Start of an Italian Affair

Language can be like meeting strangers at a function - at first stumbling and awkward but becoming easier as you relax and become familiar. We had settled into French then German but now struck Italian for the first time on this trip and were uncomfortable. We stayed in a small village at a very pleasant family run guesthouse and we were the only foreigners. One of the family spoke a little English and he became our minder. We got on well. We had chosen this location for its proximity to the Stelvio Pass to the north and Lake Como to the south.

On a warm sunny Sunday we set sail for Lake Como. This is a place where we had stayed in 2010 but the weather had been so very hot and humid that a haze hung over the lake like a blanket and we had been a bit disappointed. We were giving her a second chance. On this sunny holiday Sunday every Italian from the south was seeking relief from the heat and a suntan at the Lake. They filled the roads and hung off every rock and shoreline like ants at a picnic. The Italians have to be the world's greatest exponents at car cramming into impossible parking spaces. They jammed into every void along the road. Scantily clad young females buzzed about 2 up on their scooters and the macho men blapped through the congested traffic in board shorts on their Ducatis. It was sensory overload. We enjoyed lunch with an icy Granita  along the shore at Lecco and then battled our way up to Bellagio for a Gelati and possible sighting of George Clooney, one of Bellagio's more famous residents. Alas George was not to be seen but the Gelati was great.

Late afternoon, still hot, we were preparing to reboard the bike when two Spanish riders sought directions. Why approach a couple of Aussies on an obviously Australian bike ? They spoke a little English but no Italian. We were their only hope amongst a sea of Italians who had taken a severe dislike to anything Spanish - the Spanish had just beaten the Italians in the European Football Final so Spaniards were not the flavour of the month. Fortunately we were able to assist and they were on their way to St Moritz.

We departed Bellagio first heading to Como and then north along the western shore of the Lake and eventually home. In future years we will remember this as one of our great bike adventures. The traffic was dense but the antics of the drivers and riders were unbelievable. You could pay to watch a stunt show and not be as well entertained. We pulled into a roadside trattoria at Tremezzo for an early evening plate of pasta but mainly to take a last look over the Lake and watch the traffic. So what are our thoughts of Lake Como ? Yes, we saw it in a much better light and it has magnificent natural beauty. Our fear is that the Lake is getting loved to death. It would be nice to see it with snow on the mountains, maybe another time.

Monday was Stelvio Day. Riders and drivers talk of the Stelvio Pass and its 47 hairpin turns in almost reverent terms. Our plan was to tackle the pass from the less popular Bormio side  early before it got congested and then descend via the much vaunted 47 bends to the north. If we enjoyed the experience then we would turn around and complete the exercise in the opposite direction. Well our plan worked on the ascent. Very tight in places we were competing for space with cyclists but there were few cars to block our passage. We hit the summit (at 2760 metres one of the highest road passes) took our photos, enjoyed coffee and a browse through the maze of tourist shops then prepared for the descent. The bends are tight, very tight. If you had the road to yourself then you could enjoy it but the reality is different. Pick a line and then have to adjust as a cyclist/biker/car/motorhome blocked the bend. It was hard work. Its a Pass that you have to do to add a feather to your cap but give us the Swiss Passes for riding pleasure. Did we turn around and ride it in reverse. No, we had enough and sought out roads less traveled.

Stelvio sits near the Italian/Austrian/Swiss borders so there are many riding choices. We stopped for lunch at a gem of a little village, Glorenza. This village is still in Italy but very Germanic as it is so close to the Swiss/Austrian borders and was no doubt part of Austria at some stage in its history. Many parts of the village have been restored and others are in the process of restoration. Get there before the tourist buses discover it. We then crossed into Switzerland for the magnificent Ofenpass (Paso dal Fuorn) and then back to Italy via the one-way toll tunnel and into the tax free haven of Livigno. This place is an enigma. It lies in a remote valley tucked high up near the Swiss border but it somehow enjoys tax free status even though it is part of Italy. Try super petrol at 1.11/litre compared to 1.80 + in the rest of Italy. Needless to say there are lots of designer gear and sporting goods shops. It is all a bit glitzy however and full of tourists with equally full shopping bags.

The day had been fine but there was a build-up of cloud around the mountains. As we prepared to leave we both jumped with the loudest clap of thunder and lightning strike that we had ever heard. Power failed, people ran out into the street and onto balconies to see what had happened. We chose discretion and adjourned for a coffee to settle the nerves and wait for the weather to take its course. Out of Livogno and its valley and back into Switzerland for a great run down the Bernina Pass back into Italy and home. The storm that had struck at Livogno hung around the mountains and was still rumbling with light rain when we left the next morning. Before long the wet gear was put away and we crossed Passo di Aprica, Passo del Tonale, Passo Predaia, Passo Pordoi and finally the Passo di Campolongo down into the little Alpine Village of Corvara in the Dolomite Mountains, our home for the next four nights.