I got rained on. POURED. Should have brought out some soap and shampoo, it rained that hard. Not all day, luckily. I wandered Bellagio in the sunshine, strolling up and down narrow cobble-stoned streets in between buildings. Didn't wear the hiking shoes. I was wearing my cheap sandals from Target. But for casual strolling, they weren't so bad. I went as far through Bellagio as I could until I ran into water and ended up talking to a wonderful elderly Italian gentleman who told me I should go to Pescallo. He assured me that I could easily walk it. He said we might see eachother again. I said probably so but I didn't see how. It was ok. He was a nice man and I am always thrilled when I find someone who can speak english.
So, I strolled through Bellagio until I recognized the name of the town on a sign and headed in that direction. I didn't know how far away it was but the man assured me I could walk there. Along the way, walking up steep streets and hoping I didn't get hit by speeding Italian cars, I found an amazing old cemetery. It is hard to explain the utter beauty of the headstones and mausoleums that I knew must be old and historical. Hidden up on this hill, surrounded by 6 foot granite walls. At home our cemeteries are wide open grassy spaces enclosed by metal fences. You never expect to find an historical cemetery. I stopped and walked inside for a moment. It wasn't necessarily a spiritual experience but I was in awe at the beauty of the ancient headstones. Many with actual pictures inset on the marble. Some with old pictures just sitting in their frames on the granite ledge. I only stayed for a few minutes because I was really afraid that one of the residents would come in and shoo me away for disturbing the sanctity of the grounds. I took some pictures simply because I felt I would never see anything like this again.
In Pescallo there is not much more than a hotel and a restaurant. The rest are homes and apartments. I had walked all the way there following a road and signs and only realized once I got there that I could have cut over by taking the narrow walkways in between the buildings of Bellagio. When I looked at my gps on my phone, I discovered that there was an easier way to get to Pescallo. Oh well, had I taken the short cut, I would have missed all of the scenery and the really awesome cemetery. I'll take the long way any day.
Throughout my two days of being in Italy, there are moments when I audibly gasp at the beauty I find. There are times when I actually feel like I am on a Hollywood movie set. It is so beautiful here. The color, the architecture, the language.
After I got back to Bellagio, I stopped at a restaurant. I thought I was heading into the Gelato shop but walked in the wrong door. Not to be rude (and look dumb) and turn and walk back out, I walked up to the bar and said "American" because I figured then the guy behind the counter would speak english to me. Nope. He thought I was asking for American coffee. Oh, ok. So, I had coffee. I did look at the menu but I really just wanted something small (and inexpensive). This trip has been pretty inexpensive for me because I don't eat. Not because I'm not hungry but because I'm afraid of looking dumb when I order. I don't speak Italian. At all. Yes, I had ample opportunity to learn Italian before I got here. I had purchased "Italian for Dummies" and even got Rosetta Stone Italian through work. I had no excuse. I had just procrastinated and ended up getting here with very little preparation. I can say "grazie" and "scuzie" but that's about it. I haven't enjoyed any amazing pizza or pasta. I have only eaten full meals at the hostel, where they only offer one menu item but you can understand what it is. I have been afraid of not being able to say what I want. It's sad, but it is my own fault. I had visions of being Julia Roberts in "Eat, Pray, Love" and being able to just sit in a restaurant by myself and eat whatever. Instead I wander the streets alot and never enjoy the one thing I looked forward to in Italy. The authentic Italian food. I am afraid. But I do love it here. It's truly beautiful and I do so love listening to the natives speak to eachother. I will wish I had done more to prepare.
Anyway, so, after having the American coffee (yep, that's what it tasted like), I went into the shop next door and picked up a skinny can of Coke Zero and a piece of chocolate and sat out on the bench and watched the people go by. Then I wandered around some more. The thing about Italy is that you are constantly walking. Really, there is no need for a car because you can take a bus or a train anywhere. When you have a car, you have to worry about where to park it. That's what I have noticed in the two days I've been here. It's just easier to walk.
So, I walked around some more then headed back towards the ferry dock. Now, mind you the sun had been shining all day then the clouds began to move in. I stepped into a gelato shop and ordered a carmel and pesca (peach-which I butchered when asking, thinking I was saying it correctly. The woman behind the counter corrected me rather snobbily-I imagine she was saying "stupid American tourists" in her head. Yep that's me). Either way, it was really delicious and I sat at a table outside enjoying it.
Afterwards I found a park bench to sit in trying to decide what to do next. I had walked all over Bellagio and felt I had seen all I needed to see. As I was sitting on the bench, an elderly gentleman sat next to me. He began to speak to me in Italian. I apologized for being American and he stopped speaking. His phone rang and he got up to answer it and I took the opportunity to walk away.
I walked over to the ticket booth to get a boat ticket back to Menaggio and was informed I needed to go to the car ferry office for my ticket. I said "I don't have a car". I feel my humor is lost to the Italians. He just repeated himself and I walked away to find the car ferry ticket office.
I purchased my ticket using my credit card (because there was a line and I didn't want to have to dig for my change and look even more stupid than I already felt) and the guy behind the counter looked at me, again as if to say, "stupid american tourist". I can't win. When they come to America and use their card, do I think "stupid tourist"? No, I am glad they don't try to count their change to me. Anyway, I got my ferry ticket and walked to over to a nearby railing to wait for the boat. One of the ferries pulled in but since it was going to Varenna and not Menaggio, I knew to wait til the next one (although I did find out later that this ferry also stopped in Menaggio and I could have taken it-oh well). So, as I am standing there, minding my own business watching the cars and tourists unload from the ferry, here comes my elderly Italian friend (not the one that I met earlier but the one from the bench who got the phone call). He walks up and once again begins to speak to me in Italian. I, again, told him I was American and didn't understand Italian (I always think that when I say this they will either nod and walk away or start conversing in broken english. Not this guy.) He began to chatter away and it wasn't until I noticed he was looking me up and down over and over that I realized he was talking about my appearance. I wish I could have understood one word that he'd said but he was speaking so quickly that I couldn't pick up a single word that I recognized. He made some gesture to his face that I'm hoping was saying I was beautiful otherwise I don't want to know. Then he put out his hand to shake mine. He took my hand, shook it like a normal handshake, then did the American finger-grasp handshake, then he kissed my hand and rushed to catch the ferry. I stood there for a moment in shock then just chuckled. I had never experienced anything like this before. I sort of hope I never will again. It was flattering but it was also, on the opposite spectrum, very creepy. Probably a good thing I couldn't understand what he said.
I was standing waiting after that ferry left, it began to sprinkle. It had sprinkled earlier and stopped so really, that's all I expected it to do. Because I was under a tree, I didn't feel any of the raindrops...until it began to rain harder. And harder and harder. I stood as long as I could under the tree then made a bee-line to the covered ticket area and joined the already sardine packed group into a little room.
As I was standing off by myself in this tiny little room, I began to listen to different conversations that were happening around me. I am still amazed when I pick up a conversation I can understand. Even walking through Bellagio (which, by the way, is nothing like the hotel in Oceans 11, 12, or 13.) I would pass a couple carrying on a conversation and would smile because I knew what they were saying. At one point I even said to a woman "It still freaks me out when I realize that I understand". She laughed. Either because she gets what I mean or she thought I was crazy.
Anyway, I'm standing in this tiny glass enclosed waiting room and started picking up a conversation between two British couples who were talking about how much fun a Disney cruise is. I had taken a Disney cruise back in 2010 and was ironically wearing the hoodie I had bought from Castaway Cay. I never said a word to the couple but all of a sudden one of the husbands looked at me, saw my sweatshirt and suddenly I'm part of the conversation.
The rain poured down all the way from the boat leaving Bellagio to when it dropped people off in Varenna. I had visions of walking up to the youth hostel soaking wet. Luckily, when we arrived in Menaggio, the rain had stopped.
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