into his pocket. He had his ticket punch out as he stood in front of us, waiting for the ticket. He had a pleasant smile and blue eyes that smiled in sync with his mouth. The poor guy had no idea at that moment that his easy, slow, uneventful Sunday was now going to have its first challenge. He saw me smile up at him and wish him good morning in Italian and then ask him if he spoke English. His head dropped as he said no. I then asked him if he spoke Spanish. His head turned and dropped as he said no. I wanted to ask him if he spoke pig Latin, but Luann wouldn't like that so I didn't. I told him in imitation Italian that we didn't have a ticket and we needed to buy one. He was so soft spoken I could hardly hear him. I could not make out if he was asking me where we were going, where we got on, or if we were having a nice time. I just sat there with a dumb smile on my face nodding. That's what I do when I can't hear someone. I just nod. The poor guy took his New York phone book, ticket punch, put his glasses on, and sat in the seat across the aisle from us. I then mentioned Stresa, thinking he needed to know something about where we got on and then I mentioned Milano and he quickly figured out that we weren't here for a free ride. Licking his fingers, he began paging through the million pages he must have had in that huge route guide. To make matters worse, we had now stopped at a town and were picking up a lot of passengers. He kept looking at the ones getting off and wondering to himself how many he was not able to get tickets punched for, or worse, had gotten a free ride. I could have told him about the young man, but I didn't. At this stop, the train was getting fuller and anyone coming into this car had to get their ticket punched as they walked by our conductor. Luann and I sat there as the conductor got on his cell phone and kept calling. He was getting more animated as he talked, but whatever he was asking was not getting answered. He kept pouring through the book for a rate. He now took another small book out and looked at it, but still could not find a rate. I should have just sat there quietly, but I didn't. I mentioned to Luann that maybe he was going to give us some exorbant rate and rip us off in the process, which resulted in a scolding on my not being able to trust people and always being negative. Another poorly timed comment. The poor guy was still at it when I mentioned to him in imitation Italian that the day before, we had been given a rate of 9 euoros from Cuomo to Stresa. He quickly took the ticket pad that he carried underneath his route guide and wrote us a ticket for 9 euros. I gave him a 10 euro bill and got my change. He said thanks and I apologized the best I could for having screwed up his easy Sunday. We saw him one station later walking off the train heading for the station.

At 12.30 PM we arrived at the Milano Garibaldi train station. It was not as I expected. The station was a nice modern facility, unlike the Milano Centrale station. There were approximately eleven tracks situated in an open area under a large canopy. Though there were people getting off and on trains it was nowhere as busy or congested as Centrale. As we walked off the train and walked along the platform to the terminal, we began our search for the next train that would take us to Bergamo. We saw the monitors identifying cities like: Roma, Genova, Firenza, etc., but no Bergamo. Luann looked at the paper schedules taped to the large posts in the middle of the platforms, but there were so many cities to look at, it was like searching for Waldo.

We had no choice but to find a ticket office and ask for help. I knew they would talk English here. The ticket office was around the corner, just as we walked into the main concourse from the train platforms. We went to the second window because it was available and asked the short chubby man if he spoke English. He said no and pointed to the next window, which was the only other manned window. There were three people in line there and we didn't have time to wait. I had to do my imitation Italian routine with him and to my surprise, he understood. He quickly printed off two tickets and gave them to me. He pointed to the ticket to explain to me that we had to go Luscano and Bergamo would be one of the stops. I just nodded, kind of understanding what I could hear. Departure time was 1:10, so we had forty minutes to kill. A quick look at the departure monitors and posted schedules confirmed that we were on the right track.

The train station had three floors and we had arrived on the ground floor. We could see taxis out the front double pane glass doors. We took the steps down to the lower level because the escalators weren't moving. We acted like we were curious as to what the station looked like, but truthfully, we were looking for the bathrooms. A quick reconasance told us that down here there were vending machines, storage rooms, but no restaurants or bathrooms. We walked back up the stairs and looked around the main floor. There was a convenience store, some shops, the ticket counter and more vending machines. We walked out to the train platforms and still could not find a bathroom on this floor. We found a sign identifying the bathrooms as being downstairs. We went down the stairs again and rewalked the same passageways that we had just walked a few minutes before. We found nothing. We went back up the stairs to the main floor and then up the the top floor, which had nothing but offices. It was not desperate yet, but it was getting close. We stopped and asked a young lady where the bathrooms were and she pointed downstairs and we looked at her in disbelief. We told her we had been there twice to no avail. She bent over the railing and pointed to a section around the corner, opposite of where everything was located. As we headed for the stairs, we walked by the escalator and it turned on. The escalators were on motion sensors and we thought they were broke. We felt pretty stupid then. Down we went, took a right at the bottom of the escalator and then saw the welcome sign for the bathrooms. We had burned more than half of our forty minute layover.

Refreshed, we were now ready to head for the train. We took the escalator back to the main floor and went to find the track, which should have our train sitting on it. No such luck. As we walked the width of the platfrom we kept coming up missing one track, ours. We wondered if they had made a mistake, if we were in the twilight zone or if we had just screwed up. Our track was not there. We ran down the steps looking for the track in the same places we originally looked for the bathrooms; No track. This was ridiculous, a word that I use constantly. We were going to miss our train. Then Luann spotted it on the way back up the stairs, escalators were too slow. There was another set of tracks on the other side of a wall across from where the bathrooms were. The sign was small, hanging from the cement rafter and how she saw it was beyond me. We ran up a small four step set of stairs and there was the train on the track,with the conductor standing on the platform. We approached him and he confirmed that this was our train. He also informed us that we needed to transfer once more, in a small town called belazo, which was five stops away. We would not have know that if we hadn't talked to him. He also said we needed to validate the ticket quickly because we were leaving. He told us to go back down the small stairs and use a yellow machine located at the bottom of the steps. We ran down the stairs and put the ticket in; Nothing. We turned the ticket upside down; Nothing. This was really getting annoying. I left Luann standing there and ran back up to the conductor. I interrupted his conversation with a young man and tried to explain to him that the machine didn't work. The young Italian said he would help us and we took off together. He took our ticket, stuck it in the machine and it worked. We thanked him and back we went to board. Luann and I looked at each other in disbelief wondering if we had gotten this way because of something we had eaten. We boarded the train, wrong car of course. We had second class seats, not first class. I started wondering if the conductor had known what the word junk meant when I used it to describe the yellow validating machine. I do know what idiota means when he was probably describing me. I thought a lot about this as we pulled out of Milano Garibaldi. At least we had not missed the train.

We spent the next ten minutes counting stops. It's amazing that we didn't miscount, but it wasn't long before we stopped at a small Italian town in the middle of nowwhere. We were supposed to catch our train to Bergamo, so we quickly got off the train and headed for the station to check and see how much time we had before departure. It was 1:20PM and we had not eaten. We disembarked across from the station and had to go down a tunnel that crossed underneath the tracks and then went up, similar to the entrances used at stadiums to separate sections. As we walked to the station, Luann noticed a small restaurant/bar right next to it. It looked closed to me, but I didn't say anything for fear of the possible scolding I would get for being negative. We walked in and looked at the monitors, all two of them, and noticed that our train would be leaving in about ten minutes. We would depart from track three, wherever that was. As we walked out of the station to look for the track, the PA system crackled and began making announcements on various inbound and outbound trains. It sounded pretty standard. The little voice I had heard the last couple of days popped up again, but I quickly dismissed it. We needed to find the track because we didn't have much time. It looked like any chance to get a bite to eat was out of the question. We walked back down the entrance of the tunnel and walked underneath to the other end of the platforms to look for track three. The tracks were marked with navy blue metallic signs above the respective sections. Normally the tracks are in pairs, but not here. Tracks one and two were paired up, but the other tracks were by themselves. There were a total of five tracks. It took us a couple of walks up the wrong sections to realize that we were having trouble understanding the track layout. On the second pass, the PA system cracked and the announcements came again. This time I heard three key Italian words imbedded in the announcement; Bergamo, tre, quattro (Bergamo, three, four). I looked at Luann in horror and told her, "I think they changed the track!" We ran up the entrance to track three, amid a group of waiting passenger, in a sweat. A man in his early fortys stood there patiently waiting for a train. I asked him if his train went to Bergamo. He looked at me with a blank face. I mentioned in Italian, "Bergamo, treno". He didn't smile and he didn't talk. He just pointed behind us to a lone track that had a train starting to pull out, smoke coming from the engine. The train had been sitting there since we arrived and was now pulling out of the station. The experienced travelers that we were had now had missed the train to Bergamo and now we didn't know if this was the only train, or worse yet, if there was a way back to Stresa. I was attacked by a myriad of worst case scenarios within two seconds. I confirmed again, with my non-speaking Italian friend, that we had actually missed the train. He confrimed it with a nod of his head and said something I couldn't understand. I did what comes naturally to me. I kicked the platform with my right foot in disgust. Luann quickly accused me of trying to kick a fifty yard field goal, soccer style, at the fleeing train. The devil took over my tongue for a few short seconds and then all was eerily quiet as Luann and I absorbed the moment.

The most optimistic and positive person I have ever met is my mom, Alicia. A very close second is Luann. The most pessimistic person I have ever met was my dad, Ricky. A close second is me. I knew now that it would be impossible to meet up with the tour group. After my missed field goal attempt and the ensuing penalty scolding, Luann cheered up and said, "Don't forget that we are having a new adventure today. We need to stay positive." I couldn't reply to that. As we walked back to the station, she talked about having a beer and a sandwich at the station restaurant/bar. This time I responded that it was closed. I didn't care if it sounded negative. I was screaming at myself for having not paid attention to the intercom. A four year old Italian child would have picked up on the track change. We entered the station and to our relief the next train for Bergamo was due in at 2:15 PM. We had forty five minutes to kill.

We walked back out of the station, past the closed bar and headed out to the street. There were a few cars parked in front of the station, but for the most part, nothing else stirred in this town. Every shop, apartment building, office and garage had large gates over their front entrances. The gates were the ugly, gray, corrugated metal type that served as a graffiti artists favorite canvas. The streets were deserted and every gate was covered with more graffiti than I had ever seen in one place. I felt like I was on the set of the old movie "Escape from New York" starring Kurt Russell. I was a little nervous. We walked down the main street and saw some young people hanging around a store blocks ahead. We stopped and went back to the station. We went in and checked the monitors and walked back out to the street. We decided to go right this time and saw there was nothing open that way either. We were hungry and totally alone here. Other than a few people coming and going from the station, there was no one around. We went back to the station, walked around the small waiting area and then walked back out to the main street. It was time to put our fears behind us and walk towards the only sign of life we had seen. We headed for the place where we had seen the youths.

The walk down the main street was uneventful. Other than a fellow traveler asking me for directions in a language I couldn't understand, we did not see anyone until we arrived at the small store. It was a pizzeria. There were two young Italian men making pizzas. One looked like the owner instructing the younger of the two on how to make a pizza. The place was not very big, but it was very clean. A small cooler sat in the corner and offered a variety of soft drinks and small cans of beer. I immediately got two of the peroni beers and we walked up the counter, which served as the make table and supported the cash register. I told the proprietor that we had about a half hour to catch a train and he assured me that we had plenty of time to eat. Luann and I sat in the two chairs that served as a waiting area for pickup orders in front of the large plate glass window and opened our beers, finally relaxing. Our pizza arrived about ten minutes later. It was delicious. We wondered why American pizza took so long to make and hypothesized that it had to do with the thicker crusts we use here. We ate our pizza and drank our beer as if we hadn't eaten in days. I got two more beers out of the cooler, paid our 9 euro bill and headed back to the station. We arrived ten minutes ahead of our departure and moments before the train. We boarded immediately and watched as a group of youths sparred with each other, danced and smoked cigarettes outside our car window. I wondered if these kids were responsible for any of the graffiti all over this town. I was glad when the train started moving. Finally, after four hours, we were finally heading for our destination. We could see the light at the end of the tunnel.

The final leg to Bergamo took less than half an hour. The train stopped at approximately 3:40 PM and we followed the crowd along the platform to the station. The station was packed with people. We followed the crowd into the main concourse area and quickly checked monitors to see how long we could stay here. The monitors did not help us, but the posted paper schedules showed us that we could get back to Stresa, through Milan, on a Eurostar train that went to Geneva Switzerland. We waited in line and found an agent that said he could speak a little English. His English was excellent. We had a choice of leaving at 4:45 PM, which only gave us a little over an hour, or we could leave around 6:00 PM. We chose the later train. We knew the chances of meeting the group here was minimal. We were also scheduled to have a group dinner at the hotel at 7:30PM and we were not sure we would be able to make it. We purchased our tickets and walked out of the station into the beautiful city of Bergamo.

The cloudless blue sky greeted us as we stepped onto the busy sidewalk leading up to the downtown area. This city was by far the biggest city we had been in since we arrived. There were no narrow streets, but wide boulevards and sidewalks. We could see the old city, miles ahead of us on the hill tops. That was where our group was, touring the castle and vineyard. Down here all we could see were modern shops, large banks, insurance companies and restaurants. The buses, cabs, cars, scooters and bicycles made this town very similar to our largest big cities. It was Sunday and this town was busy. It didn't take long to find out why. Five long blocks from the station, we were treated to a street fest. Streets were blocked off and countless tents were set up selling candy, meats, cheeses, crafts, leather and everything imaginable. The tents were identified as being from Holland, Germany, Italy, Switzerland and a host of other countries. It was an international bazaar of some kind. People were elbow to elbow. We had just finished our pizza, so we weren't hungry. It was so crowded that it became uncomfortable so we walked out and headed away from the bazzar. The architecture here is indescribable, mostly gothic. We walked through an indoor mall that looked like an official building and walked righ into an art exhibit. We were handed a manual describing the exhibits and allowed to walk around and view them. I expected to be charged an admission fee, but no one ever approached us. The exhibits were displayed around the courtyard, which was in the middle of this mall. A grassy area in the center gave this courtyard a warm, serene atmoshpere. The stone walls offered us imbedded paintings that had to date back hundreds of years. This had to have been a monsastery or church at some point in time. We marveled at the art and building.

We left that building and walked back into the downtown streets, away from the main bazaar area. There were tents on this side, but nothing like the area we had left. We wanted to sit at one of the many outdoor restaurants, have a glass of wine, enjoy the weather and watch all the people walking by. Every place we stopped at was so busy we could not get any one to wait on us. We had now burned up a lot of our time, so we had to start making our way back to the station. A mistake here could cause us a real problem if we couldn't get back to Stresa tonight. A few blocks from the station we found a place to have a glass of wine. The outdoor seating area was full, so we took a seat by the open door facing the sidewalk. I went up to the bar and got our wine. We watched as people would walk in, belly up to the bar and quickly down an espresso in one swallow and then leave. One small glass of wine was all we had time for before we had to go back to the station to catch our train. As always the train was on time and we boarded immediately, not leaving anything to chance.

The train we were on now was a regional train going to Milano Centrale. In Milan we would board the intercountry train to Geneva, which stopped in Stresa. It took us approximately half an hour to get to Milan from Bergamo, which made me feel even worse about missing the train earlier. As we pulled into the station, the familiarity of the station set in. It is huge. The trains arrive and depart from a cavernous facility covered with a large half-moon metal canopy. The covered canopy area is hundreds of yards long and it is as wide as it is long. There are hundred of birds flying in and around the thousands of passengers reading schedules, watching the overhead electronic train/track schedules and just waiting for trains. Inside the main concourse there are a number of stores, shops, banks and information stations. Ticket counters are downstairs where the numerous subways drop off and pick up passengers. There are more shops and offices. You could probably hear every language in the world as you walk through this station. The inside walls are all composed of yellowish blocks, which remind me of the old high schools gyms, before drywall became the standard. There is a constant whistle of a train and the chime of the bell as announcements come quickly and repeatedly. Eight years ago, we stood in this station and I was always nervous. This evening we stand here and I am thrilled. The bustle, noise, smells and the ambience are energizing and exciting. This is travel at its best.

A quick look at the schedules showed us that we had almost an hour to wait. We found the track and then went to the convenience store located in the platform area. It took us a while, but we purchased a large loaf of bread, they have the best bread over here, and Luann found small containers of wine in boxes. They were identical to the fruit juice boxes that our grandson Brenton drinks back home. We purchased four wine boxes and a small sleeve of plastic glasses at the check out counter and made our way back to the track area. We were curious how the wine would taste, but not overly optimistic that it would be the best we had ever had. We patiently waited for the train, which arrived a short time later and boarded. The best travel experience I ever had was when we were here eight years ago and we would take a bottle of wine, some cheese and bread and travel by train. Looking out the window at the passing scenery, sipping on wine and eating was as relaxing as it could get. We both loved it. As was the case tonight, our train pulled out of Milano Centrale around 7:15 PM. We had already decided that dinner with the group was out, as it would be in full throttle by the time we arrived. The train pulled out on schedule and we opened up one of our wine boxes and the bread. We ate bread and sipped on wine as other passengers read their newspapers, slept or just sat there. Not a soul looked in our direction. Within forty five minutes we arrived back in Stresa under a cover of darkness. The restaurant/bar that had been closed ten hours earlier was now open and busy. The main area was congested with people and Luann and I walled off the train carrying our unopened small boxes of wine, bread we didn't eat and the last of the plastic cups. The evening was warm and we walked down the small hill, hand in hand, to the lakefront for the short ten minute walk to the hotel. The lake front was all lit up and it was a pretty spectacle to look at all the way back.

It was now a little past 8:00 PM as we entered the hotel. We knew the group was in the dining room eating so we went upstairs to put away our things and go out and enjoy our last evening in Stresa. We walked out of the hotel and headed up the street to the plaza, where all the restaurants were. Since their season was winding down, many of the places were closed. We decided on the place called Amiches (friends), which had been our choice last night with the group, but was too busy to seat us last night. Luann and I sat outside, under the radiant heaters and enjoyed a wonderful seafood dinner, with wine bread and great service. We did not see any of our fellow travelers, but knew that everyone would be wondering what had happened to us. We finished our meal and took the long way back to the hotel, getting our last glimpse of the small shops (now closed), the cobblestone streets and the beauty of the lake at night. It is always sad having to leave beauty.

We arrived back at the hotel and saw that dinner was just getting over. We walked into the dining room and were greeted by Pat, Sharon, Doyle, Cindy, Bob and Bonnie, sitting at a round table with two empty wine bottles. Dinner, we were told, had been excellent. Amid the confusion with the waiter about the wine purchases, we started to recant each other's adventures on the last day in Stresa. We decided to head to the bar and continue our discussion because the dining room was closing up. In the hotel bar, we were informed that tomorrow we would leave at 7:30 AM for Cinque Terra , a beautiful resort area. We would spend the day there, then arrive at our final tour city of Cremona late afternoon. Melissa had told everyone on the bus that it would be cold there, so dress warmly. I questioned that because the forecast had been for warm weather in that particular area. The comment dropped as the conversation turned to Luann and I. We had to deftly explain how we had overslept and why. It turned out that when Luann received the wake up call she had not hung up the receiver correctly and all other calls responded with a busy signal to the caller. They feared something had happened, so the knock on the door. We explained to the group there that we did not wear watches so we didn't have any idea what time it was. That comment got some teasing from the group. I kept bringing up the fact that we didn't drink that bottle of wine we bought before bed, but I don't know if they believed me. The conversation turned to the tour. Apparently, it had been an interesting day. The tour was very good. The castle was interesting and learning about the production of balasamic vinegrette was worth the day. Sharon bought a bottle of the high priced commodity. The tour was not without some drama, however. It turned out that we weren't the only ones late. One of the Michigan people, the guy chastised by his wife on the first night, was still in the shower when the bus was getting ready to leave. Also, at one of the restroom stops, one of the Michigan people had somehow ended up on the other side of the interstate after taking care of business. A frantic search found him standing on the other side of the rest stop after the bus had loaded. The driver had to figure out how to go get him. The funniest tour horror of them all was when one of the Michigan ladies tried to eat a sandwich on the bus and got caught. She was forced to eat the sandwich outside the bus, while the bus full of tourists waited. I guess that will teach her to break rule #1. It turned out to be Nancy, Bruces wife and one of the group leaders. I couldn't quit laughing. After a couple of rounds, it was time to go up to our rooms and pack. Our luggage had to be outside our room by 5:30 AM. Doyle and Cindy purchased a bottle of wine from the bar to take to their room. This move was totally encouraged by Luann and I. We made it back to the room where it took a few short minutes to throw our clothes in the bags and set them outside our door. Our bottle of wine still sat on the night stand with its small companion glasses alongside. It had been quite an adventerous day. We had shared very little of our experience with the group. I was glad we had missed the tour today, not because of the company, but because I don't think I could have sat quiet during the tour horror. We even heard that the bus driver had not filled up while the group was on tour while he had an empty bus. He decided to fill up on the way back, shortly after reboarding. They all had to stand outside the bus and wait. Our lights finally went out at 10:30 PM, by our calculations, and we went to sleep with visions of day five dancing in our heads.

Day 3/Lugano and Cuomo

The time differences between countries throughout the world has always fascinated me. Our group of twelve left Iowa at 11:30 AM On Thursday October 11, traveled across the Atlantic Ocean and now at 11:00 PM Friday, Luann and I were getting ready to enjoy our first night's sleep in Northern Italy. I like hotels and I have a routine before bed that I normally follow. I have to make sure I know how to run the TV and will turn it on and watch it for a while before I fall asleep. Even though we had been awake all those hours, I did not vary from my routine. As Luann read a little, I turned the television on and tried to watch it. Every channel, all fifteen of them, were in Italian. I tried to understand as much as I could, but it was futile. I also had another problem. The remote control for the set was so worn that I couldn't see where the volume and channel controls were. I had to keep getting up to adjust the controls manually. To make matters worse, the TV was nothing like I had ever seen. The power light would remain on when I shut it off, which made me fear that the TV could suddenly turn on at any time during the night. That would be a terrible thing for Luann as she is a light sleeper. Without my hearing aids in, I would sleep through it. I finally got the TV under control after a wasted half hour and I was ready for sleep. Luann was still reading when my head hit the pillow and I fell into a deep sleep.

I always like to think of myself as being real tough and things like jet lag don't bother me. I am now in a very deep sleep and I am having a dream related to my last business venture, when I suddenly wake up. It takes me a few seconds to realize that I am not in my own bed, but I can't figure out where I am. The room is black, not dark, but black. I can't see anything. I now remember that I am on vacation in Italy and this is my hotel room. I see the outline of the patio doors, which I now remember has a huge window blind made of thick plastic or soft rubber over the panes of glass. The draw strings were not string, but resembled the rubber straps that are used by flat bed semis to keep the tarps in place. Putting the blinds down was similar to a lat pull exercise I do on my Bow Flex machine. These blinds were amazing. There was absolutely no light coming into this room, let alone any noise. It was spooky. I looked around the room and could see nothing. I was now wishing I had left the power light on on the TV so I could see something. I new Luann was somewhere nearby, but I was afraid to put my hand across the bed. To make matters worse, I was wide awake and not sleepy anymore. I had no idea what time it was. We didn't have a clock in the room. I have never been in a situation in my life where I had absolutely no conception of time. Now it was time for the mind game.

As I laid there in bed, in a panic, I tried to figure out what time it was. I knew that I had slept soundly, so that meant I must have gotten at least six hours of sleep. It must be 5:00 AM. and could possibly be later. Then I would consider the fact that maybe I only took a one hour deep nap and the time was midnight or 1:00 AM. That thought really frightened me because we were going on tour at 8:30 AM and I would have a heck of time laying here for seven hours. I was delirious. Maybe I was still dreaming and asleep. No such luck. I lay there, fighting my imagination on what tomorrow would be like if I really had not slept. I frantically searched for some semblance of time in that room. I finally got the nerve to get out of bed. I had been afraid to get up earlier, for fear of waking Luann, but I was now desperate. I pulled back the blinds and took a peak. Nothing but darkness. We were surrounded by buildings and we were on the second floor, so if the sun was coming out, I wouldn't be able to see it any way. I looked at the street below me. Nothing, not a soul. It was Saturday morning, hopefully, and maybe people weren't out yet. I looked for a clock on the Church. Nothing. I closed the blinds and had to stay still until my eyes adjusted to the black room behind me. I sat on the bed and thought. Bathroom. I will work my way to the bathroom and maybe I will see something on Luann's night table that would help me. I had to move my hands along the bed as I walked towards the bathroom because I knew the desk/table combination nearby and I hated the thought of crashing into something. That would normally elicit a vulgar outcry and Luann doesn't like it when I use that kind of language, even though it does ease the pain. I made it past the closet, nothing on her night stand. Boy, this was really a nightmare. I made it this far, I may as well go to the bathroom and at least turn on the light. I closed the bathroom door, switched on the light, looked at the bidet on the floor and wondered if it was possible that this was a urinal. I looked at my face in the mirror and shuddered and to make matters worse, I didn't have to go. That meant, it must be earlier, not later. I must not have slept much. I left the bathroom depressed, shut the light off and worked my way back along the passageway back to my side of the bed. I still had not seen Luann in the darkness. I lay there for what seemed hours falling in and out of sleep until finally, I heard Luann get up. That was my signal that it was day time and we could get up now. I still could not see any light because of the blinds. It all seemed like a dream and I had slept some, though I had no idea how much or how little.

One of the advantages of tour groups is that many of your meals are included. This was no exception. Breakfast started at 7:00 AM and we were to board the bus for our first tour at 8:30. Luann and I showered and headed for the dining room. I still did not know what time it was. I mentioned this to Luann and she informed that she could look on her cell phone. Why didn't I think of that the night before? To make it even worse, she told me that she was awake the whole time I was fumbling around last night. I felt like a fool thinking about it. We had to use a quick mathematical calculation to arrive at the time. It was almost 8:00 AM. We had to take the time on the cell phone and add six hours to it. If we wanted to know what time it was back home, we had to subtract seven hours because the phone was on Eastern time. Luann and I don't wear watches so we rely on our cell phones for the time. She was trialing a new Blackberry for the company she works for and it had all the latest bells and whistles on it. I didn't tell her that I wasn't impressed that this latest technology tool couldn't give us the correct time. I couldn't afford to have her mad at me this early on the trip.

We were the last ones in the dining room and the waiter sat us at at a table with another couple. I wanted to sit somewhere else, but apparently it wasn't allowed. We sat with a couple from Michigan, Mary Jo and Fred. They were very nice people and I will admit, if it wasn't for Luann I would be clue less about how nice people are because half of the time I miss what they are saying about themselves. This was another one of those case. Mary Jo had to be one of the softest speaking people I have ever heard. Fred wasn't very loud either, but he didn't talk much. Mary Jo would say something and I would look over to Luann for my cue on whether I was supposed to reply or something. I played with my hearing aids, but I could hardly make out what she was saying. To complicate it, she had a mouth that barely moved and when it moved, it seemed like it wasn't in sync with the words. I thought I was watching one of those American movies, dubbed in Italian. I knew this breakfast conversation would be replayed for me on the bus so I quickly got up and headed for the food. Luann was lagging a little behind me as she was still being cordial with the Michigan couple.

Italian breakfast is a lot different than ours. They have the normal cereal and juices, but their breakfasts are loaded with bread, all you can eat. There are no scrambled or fried eggs, they have hard boiled eggs. There is a good variety of pastries and cakes, but there is no bacon. They have a cold cut meat tray with ham, other meats and cheese. The coffee at this location is served to us in small cups, not the big cups we are used to. It was healthy, no grease or fat. The bread had no preservatives, which made it light. I had more bread at this breakfast than I have back home in a month. We sat there enjoying our breakfast. I had a cheese sandwich, with a hard boiled egg, bread and butter rolls and coffee. Luann had the pastry, with ham and bread and coffee. As Mary Jo and Fred headed for the bus, Luann and I quickly ate the rest of our breakfast and went to join the others.

We climbed on board the bus, exchanged greetings with our fellow travelers and proceeded to climb into our seats. Luann took the aisle and I got the window. Pat and Sharon were across from us and had the premiere seats. Their seats were the first seats, on the left, as you enter the bus from the rear door, which is located in the middle of the bus. They had a rail that they could rest their arms on and the seats were deeper, which gave them more leg room. These seats will prove to be a point of controversy later in the trip. For now, we all sat and eagerly awaited for our rep to make her good morning speech and tell us what we were going to do today. It was the old people's pre-school field trip. All forty three fifty plus year olds listened while Melissa, I had just now learned her name, told us the rules. Rule #1: No food or drinks on the bus because it would not be fair to those on the bus that didn't have anything. Rule #2: Need to be on the bus when told because Collette Vacations had a tight time line with guides, schedules, etc. Rule #3. Today's trip was going to take three hours along the lake and into the mountains on our way to Switzerland. The view, she said, would be spectacular. However, once we got out of Stresa and started up the mountains, we would not be stopping for any service breaks (polite way of saying, NO BATHROOM STOPS). She even added some salt to the wound by telling us that she hoped we had prepared for this by taking care of those needs. Time for another mind game.

I have a serious mental condition when it comes to having to go to the bathroom. It stems from a childhood incident that happened to me at the age of four. It is a story that has been talked about in my family for decades and it will not be told here. My condition is this; If there is a bathroom available, I won't have to go very bad or very often. Tell me that there is no bathroom or make the bathroom hard to get to and I will have to go quickly and severely. I am now in a bus rumbling through narrow streets, passing by stores, gas stations and houses right and left on my way for a three hour trip with no bathroom break. I know my body. I have just eaten breakfast, drank coffee and juice. There is no way I will make it. Luann is upset with me a little because I have already made the reference that I don't like the little kid rules and don't like the tour rep and I have now started to pout. I am staring out the window imagining how I am going to address the situation when my body tells me it is time. How embarrassed will I be when I have to raise my hand and tell a young lady thirty years younger than me, in front of all these people, that I have to go real bad. What if there is no where to stop? Will I go on a hillside? Will I go knock on some body's door? Can I just get off the bus and head back to Stresa? All these thoughts are going through my head as we pass some of the most beautiful scenery in the world. Mountains on my left, the huge blue lake on my right. We are climbing up the narrow highway, sharing it with motorcycles, small cars, trucks, buses and an occasional bicycle. The day is perfectly clear and sunny and I am busy focusing on the clock at the front of the bus. I know that if I can get half of the three hours out of the way, I have a good chance of making it all the way. It is like the two minute drill in the NFL. I am counting down the time in fifteen minute intervals. The traffic is starting to get bad, as weekend travelers are heading to the resort towns along the lake. I am still pouting, upset that I did not take care of business, did not think of looking at the cell phone last night, could not figure the TV out and a waging whole bunch of self inflicting attacks on myself. Finally, it is half way, according to the clock on the bus, and we are at the Swiss border. As we stop, Melissa makes an announcement. I don't want to hear it. She surprises us by telling us that she needs to get the passport information (we did this last night) to the border patrol and we will be stopping for five minutes, no longer. There are bathrooms here if anyone needs to go. We cannot delay, however, see rule #2. No one moves. I don't have to go, but if someone gets up, I will force myself to go. No one moves. I am now convinced that I am on a bus with people that must take medication that keeps them from having to go. Melissa offers the bathrooms again. No one moves. I mutter something under my breath and Luann gives me the look. When I lost my hearing, she must have found it because she doesn't miss any negative comment I make. Her ears have to be bionic. No one is moving. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch one of the Michigan people getting up. Yes, someone is going to go. All of a sudden, it was like the recess bell had gone off. People were getting up and walking off. Most of them to have a cigarette break, others to look at the beautiful view and a few of us to go the bathroom. Though I didn't have to go, I went any way. A little insurance never hurts. We took ten minutes instead of five and happily boarded the bus without getting into any trouble. Life was good again.

The one thing different about this bus tour is that it is very quiet. There are not many announcements, not a lot of laughter and very little commotion. I start looking at the gorgeous scenery and really marvel at the beauty of this part of the world. The scenery here is probably not that different from the scenery in our country, but the fact the roads are so narrow and it seems like everything is packed so tightly makes it look a lot different. I occupied the rest of the trip to Lugano looking out the window and watching some of the people in the bus dozing off. Sharon would ask me on occasion what a billboard or shop sign meant. It was really fun being in a different country and at least knowing some of the language.

The bus started slowing down as we entered the outskirts of Lugano Switzerland. The traffic was pretty much bumper to bumper as we progressed through small towns. I started seeing some signs that we were in Switzerland, like billboards in Swedish. I felt pretty stupid when I thought there were a lot of first aid stations in this country, when actually they were buildings flying the Swedish flag. I'm glad I didn't mention this to anyone. Melissa came on the PA system and told us a little bit of what were seeing and some of the history. By her own admission, she did not have a lot of experience or knowledge about this tour. We all knew she didn't have a lot of experience with fifty year old plus preschoolers. We wound down the narrow street that turned into the main street in Lugano. I noticed a long, steep flight of steps as we entered the town and filed that away in my memory. I would like to know where those steps lead. The bus moved along pretty quickly, so we were all constantly looking at the sail boats and ships parked along the wharf and at the pretty architecture that made up the city of Lugano. It was yet another gorgeous city, full of bustle. I couldn't wait to get off the bus, walk around and have lunch at an outdoor cafe.

Our driver had to go around the narrow streets of the city to be able to drop us off at the fountain that seemed to be the entrance point to the town. The fountain was located in front of a huge square that was surrounded by shops, restaurants, cobblestone streets and people. Across from the fountain, separated by the main highway, was the wharf with a beautiful mountain back drop and large lake already busy with sail boats and pleasure boats. The day was perfectly clear and warm enough for a short sleeve shirt and shorts. I brought my sweatshirt just in case. I really brought it so I could show off to the ardent Notre Dame fans that I had a Notre Dame hooded sweatshirt that my son Ian had given me for Christmas. Man, was I cool. Prior to getting off the bus, we had to get our instructions. The time was 11:15 AM and we would have to be back and in the bus between 12:30 and 12:45 PM for our 1:00 PM departure to Lake Cuomo. We had a whole hour and a half to savor what the town of Lugano had to offer.

Luann and I got off the bus, trying to figure out what direction to go first. Pat and Sharon quickly joined us and the four of us started making our way to the square, which looked like the most logical place to start sight seeing. Andy, one of the ardent Notre Dame fans I had met last night, approached us to show me his Notre Dame shirt under his coat. He was pretty proud of it, but it didn't compare to my sweatshirt. I proceeded to tell him that I had shirt just like his back at the hotel, except that mine was green not blue. He never mentioned his wardrobe to me the rest of the trip. Andy is a very nice guy.

Pat, Sharon, Luann and I made our way into the square among the hundreds of people shopping, eating and just hanging out. We walked up narrow cobblestone streets looking into shop windows and stopping at an occasional fruit vendor stand. The grapes looked great, along with the rest of the fruit. We saw chocolate shops, bakeries, small bars, banks, jewelry stores and anything else you could imagine. It was late Saturday morning and the activity on these streets was probably not much different than back home. It was the architecture and the infrastructure that made this so much different. We followed one of the wider streets towards the part of the town we had come in from on the bus. The ladies had to use the restrooms, so we walked into a downtown store, which resembled a mall. I think Melissa had mentioned this to us on the bus as the place having the cleanest bathrooms. The one thing about Europe is that they really don't want people to use bathrooms. I arrive at this conclusion because they are all hidden. This store must have had five or six floors on it. The bathrooms are all the way on the top floor, in the back. Once we found them, we had to wait in line. Fortunately, it was not an issue for us but I couldn't help but think of the stress it would have caused, if I would have had to really go. This mall was big enough to support two or three bathrooms, not just one. We ran into Kenny and Shirley here, as they were needing the restrooms as well. While I waited for Luann, I walked over to the cafeteria on the same floor and saw that they sold horse meat sandwiches here. I offered to buy Kenny and Pat a sandwich, but they declined. The menu was in Italian and I knew the word for horse and they didn't. Years ago, I went on vacation with a good friend of mine and we teamed up with a couple of guys from Ohio, their names were Butch and Ollie. We were on the island of Guadeloupe in the West Indies at an outdoor beach bar and they sold horse meat burgers. The French, Italian and Spanish word for horse is very similar, but these guys didn't know any foreign language. All three of us ordered burgers and a beer at this place. When the waiter asked us in French if we wanted horse meat, they all looked at me. They must have thought I was a linguist extrodinare so I translated it for them. I told them the waiter wanted to know if they wanted everything on their burgers. The three of them quickly said yes. I declined. I don't know how they missed the condiments on the table. It took awhile, but lunch arrived and the three of us started eating. I could not quit laughing and they couldn't quit eating. It went like this until I finally asked them how their meal was. I had to tell them. Ollie turned a little green, chugged his beer and stopped. My buddy Dave and new friend Butch stopped, thought about it and finished the meal. I was sure I was going to catch them grazing on the straw thatch on top of the outdoor bar. We laughed about that the rest of the day, laying there in the sun. I couldn't pull it off with Kenny and Pat. I must have matured some since those days.

The four of us parted company with Kenny and Shirley and continued our walk. We started talking about lunch and eating somewhere when I noticed that we were close to the steep steps I had seen coming in. As we approched them, we saw they were very steep and led to a small building at the top. It had some historic significance and Luann said she wanted to walk up the steps. Pat walks back and forth to work every day (at least five mile round trip), Luann and I walk every day. I did not know about Sharon. She was a trooper and said she would walk, but would not go very fast since she has bad knees. The four of us walked up the steps and were rewarded with a gorgeous view of the city, the mountains and the lake and harbor. We could see for miles. I do not remember the historic significance to the building or the steps, but the walk was fruitful. We did not need to walk back down the steps because there was a city street that ran parallel to them. We walked down the residential street wondering what kind of rent payment or mortgage went with the property having this kind of view up here. The street took us back to the square. A quick look at Pat's watch showed us that we had enough time to grab a bite and then meet back at the bus. It was a little after noon. Time for a beer.

We settled on a busy outdoor restaurant at the far corner of the square. The restaurant was getting busier as we sat down and we waited for the waiter. We soon had menus in front of us and noticed that pizza was their specialty. Pat and I ordered a dark beer, which I was never able to find the rest of the trip, Luann a marguerita and Sharon a white wine, dry. Pat noticed that the pizzas were pretty big, so we decided that we would split a couple of them, which is customery back home. The waiter returned with our drinks and to take our order. To be safe, I asked him how big the pizzas were and he made a small circle with his two hands to indicate a serving much smaller than what we had seen as the actual size. Luann ordered a Margeurita pizza, which is tomato sauce and cheese. Sharon ordered one as well. The waiter asked me what I would like and I told him I would share Luann's pizza. He told me that the pizzas were not big enough to share and that I needed to have my own. I started getting a little annoyed with him and told him that I wasn't going to eat anything. He asked Pat and Pat responded the same way I did. He was going to share Sharon's pizza. The waiter was getting upset now and came over to Pat and I and took our napkins and forks, muttering under his breath that we weren't going to eat. The two pizzas came out a while later and they were big. They were equal in size to the large pizza back home. The four of us ate the two pizzas and could not understand why they would think that this was not sufficient. I noticed that the table next to us had a table of six people and each one had their own pizza, even the small six year old kids. The time was getting the best of us so we paid our bill to another waiter and got out of there. Our original waiter never came back to our table. I realized then that this must be the custom in Switzerland.

What followed later will live in my mind forever. We had been given instructions to be back at the bus between 12:30-12:45. The bus was to leave at 1:00PM for Cuomo. Luann had decided that if the bus left at 1:00, that was the time we needed to be back by. The rest of us thought the logic made absolute sense. As we made our way to the fountain and the bus, the clock on the wall behind the fountain read 12:58. We were on time. As we made our way to the bus, I had a strange sensation that all was not well. The bus was spewing smoke out of the exhaust like it had been running for hours. The bus was full of people. There were only four people not on the bus (us). At the front door of the bus was Melissa. She had changed drastically in that hour and a half. She had grown at least forty feet, her black hair had turned red, her two eyes had come together to form one big eye in the middle of her forehead, and I think her feet had become hooved. Boy, she looked mad and ready to devour us. Oh, Oh, we were going to get it. As we climbed back on, our heads were dropped because we realized that our fellow travelers had probably all been there since 12:30. While we were eating and enjoying the meal, the beverage and the weather, these people had been on the bus for half an hour sitting. I was a little embarrased. The only time I remember feeling this way was when Luann and I went to St. Lucia in the Caribbean with her brother Dennis and his wife Judy. We were at an all inclusive resort that provided watersport equipment, including sail boats. After a quick sailing tutorial, we got Luann and Judy to hop on the boat and we went sailing. The four us were merrily sailing along when we went around a small island and we lost the wind. None of us could figure out how to get back. We were only allowed to have the boat for an hour and rental place closed at 4:00. It was already 5:00 and we were just sitting there, not moving. It wasn't long before the motorboat from the resort showed up to pull us back to the resort. They made us get into the motor boat and the guy driving it was furious. We were not supposed to have gone this far, the lecturer told us. We think the resort must have announced it over their PA system that the Iowans who had stolen the boat from the rental place had been located and were being brought in to shore because the beach was filled with on lookers watching us get out of that motor boat. We had not said a word the whole way back and now we just looked at the sand as we got off the boat. We kept our heads down as we sprinted up the hill to our rooms, hoping nobody would recognize us at dinner. That's the way I felt as our bus jumped into gear and headed up the highway to return us to Italy and lake Cuomo.

It didn't take long for the microphone to get turned on. Here it comes. Melissa was now back to being 4'11" and 90 lbs. again. Her eyes had returned to normal and the deep monster voice had given way to her mild East Coast accent. She wanted to let us know that from now on, she would only be giving us a departure time as it was too confusing for people. In other words, because a small group of four violated rule #2 and got away with it, she was going to get serious with departure times. I looked at Luann and saw the glee in her face because Luann had told us at lunch that Melissa had screwed up by giving us the three time slots. Luann will never admit, but she likes it when she is right about things like that. I heard Luann and Sharon talking and they suspected that someone on the bus had complained about us being late. This bus was getting on my nerves.

As I watched the interstate fly by with traffic, I tried to figure out how to make the most of this bus tour. The time we were spending at these locations was not long enough for us to do the things we enjoy doing. We were going to have the same situation in Cuomo. An hour and a half was not enough time. The best memories I have of my last trip here, were with the train system. I had a great idea. I would venture to guess that we could stay in Cuomo as long as we wanted and catch a train back to Stresa. There was no group dinner tonight, so we didn't have anything to get back to. I couldn't wait to run this by Luann. One of the biggest challenges I have had with members of the opposite sex can be boiled down to one simple word, timing. I normally say the right thing at the wrong time or the wrong thing at the right time. I don't wait and test the environment, I just talk. This was another case of that happening. I turned to Luann and told her I had an idea. Right there, I had a problem. Idea and me are not synonymous with success, in Luann's mind, but I told her anyway. She must have thought that I told her my idea was to highjack the bus because of the look she gave me. I should have waited for another time to pop this on her because she apparently didn't want to hear it now.

After an hour ride, quiet ride I may add, we finally crossed the border and started our descent into Cuomo. The traffic going the opposite way was bumper to bumper and had even come to a standstill. It was backed up for miles, not one or two, but closer to ten. I dreaded going back this way, if indeed we had to return the way we came. On the other hand, we moved along nicely and could see the pretty town of Cuomo as we started down the hill. I wondered if it would be possible to find the hotel we stayed at eight years ago. The microphone chirped as Melissa got on for her travel tid bits. I just looked at the scenery. She told us that we would be going to a silk manufacturing plant on our first stop. I thought to myself that this might be interesting. I wanted to see the worms that excreted the stuff that became silk. I wanted to watch people run the looms that made it into fabric. I have heard of silk, but know nothing of how it is made. As we worked our way through the town, I could see a lot of familiar sights, but saw nothing of our old hotel. The bus finally stopped across the street from the silk factory and we all got out. This was the major thoroughfare going through Cuomo so the traffic was crazy. All forty three of us climbed off the bus and had to wait on the corner so we could go tour the silk factory as a group. If we didn't look like a bunch of little kids dressed in old people's bodies, I don't know what did. The light changed and we crossed.

The entrance to this place looked like an entrance to a department store or office building. We entered on the ground floor and went down a flight of stairs to the lower level. Outside the front doors were a series of small ponds that were filled with small rocks and not much more than six inches deep. I saw no purpose to these waterway. Inside the building, we were herded to a corner in the lower level where a nice young lady with a strong accent greeted us. I looked all around for any place that might be hiding the worms. I also thought that may be, there was another adjoining buiding where workers would be threading looms and making silk. In the corner, all forty three of us watched as the nice lady told us who she was and what she did. Where are the worms I thought? She did the unthinkable. She turned on a TV set and we are now watching a video. I have no idea what it was about, except that this was our tour. I had already lost Luann because she took off with Pat and Sharon walking around this huge floor. I never paid attention when we came in, but this place was similar to the clothing section at Walmart. There were scarfs, hankies, purses and all sorts of stuff made out of silk. There was no manufacturing here. This place was nothing more than a scarf mart. I quickly left the video and caught up with Luann. This was going to be a waste of time and money if she were to buy anything. I followed her for a little bit, thinking about my train idea, when I saw a group of the guys going upstairs. The bathrooms must be up there and who knows what else. Anything is better than where I am currently. As I climbed the stairs and went through a glass enclosed hall way, I ended up in a bar. There was a bar. It had food, tables, people and drinks just waiting for me. I ordered my glass of wine, paid dearly for it, and looked for Luann from the balcony overlooking the scarf mart. She finally saw me, but she didn't have time to share a glass of wine with me because we had to board the bus again. One of the nice ladies from Michigan, Nancy, kiddingly asked me if I had bought anything. I looked her straight in the eye and said, "Yes, but I drank it already." She liked that and laughed. I can be pretty clever sometimes.

Our last stop in Cuomo was in the old section. It was the part of Cuomo that I liked the best. There were large squares in this area, loaded with shops, restaurants and lots of people. Luann and I had spent a lot of hours in this section on our last trip and getting our bearings was not difficult. The lake was across the busy highway, outlined with a black, heavy four inch round guard rail around its circumference. The harbor with all the tour boats and fishing boats was busy with people. Directly behind us was the main square and some of the most narrow, cobblestone streets you will ever walk on. When a car drove by you could almost feel it brush your arm. Pat and Sharon met up with us and we headed for the big square. We were supposed to be back by 6:30PM, which gave us a little less than two hours. I had not given up on my train idea and decided to bring it up again. It was received favorably by everyone. It's all timing. As we walked around, I saw a street vendor and between the four of us, we came up with four euros in coin to buy some grapes. They looked great. Sharon and Pat were a little skeptical and wished they had some sanitizer, but I popped some in my mouth and told them it would be ok. They smiled and we walked around town eating grapes.

Pat likes to walk and likes to lead. Luann and I have been here before, so we kind of hung back and let Pat lead us around. I knew how to get back if we got turned around. As we followed Pat out of the old section, I noticed that we where heading for the train station. What luck. We walked straight into it and I could not quit thinking of how much fun it would be to take the train back. As we approached the station, Luann and I talked about our experience eight years ago arriving at this station. There were a couple gentlemen with some books standing there waiting for some passerby to ask them what they had. There was a sales pitch in there somewhere. As we walked into the station, we looked at the schedules but couldn't make anything out of them. I went to an open ticket window and asked the lady if we could get to Stresa from here. She said yes. She wrote the number of the trains and the times and handed it to me. We had to do this exchange in Italian because she didn't speak much English. Luann and Pat had left the station and were waiting for Sharon and I as we walked out. I had the feeling that there would be no train ride tonight.

We walked out of the train station and took the steps down to the main street. The two gentlemen were still standing there handing out books and asked us if we were American. We just kept walking, as we knew that the pitch would come if we said anything. I had the train schedule in my hand and I could sense that there was not much interest now. It would be 8:00 PM or so before we got to Stresa and we did not know exactly where the train station was there. I knew it couldn't be too far from the hotel, but I didn't push it. If anyone felt the least bit apprehensive, it wouldn't be much fun going. We worked our way back to the square and the lake front, stopping at a museum. It was a square, white stone building right on the water front. Pat read the inscription on the outside wall and determined it was a museum dedicated to an electrical genius named Volt. I didn't make the connection. We walked in and walked right out because we really didn't have time to go through it. Walking back to the square, we looked for a place to have a beer or glass of wine. We had forty-five minutes before we needed to be on the bus and we didn't want to get in trouble again. The restaurant we found was the same restaurant that Luann and I had ate at years ago. It was small on the inside, but no one sat inside. The hundred or so people were all sitting at outdoor tables. This restaurant sat on the corner of the main street directly across from the lake. This street corner was very busy, with motorized and pedestrian traffic comingling effectively. There was a square across from it where people would stop and sit or just play with pets or soccer balls. The pidegeons would fly around not being an annoyance, but more part of the scenery. We sat down and waited for a waiter. We waited for quite some time before we received any service and unfortunately, we didn't get what we wanted. Pat and I wanted a dark beer and we got a regular beer. It was really my fault because we went to find the restrooms and Luann and Sharon were left to order. They couldn't speak any Italian and the waiter probably didn't speak English. It was ok, though. We enjoyed each others company and waited out the final minutes before we loaded back on the bus, which was parked on the other side of the square.

At 6:30PM, we loaded on the bus and started the ride back to Stresa. As we pulled out, I noticed some young kids at a bus stop smoking cigarettes and chatting. I was amazed at how many kids smoked over here. We did not go back the same we came, so the ride back was shorter. We even drove past the hotel we had stayed at eight years ago. It was the Intercontinental Hotel and I had found it. Luann thought that was kind of neat. Melissa reminded us that we were on our own for dinner and gave us the opportunity to vote on tomorrow's tour. Tomorrow we would be going to Bergamo to visit a castle, cathedral and vineyard. We were going to see how balsamic vinegar was made. The vote was merely to see if the group would rather leave an hour early to avoid the cathedral being closed for Sunday services. I refused to raise my hand as I knew that the vote would go which ever way the Michigan group voted. We were outnumbered three to one. Sure enough, it was determined that we would stay on the same schedule. We must have looked ridiculous to people passing us on the highway wondering what all those old people were doing with their hands raised. I sat quietly all the way, as Luann, Sharon and Pat dozed a little. I knew that before this tour was over, I was going to see the world's largets frying pan or the world's biggest ball of yarn. I couldn't contain my exhuberance at the thought.

We pulled into Stresa around 7:15 PM and everyone scattered once they got off the bus. Most of us went back to our baby hotel rooms to freshen up. Pat and Sharon said they would meet us in the lobby and we could dine together. We all met a short time later in the lobby and added more people to our dinner group. It was going to be our Iowa travel contingency, minus Doyle and Cindy. I saw them heading down the promenade along the lake. The rest of us, all ten, headed up town to see what our choices were. The suggestion was made to have a drink before dinner, which thank heaven, did not need to be voted on. We looked for a bar. We passed bars on every street. Some were too small to seat all ten of us, some looked like they were closed and some we just walked by. There we were, the ten of us, moving like the blob, inching our way up and down cobblestone streets. We would would walk in, look at the menu and the facility, then walk out. We finally found a place that was a small hotel. It was called Elena's. There was no one in the place, so we were able to get tables in the back for the ten of us. We were allowed to have a drink, with some complimentary potato chips, and just relax. This place turned out to be perfect. We sat, talked, joked around and took pictures all around the table. We had our drink, left the establishment and headed to find a restaurant for dinner.

The group had seen a place that specialized in pizza a couple blocks away from the square, which is where we were now standing. It looked very good and it had heat lamps for outside diners, which would come in handy as the night was cooling down pretty fast. When we arrived, they were too busy to seat us, so we left. We walked back to the square and found another hotel restaurant, called the Plantation and decided this was it. We told the server that we needed seats for ten and the staff quickly put chairs and tables together. We had a long table, with white table cloth right in the middle of the restaurant. There were not many people there, so we pretty much had the place to ourselves. A nice sixty some year old woman was going to be our waitress and I had to make sure that she knew the tickets would be separate and that we needed to be able to pay with credit card. She had given us the impression that she didn't speak English so I was forever chasing her down, talking to her in broken Italian, mixed with Spanish, a little English and a lot of Pig Latin. It turned out that her English was better than any of our Italian. We had a long, great dinner and at one point, the whole staff left the restaurant to watch a procession passing by. It was a Virgin Mary Feast day and the church congregation was doing a procession around the square to honor her. At first, we thought someone had gotten hurt outside the restaurant or that there was a funeral procession. It never ocurred to us that they probably don't bury people in the dark either.

We left the restaurant around 10:00 pm. Some of us walked around the block to work off some of the dinner, others went right back to the hotel. Again, we did both. We had heard from others that the hotel reception and doors were locked at 11:00 PM. We didn't need that kind of a hastle, so we went back after a short walk. It was time to call it a night. Overall, it had been a fun day. We decided to get a bottle of wine and two glasses and go up to our room and sit on the balcony. The hotel bar gladly sold us the bottle. We went to the reception desk and put in a request for a wake up call. Breakfast was at 7:30 and the bus was leaving at 8:30. We put the request in for a 6:30 AM wake up call. The little voice in the back of my head told me that it might be too early, but I didn't listen to it. Luann always woke up anyway, so it really didn't affect me. We got our bottle of wine and ran into Bob and Bonnie as they were getting ready to leave the hotel to make a call to their kids back home. Luann suggested that they go to Pat and Sharon's room because Pat had an international cell phone that could be used. She also mentioned that our cell phone was in Pat's room getting charged. Our charger didn't work. I've never been on a trip, where our technical tools were so inferior to everyone elses. I wonder what Bonie and Bob thought when they saw the bottle of wine in my hand.

We got back to the room, confident that we would sleep better than last night and headed for the balcony. I poured us a small glass of wine. The glasses here were like the coffee cups. They could have come out of a little kids play tea set because they were so small. The air on the balcony was too cold, so we went in. Luann read and I went back to my routine with the set. It was not any different than last night. In and out of bed changing channels and adjusting volume, playing with the power button and just giving up, finally concluded the nights ritual. The TV went off, reading light out and the deep sleep set in.

Day 2

It was 11:00 AM in Frankfort Germany as our Delta flight began its descent. The crew had begun the breakfast service 1/1/2 hours before we touched down and they were picking the rest of the trash up as the plane made its final descent. Luann had awaken in time to eat and now she was resting with her eyes closed and looking extremely satisfied and content. It made me sick just watching her. How could she do it so easily, trip after trip? The plane had now taken a whole different personality. It was now buzzing with noise, smiles all around and people looking out windows. The window blinds were pretty much raised and people occupying those seats were like royalty. The majority of people on these flights don't have window seats, so everyone without a seat is trying to catch a glimpse of land. They have to go through the keeper of the window seat. For a lot of these people, it is the first time they have ever seen Germany or any other European country from the air. As you might expect, heads were moving in all directions. The three seat middle aisle that had not seen anything but plane cabin and heads was desperate to get a glimpse of land. It was like watching an ostrich farm when all the ostriches are frantically looking for sand to put their heads in. I was the worst one of all. Unfortunately, there was nothing to see. It was thick as smoke out there and no one could tell if we were near the airstrip or miles above it. The plane hit a spot of turbulence somewhere before touchdown and many of use thought we had landed. It came as a surprise when 20 seconds later we did actually touch down. Smiles disappeared for a few seconds. It was over. We were in Frankfort Germany and Luann and I have never been here before.

When I would picture Frankfort Germany, visions of cold war espionage would come to my head right away. I always imagined a gloomy, cloudy, busy and eerie kind of city. I think it is from some of the novels and spy movies I have read and seen during my life. Other that that, the only reference I can remember of Frankfort is when Colonel Hogan used to talk to Commandant Klink about Frankfort and Dusseldorf. As we taxied in, the keepers of the windows allowed us to get a good glimpse of the airport and the surrounding geography. Boy, was I surprised to see that it was a cloudy, gloomy, busy and sort of eerie. I could not believe that it was exactly as I had pictured it. How often does that happen?

We deplaned and now the vacation is one step closer to starting. All we have to do is get to the connecting flight and head for Milan Italy and we are home free. Our group met at the end of the concourse where we had deplaned and it looked like were going to have to walk to another terminal. The rest of the group looked great. I looked like a homeless person. Pat and Sharon headed us to the right door and we started walking. I couldn't talk, I couldn't walk, I couldn't think. There was a big fight going on within me. My brain was yelling at my body for not being able to relax and my body was blaming my brain for not being tough enough to ignore the distractions on the plane and fall asleep. It was awful. Luann asked me of I was mad or if I was tired. All I could muster was a grunt. I usually like to take control in situations like this, but I couldn't . I just followed the group. It seemed liked we walked for hours. I have never been through an airport that I climbed up and down more escalators, went through more doors, took more lefts and rights, read more signs and moved my carry on from one hand to another so many times. Going through customs was the easiest and fastest part. When we finally arrived at security to go to the gate, there must have been five hundred people in front of us. The line had at least four, maybe six horizontal ques and the length had to have been at least one hundred feet long. I was afraid we would miss our flight. Apparently security was too, because they started looking for passengers going to Italy and moving them to the front of the line. We all got through and our gate was not more than fifty yards from where we were. We are now at the gate and see that the flight to Milan is on time. We are almost home free. We have a few minutes to freshen up, so now it comes time to find the restrooms (WC as they are called in Europe). I will never bad mouth another US airport again. The Frankfort airport could pass for any American airport. It is modern, has lots of shops and restaurants and it is very clean. There is one major difference. They hide their bathrooms. There must have been five or six of us walking in all directions, running into each other looking for a bathroom. Where we have one bathroom for every ten or so gates, I don't know if this airport had ten or so bathrooms in the whole airport. We had to go through the duty free shop, take a right and it was stuck behind the Kiosk bar. One person could not find it by him or herself. It was truly a team effort.

Our last experience in Frankfort was with Alitalia Airline. I felt a little better now, having splashed cold water on my face and I was eager to get to Milan. The boarding doors were opened and we walked out into the cool, cloudy afternoon daylight fully expecting to see an airplane. There was no airplane out these doors. The doors led to a sidewalk that ran along the tarmac and to a bus. Yes, a bus. The bus that has poles in the middle that gives the passenger a clue that there will be more people on this bus than there is room. We were literally on the tarmac, but you couldn't tell it with all the bus and truck traffic running around. Shirley kiddingly talked about the bus taking us to Milan. The bus sat there for a good ten minutes as people kept piling in and piling in. It reminded me of some of those buses you see on that travel channel showing New Delhi India, where people are almost hanging out of them. It finally moved and we headed for the plane. The ride to the plane was as neat of a bus ride as I have ever had. We had this bus that looked like a small toy driving next to these huge planes. There were buses everywhere just like this, dodging around parked planes. There were planes landing and departing, not more that a football field away from us. Our bus driver even got screamed at by one of the baggage trucks as he cut the baggage guy off. This went on like this for a good five minutes and we finally arrived at our plane. The steps were out and we climbed on board. I knew I was going to do everything I could to get some sleep.

Luann and I got split up on this leg because of the delay in Cincinnati. We were OK with that because we both knew it wasn't a long flight and she needed the break after having spent all that time babysitting me on this trip. As soon as I got in my seat, it was time to close my eyes and let me fall under that dark blanket we call sleep. A person would think that after all this time with no sleep, I would nod off immediately. It was not to be. I thought I had gotten into a school bus full of kids with the chatter that was coming from two ladies about five rows behind me. I was so tired, I couldn't tell what language they were speaking . Also, the flight attendant had to make all the announcements in Italian and English. As soon as I would doze off, the attendant would come on. I got caught trying to understand the Italian and then have to listen to the English part to see if I got any of it right. I was lucky to have understood one word out of a hundred. It was a lot harder than those CD's I had listened to back home. Finally, the in flight service started and it was quiet. I fell asleep for almost a half and hour, when I woke to find the attendant staring at me. He wanted to know if I wanted the Italian version of our peanut or pretzels. We got crackers with a tomato taste and small bite size cookies. They were pretty good. As I looked out the window, I noticed we were flying over the Alps. It was one of the most beautiful scenes I have ever seen. We were close to Milan, just crossing the border and I could see the Matterhorn. The sky was absolutely clear, we were fairly low and we got a great view of the countryside. It was breathtaking. To make the flight even better was the fact that now the flight attendant had the beverage cart next to us. The wine was complimentary. I have never been on flight where wine was served like the water. I had to have a glass. Sharon and Pat were across from me and Sharon reminded me that it was early morning back home. I didn't care. If I only drink once in a while, this would be it. Once in the morning and a while tonight. My vacation had started. Window seat, great view, a little sleep and a glass of wine. I was ready for anything.

We landed in Milan/Melpansa airport. I wish the flight would have taken me to Stressa. We arrived without a hitch and without luggage, so it seemed. I met up with Luann and asked her if she had a glass of wine on the plane. I was so excited. She said no, as she slept the whole time. She is incredible. All twelve of us waited at the carousel. A few bags would come off, but nothing resembling any of ours. The wait lasted around thirty minutes, when a porter came with all of our bags. He was a big guy, with a pony tail and smiling eyes. He was our hero. How he got the bags was beyond me, but I didn't care. I got our bags and everyone else got their bags and finally we were ready to go find the tour guide. Snag number two hit. One of Bonnie's bags was not there. As we all sat there or stood there or walked around, a posse was formed to look for her bag. Bob went to patrol all the carousels (11 of them), Bonnie and Doyle went to the lost and found and the rest of us hung around. We watched people arrive, get their bags, walk through the exits and wondered if we were ever going to get out of this airport. It took a heroic effort, but someone in our group suggested that we leave and find the bus. Eleven of us walked out through the exit into the ground transportation area. Doyle and Luann went looking for the tour guide and didn't realize that she had found us. She was real short, so they may not have seen her. Either way, we got everyone rounded up and Bonnie came out of the baggage claim area with her bag. It had gone to Rome. Lucky bag! (the luggage, not Bonnie).

All twelve of us loaded into the tour bus that was big enough for fifty people, but we didn't care. We were going to the hotel. After a brief announcement from the guide, we rolled. I sat by myself, not because I didn't want to sit with Luann. but because I could put my carry on on the seat next to me. This way we both had window seats to enjoy the view. Milan looked exactly as it did eight years ago. It looked great. A one hour bus ride along the toll road that goes to Chiosso and Cuomo took us to the Stresa exit. The city of Stresa is one of many small cities that are on the waters edge of Lago Maggiore. Lago Maggiorie is a huge lake with small islands scattered throughout it, the Borromean Islands.. There are three of the bigger islands in the middle of this lake that are pretty well known, one of which will be our dinner location tonight. The bus made its way down the narrow highway from the highlands and then wound around narrow streets along the lakeside, through the small towns until we arrived in Stresa. This is a resort community and I can only imagine what this town looks like in the summer time during peak season. A quaint, but beautiful promenade along the highway gave way to the series of large and small hotels and inns that hid the small downtown stores. People were sitting in outdoor cafes drinking coffee, beer, cappuccino and a host of other beverages, along with food and pastries. It was enchanting. The bus dropped us off in front of the Hotel Milan Speranza au LAc Lungolago and we eagerly, but tiredly filed out to check in. I have never gotten used to the narrowness of the streets but that is the way this whole town was. Check in was a breeze as the travel guide gave the receptionist the names of the couples on the tour list, in turn, each couple got a room key. We were all taken up by elevator, two couples at a time, without our bags, because the elevator could only carry four people due to its small size. It took a few extra minutes to get to our rooms, but that was OK. We had made it!

In Europe, when you get a room key, it is attached to a big wooden or metal instrument. This makes it very difficult to lose a key and more difficult to carry the key in your pocket. When we were in Europe eights years ago, it took me almost a week to figure that out. I would carry the key, attached to the wooden or metal piece, and put it in my pocket. Going to dinner or simply walking around was very cumbersome and I looked like an idiot leaving the hotel. I thought I could outsmart them by taking the key off the instrument, but then I had one small little key that I knew I would lose. I finally noticed back then, that people would leave their keys, instrument and all, with the receptionist when they left the hotel and ask for their key when they got back to the hotel. I don't feel too bad about being that ignorant because Luann had not figured it out either. The group got a kick out of it when I told them. They probably wondered how they were going to last with me for a whole week.

Luann and I walked into a small, dark little room. There was nothing modern about this room. The bathroom was immediately to our left, with all the fixtures that normally belong in a bathroom. It also had a bidet, which resembled a urinal, only it had a drain in it and separate water faucets. I knew it would probably not be used as it looked awful uncomfortable. The bathroom was not proportional to the rest of the room. It seemed bigger than it should have been. In the hallway entering the room, there were a group of hooks along the right wall for coats and a mirror exactly opposite on our left. The mirror was actually the short wall of the built in closet. The bed sat in the middle of this room and two people could not walk side by side around the bed to the closet. There was a small table desk combination where a TV set sat across from the bed and we used this to set some of our luggage on. The other bag, mine, went on the floor. The closet wasn't deep enough for the bags. The TV was a small 16" that resembled the TVs we had given to Goodwill not too many years before. On each side of the bed was a night stand with lamps for reading. The phone was on Luann's side of the bed. The one thing missing from the room was a clock. We didn't pay much attention to the lack of the clock, but it would come back to haunt us. At the end of the room was a long, two pane door that led to a balcony. Our room was situated above the narrow street over the entrance to the hotel. There was a church right across from us, which we could see and hear the workers fixing up. A statue of the Angel Gabriel with his horn was covered under a blue tarp, guarding the entrance to the Church. It was a picture perfect setting for us. It was now 4:00 pm and we were all to get together at 6:15 for the night reception dinner. We were tired but a quick shower, clean clothes and the excitement of being here, propelled us to go out and explore this quaint town before we got together as a group.

Luann and I had about an hour to walk around and see what Stresa looked like. Walking out the front entrance of the hotel (I made sure I handed the receptionist my huge room key) we ventured into the narrow street. To our left was the center of town (centro) and to our right, across the busy highway (autostrada), was the promenade and the lake. We decided to go left and see the downtown. The street was the same size our alleys back home and it had reddish and gray cobblestone/brick surface. There was a pharmacy on the left hand side, you could tell by the green neon cross, and the church was on our right. A cross street, same size and composition, was at the end of our block. In the middle of that block was a wine store. If you looked up the street we were on and walked straight, you would run right into that wine store. We didn't run. We walked right into that store. We love our reds and to our surprise, the nice lady running the store had a couple bottles of Italian wines and she was giving a wine tasting to another customer. It did not take but a few moments for her to offer a couple of glasses for us to try. One was a Barbera grape wine, which was excellent, and the other a grape I have never heard of. We liked the Barbera wine better. What a nice way to start the three day stay in Stresa. We said our farewells to the proprietor and promised to be back. We meandered around the small downtown, which was a maze of small turns loaded with shops, restaurants and small hotels. The back of the the downtown, away from the lake, was hilly and made for a challenging walk on the cobblestone surface. This reminded me of an amusement park arcade, where it is all make believe. However, this was real and it was nice. A stop at the ATM for some Euros and our walk time was over. It was time to go meet the group for dinner.

We arrived back at the hotel before everyone else had gathered, which gave us time to get a glass of wine at the bar. The bar was a short two steps on the other side of the reception desk. It was very small and had seating for probably fifteen people. A wall separated the body of the bar from reception and the rest of the lobby. However, it was in perfect proportion to the small hotel. The rest of the group finally showed up and instead of going to dinner, we were told to go up a flight of stairs to a conference room. This conference room was fairly good sized and not dissimilar to the conference rooms at our hotels. At this time, we learned that the twelve of us were going to be combined with a group from Michigan. This group was thirty one strong and they had just arrived from a Collette Vacation tour of Southern Italy and Sicily. They had been on the road for nine days prior to this part of their tour. As we all sat at various tables, the hotel staff began serving us wine. They were very quick to make sure we didn't help ourselves, as Luann and Pat found out right away. We listened to our Collette vacation representative tell us what the agenda was going to be for the next few days. She told us what time breakfast would be served, what time the bus would leave for our tours, what we should wear, where we would be going and more information than I really cared to listen to. She handed out a folder for each couple to keep the handouts that Collette would be giving us throughout the tour. I felt like I was in a work related conference. Finally, we did the dirty deed. We had to introduce each other and tell each other a little something about ourselves. If you had asked me after this to tell you the names of the people that had introduced themselves, I would probably remember the twelve in our group (including me) and none of the Michigan people, let alone any tid bit of information. I introduced myself as an employee of Collette travel, which got a couple of laughs, but I did it because I am a rebellious individual and I didn't think the group needed to go through this team building exercise. After forty five minutes and three small glasses of wine (just a guess), we were instructed to meet in front of the hotel for our walk across the busy street to board two small boats that would take us to the Isola Bella (beautiful island) in the middle of Lago Maggiore for dinner. Our preschool class of older people was now a team, according to the tour rep. The only thing missing was a red lanyard that we could all hold on to as we crossed the street.

There are many highlights on this trip and this one dinner was one of the best. We boarded the two small boats. Older model boats, with a deep seating area in the middle and an elevated area in the back. Some people in the group sat in the covered part of the boat, which was in the middle, while others sat in the back. The view was gorgeous no matter where a person sat. It had already turned dark outside, but the lights from the town and house lights in the mountains gave us a lighted,romantic backdrop for a five minute boat ride to the island. The temperature was in the low sixties and dropping, but we were all mezmorized by the view. The boats churned the water into a frothy spume as we sped along the top of the water and we could not help but think that this had to be one of the prettiest settings we had ever seen. It was a setting out of a romantic novel or movie.

We pulled into the island and were dropped off on the dock. This small island is one big castle with a huge botanical garden. Since it was already dark, it was hard to see much of the grounds, but we got a good glimpse of the castle. It was huge and stretched for three quarters of the islands length. We were only going to experience a small part of it. The part that had been converted into a restaurant was where we were led. We climbed one flight of stairs, and through a small door we entered into a big dining area with two levels. The Michigan people pretty well took up the upper level and the twelve of us sat at a long table on the lower level, with some of the local customers. We were treated to a five plate dinner consisting of fish and veal, along with unlimited wine. It was topped off with gelato and a lemonjello after dinner drink that tasted like lemon drops from a blender. Our group talked, laughed and had a great time. Unfortunately, it came to an end an hour or so later and we had to load up in the boats and go back to the hotel. The temperature had really dropped now, so the back of the boat was even covered. As we headed back, the tall guy from Michigan, was chastised by his wife for something he did and he had to get Kenny McDaniel to attest to the fact that he wasn't as bad as his wife said he was. That made the ride back a little more memorable as we refelected about our delicious dinner and laughed at the poor Michigan guy's plight.

We arrived back at the dock and everyone went their separate ways. Most people went back to the hotel to go to bed, some went for a walk and some hung around the lobby. Luann and I did all three. We hung around the lobby and met Rageddy Ann and Andy (ardent Notre Dame fans) and talked about their daughter and my son who attended Notre Dame. We also met Jerry and Jan, who we found out later was sick with a cold. We learned more about them in five minutes than we could have ever learned about them in the team building session hours earlier. Luann and I got our key, got a warmer coat and went for a short walk. We returned approximately a half hour later and went to bed. We were ready. It was now 11:00 PM, or 4:00 PM Iowa time. I had been up thirty four hours and looked it. I couldn't wait for sleep to take over my body.