Lake Garda Region (and a quick trip to Venice)

I should probably title this post "How to see the sights with 8 people in a 7 seater van." Or maybe just condense it to: "Cold, Fat and Crowded."

The decision to have 8 people stay in an area of Italy where nothing was accessible except by car might seem unwise to the casual reader but I assure you there were plenty of reasons that necessitated this arrangement. Not to say that any of those reasons were necessarily wise but since when have the traveling Ionescus been guided primarily by wisdom when planning any of their trips?

In any event, we were 8 people careening around hair-pin turns through streets narrow enough that we had to pull our side mirrors in to make it through. Those of you who have not been to Italy will think I am exaggerating, those of you who have will know I'm not.

Some of you might wonder why we'd bother to do the Italian version of Mr. Toad's Wild Ride while one of us was unseatbelted and the rest of us with our faces pressed against the windows and doorhandles. Particularly after seeing the photos from the previous post about the million dollar villa, you might wonder why we would want to venture anywhere else.

I have the answer: food.

More specifically: Italian food.

Turns out when you rent a million dollar villa (not a million dollars to rent obviously. Actually much cheaper than hotel rooms in the end. Much cheaper by far in case you're planning something there in the future) you get a concierge with extensive knowledge of the local restaurants and bars and who will not only share this information but will make reservations for you as well. Novella was spot on with her recommendations, right down to the best place to buy boots. We would have been lost without her. Well, to be honest, we were lost most of the time but without her guidance we probably would have ended up at the Italian equivalent of The Waffle House.

Alas, her superpowers were limited: she could not fix the internet nor, in the end do anything about the American-hating front gate. We were nearly stuck for another week in the million dollar villa due to the American-hating gate but we managed, through a series of short-clicks and long-holds on the remote followed by a step through the sensor, two jumps through over the sensor, gunning the car engine in a threatening manner, an a cappella version of God Save the Queen and a pirouette thrown in for good measure it finally opened and allowed us to leave.

In the end I think it was the pirouette that did the trick. But I am a little bit sad that it did. I would not have minded being forced to spend another week eating that wonderful food and touring those lovely towns. Maybe the gate knew we had a good thing, maybe it knew what it was up to and didn't want us to leave the gorgeous view and all of the food. Maybe it didn't hate Americans after all.

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Krissi and Shelby's first dinner in Italy. We were told that it is a tradition at this particular restaurant for all adults to be served a glass of Proseco before the meal begins. Our teenagers must look mature because they were served as well, no questions asked.

A day trip to Salo. Great shopping and the best bar ever.

This is one of the same restaurants we went to the first time we were in Tuscany. Was just as good the second time around.

Ferry trip around the lake. We went to Sirmione and got our first taste for how much more crowded things have become in four years. We really never got to see the castle at all, partly because of the crowds and partly because we tried to walk to a place Novella had recommended and then realized it was so far we'd only arrive in time to turn around and head back to the ferry. So we settled for a random spot where the setting was gorgeous and almost made up for the food being just so-so.

If we thought things were crowded in Sirmione we hadn't seen anything until we tried to make a day trip to Venice. Our first clue should have been when we got to the train station and were told that all of the trains to Venice were full.
"Verona is nice," the man at the ticket booth said "You should go there."
That was clue number two. As usual we ignored all signs, subtle and glaring.
But we did it for Krissi and Shelby's sake (since the rest of us had been before). My feeling about Venice is, (as I believe I expressed on our previous visit) that it's like Vegas; you visit once and never need to go again. This trip did not alter that impression at all. But they seemed to enjoy it and that's what counts.

The best shot of Venice although his face reflects the general feeling I had about sloshing through the rising Adriatic in the Piazza San Marco then being jostled through alleys by enthusiastic tour group members. Oh Venice how I don't dream of ever returning to you.

You Are Here (the gate hates Americans)

It appears I can come up with nothing original. First a repeat of Budapest now a post about lounging around in a huge house located on a mountain.

As far as I know, no one ever referred to this as a "cabin" but maybe that's because we're in Italy, not Austria. Here we're calling it a "villa." (or, alternately: the gorgeous house at the end of the deathtrap road but more on that later) What remains is the connotation of luxury and wealth and once again the Ionescus are spending a week living a lifestyle more glamorous than they can really manage. As we schlep around in hole-y t-shirts, unmatched socks and sweatpants circa 1990, I feel the ghost of glamorous guests past wincing and covering their eyes. In all probability they are responsible for tripping my mother on the stairs not once but twice. This is not to say she's the least glamorous of us all, merely that she's the most vulnerable to challenges to her center of gravity.

So here we are, out of our glamour depth but having a great time regardless.

But back to the deathtrap road part. There's a story there and in case you hadn't guessed, it involves being tired and lost (Linda we finally had an adventure that surpasses the Beauty Farm)

It began in Budapest. We spent the last day in Budapest overdoing it and consoled ourselves that we would have 9 hours in the car to rest until we arrived at our lovely Italian villa where we would drink wine by the pool until we'd fully recovered.
6 people and all of our luggage crammed into a car driving Italian roads (I won't bother to give details about the flat tire in Slovenia) did not turn out to be the day-spa-like experience we had in mind but we still consoled ourselves that once we pulled up to the villa and the pool/wine business began it would make up for all of the travel stress.

And that's exactly what would have happened if our navigation system could have found the place on the first (second or third) try, and if it hadn't been getting dark, and if the road wasn't a nightmare of hairpin turns, and if the inclines up the mountain had been 45 degrees instead of 90, and if the roads had been paved instead of not and if, once we finally arrived, we could actually have gotten the gate key out of the lockbox and if, when we finally pried the box open with a bottle opener, we had been able to get the electric gate to open and let us onto the property.

As we were carrying our bags past the pool and into the house, we were viewing everything through the eyes of frustration, exhaustion and hunger which meant the pool looked about as inviting as diving into a large toilet, the house appeared to be as warm and inviting as a white-washed cave and the view, well it was dark so we couldn't even see it.

But what some sleep and a full belly can do!

In the interests of keeping things real I will say that what they can't do is pave, level or widen the roads. Or get the gate to work properly. Or prevent a storm from knocking out the internet. Or make Italian internet repairmen change their work ethic (although they will have no problem getting in and out of the gate). So before you rush off and book a week's stay in this place you should first purchase a 4x4 vehicle no wider than the computer screen on which you are reading this, ween yourself off social media and take some lessons in pole vaulting so that you can get yourself over the fence.

What they can do is allow you to see the stunning beauty of the house, be awed by the view and appreciate the efforts of the concierge as she tries to arrange for the internet to be fixed, provides recommendations to wonderful local restaurants and then makes reservations for you. It's all included in the price of the rental. Except the pole, that you will have to provide yourself.

I realize this is a lot of photos for one place. However considering just how difficult and harrowing it was to get here, I felt it deserved a glut of photos. Just be glad it's not Budapest.
And once again I apologize about the comments issue. I have no idea how to resolve them and I don't know why a few get through and most don't.