Telling Tales

All in all the time with my family couldn't have been much better. Ok so there was very little genuine relaxation, but I got to see loads of interesting places and had a laugh in the process. Camp, however, was a little different. Jane was only with us for a week, and it was a real shame because she was great. Mr Wickham was enjoying ruling the roost and using his right to a veto wherever possible. He had managed to ensnare Lydia who hung off his every word and adopted his inspiring 'I can't be bothered' attitude.

So after my amazing Garda-filled weekend, I was ready for a much better week at camp. I'd fumbled my way through up until now and after taking some time out to plan, I was confident of being able to start afresh and power through some good lessons for the kids so that they could come out of the week having learnt at least a little bit of English.

This was not to be.

Lydia had insect bites.

Mosquitoes are potentially the most unpleasant animal found in those parts and boy did they make their presence felt. So Lydia, we all had insect bites. We did not, however, decide that these insect bites were so bad that we desperately needed a day off. Lydia did.

Picture the scene. It's Monday morning and already getting muggy. I cycled a couple of miles to camp and I need to prepare some things for my class. I arrive at camp only to be told that Lydia won't be joining us today and so I have to take her class.
'But I already have a class.'
'I know.'
'Now you have two. Together.'
'Oh.'

Mayhem. Mayhem is the only word I can use to describe what went on that day and put me back in my ever-so efficient plan that I was still playing catch-up on Friday. Fortunately the company was way ahead of us and sent another tutor to help us out. I shall call her Charlotte Lucas. When Lydia decided to come back the next day, she was told that as she was weakened (yeah right!) she could share her class with Charlotte Lucas.

Lydia and Mr Wickham continued their acquaintance and I was adopted into the American/Canadian family. Charlotte Lucas, a Canadian herself, took great pleasure in telling us over lunch that Lydia didn't do any teaching at all. She used her pidgin Italian to bark instructions at the children and keep them in order.

Anyway the end of camp show couldn't come sooner, but not without a few extra tales on the way...

Road Trippin'

The following day I was treated to more of Northern Italy's impressive lakes in 'Garda: the return of'. I know that saying 'more lakes' and then going on to talk about the one I went to yesterday isn't the best way to start, but I love contradictions, so I'm gonna run with it.

Basically Garda was going to be our central point and from that we'd work our way around and about, exploring what there was hidden in the nearby hills. You think it sounds idyllic? Yeah, it was.

As you can see the day wasn't as perfect as it had been previously, but it was cooler, and less humid, so I was cooler, and less sweaty. Win. Win.

The views were traditionally Italian - the cypress trees, the villas, the fluffly green hills and the lakeside towns. With one exception.

D'Annunzio was a famous Italian poet and author that was famed, amongst many other things, for being around at the start of the fascist movement in post World War One Italy.

One of the other things I mentioned in passing was that he was widely considered a little eccentric. I've seen his house and I can confirm this 100%: he was a nutjob.

His estate sprawls up a hillside overlooking Lake Garda and after the house (full of 'things' - some cynical people may call it 'clutter'), he has a large mortuary cum shrine cum momument to himself (see above); there is an open-air theatre and... oh yes. A boat. In fact many boats. And a ship. A full-blown navy ship-thing.
I mean who has a ship in their garden? After that pretty flummoxing question there is the issue of how it got there. The thought processes to get to the moment where you realise you need a ship in your garden are so beyond my comprehension I cannot begin to explain.
Anyway, to your left you can take in the might of the ship. In the garden. Jus' chillin'.

After the slightly out-of-body experience of il Vittoriale, D'Annunzio's hood, we moved on to some more picturesque places.

Riva del Garda is a little town that, if it were a person, it would be sitting on a jetty, dipping its feet into the lake. It's obviously a tourist hot-spot but the slow pace of life for the locals is so infectious that you can sit at one of the lakeside cafes, watching the world go by for hours.

We drove all the way round the lake through towns like Limone (so called because of the lemon plantations stuck to the side of the hills). We also drove through what, to me, was just another generic tunnel, I was however, informed that it was a little more special than I'd first thought.
This picture looks quite ordinary. I mean it's obviously very beautiful, but that is in fact a picture looking back at the 'special' tunnel. Eagle-eyed film buffs will recognise that picture from the beginning of Quantum of Solace, the most recent James Bond film. After a lingering look at this vista, the shot then changes to the tunnel where Daniel Craig's James Bond has an epic car chase in about 4 foot of space with a camera strapped to a shopping trolley. The shot then changes to Siena, which, for fans of continuity will realise that Garda and Siena are connected not by a tunnel, but a large motorway. And things.

The final stop on our tour was another lake and by far my favourite. Lago di Ledro looks as if it would fit in in the Lake District. It's so peaceful and the only people that really know it's there are Italian. I could have stayed there all day just looking at the view and I got chance to do that long sought-after relaxing that a week of camp requires.

Going Garda

The rest of my first week passed by without much more incident. I was looking forward to the weekend to recharge my batteries and maybe take in some of the local sights. The reality was, in fact, much the opposite...

So Saturday saw my first voyage to one of the most famous lakes in all of Italy - Garda. Whatever you've read in the guide books and on the internet isn't true - there are no words to describe how beautiful it is. So I'm not going to try. I'll post some poor photos and fervently encourage you to go and take a look for yourselves...

On the southern tip of the lake is a series of towns. I was taken to two of them - Sirmione (see right) and Desenzano. Sirmione is a little island that juts out into the lake. (Adopting my best estate agent voice) It boasts many quaint streets and some impressive Roman ruins affording many beautiful views of Lake Garda.

I was taken by my host-uncle who had a reasonable command of English, a keen interest in music, and a typically Italian driving style. It was certainly an eye-opening trip...

The weather had been - let's say - interesting all week. Very humid spells were often followed by intense thunderstorms. It was very dramatic - certainly when you can see the rain coming in over the mountains, but it is a sight I could have done without during my whistle-stop tour. Nevertheless the weather came in across the lake and left Desenzano looking a little grey and lifeless.

It wasn't as tourist-y as Sirmione, but still pleasant. I imagine it would be beautiful on a clear day, but unfortunately I never got the chance to see it that way...