Where Patty Finds Herself an Italian Boyfriend

We left Javed's place before 7 because even though we only had about 15 miles to ride, we wanted to get our tickets for the 9:20 ferry and visit a bike shop in Riva.  The north end of Lake Garda is the mountain bicycling Mecca of Europe and we saw as many mountain bikes as we did road bikes.  I did not route us on the bike path, but instead used roadways and at one point we went through a long tunnel...over a mile in length.  It was well lit and there was very little traffic, but your heart definitely begins to race when a car comes up from behind.  The noise is similar to a freight train bearing down on you.

Having skipped breakfast, we stopped at a little roadside stand for a cappuccino.  Big mistake...it was awful.  However...as per Patty's Oreo Theory, there was a wonderful fruit stand next door and I bought a kilo of cherries that were beautiful.  We pressed on, climbing to the top of Passo San Giovanni and then we had a most amazing downhill into Lake Garda.  

I need to digress here.  While we were at the roadside coffee stand, Patty met an Italian cyclist.  He was very interested in her bike and where she had ridden.  I wanted a picture, but I didn't want to be too brazen about taking it and I was stifling an outburst of laughter.  It's a little fuzzy but I think you get the idea, and yes, that IS a cigarette in his mouth.  I need help coming up with a name for him...Luciano?  Emilio?  Riccardo?

It took longer than we thought to find the ferry.  There are dozens of private companies that provide transportation of some kind on this lake, so we had to ask a couple of people where the ferry to Sirmione was. Again...they did not speak English, and though our Italian is getting a little better, the exchange tends to be a lot like a game of charades.  We bought our tickets and tickets for the bikes for a little more than 17 euros.  Oh, and the ferry started boarding five minutes later.

We met a couple from Germany who have been biking in this area and are now heading back to their home in Stuttgart.  They have been to the United States seven times to places like the Pacific Northwest, California, the Midwest.  I had to smile.  Most of the Italians we have talked to who have been to the United States have gone to New York.  Sad.  We are encouraging them to come to the Pacific Northwest.  

The ferry trip was the milk run, but we thoroughly enjoyed stopping at the towns along the lake.  Ernest Hemingway loved this area and nearby Lago Maggiore was made famous in his A Farewell to Arms.  Just before we got to Sirmione, the ferry passed a castle called Scaliger Castle.  "It represents the typical Ghibelline swallowtail merlons and the curtain-walls (with three corner towers) in pebbles alternating with two horizontal bands of brick courses." (Wikipedia). Ummmm, yeah, what he said.

We thought we had dodged a bullet weather-wise.  It started to rain about halfway through our ferry ride, but quit (I'm not kidding) about ten minutes before we disembarked.  Sirmione is at the north end of a narrow peninsula on the south end of Lago di Garda and it is one. big. tourist. trap.  We managed to get through the crowds and rode south until we found a nice place for lunch.  There was a string of 40 or 50 cars going north...my condolences.

Our waiter at lunch also flirted with Patty.  He was making jokes, smiling, refilling her wine glass.  But...the best thing he did was tell us about a bike shop called Il Ciclista.  We rode there and found some great Sirmione jerseys...they have the Italian flag colors on the sleeve and say La Perla del Lago Garda on the back.  We agree.  I hate to admit it to all of you, but it was now raining steadily, warm, wet rain.  We found our B&B without too much trouble, put the bikes under cover, and enjoyed the rest of our Teroldego.

Tomorrow we head towards Verona, where Patty can say, "Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou, Romeo?"