Como where Tsars and Kings vacationed

We slept in --- I awoke at 8 and came down to the breakfast room. I asked at the desk for a converter for my computer --- the one I have doesn't work. Europe needs standardization of their electrical plugs -- my converter has worked in many places and in some not at all...so...I plugged in to get recharged. It is frustrating that the hotel charges $7.50 for an hour Internet connection and you must use it all in one sitting. No logging in and out to post a blog and quickly check email to see if there is a message from home. I wouldn't mind paying for the connection if I could use part this morning and part tomorrow morning. It shows a distinct change in Internet access attitudes between Northern Europe and Southern -- it seems in the North -- there is a belief that it is important for individuals to have access --- here not so much.

Along with dirtier conditions generally there is also much less familiarity with languages other than Italian. In Germany the announcements for train connections are often given in English, Spanish, French and German....same for Switzerland.....and in Scandinavia we found that almost everyone spoke English--here not so much. We walked to the supermarket and purchased Kleenex, fruit, cheese and some salami and turkey.. We had secured our lunch which we consumed in our hotel room a bit later. We stopped at an "banque automatique" for Kathy to pick up some Euros and returned to our hotel room...It is a best Western and certainly nice enough and within walking distance of everything.

The Duomo opened at 3:00 p.m. so we left the hotel about 2:30. Walking down the hill in the shade was not so bad, Today was much hotter than yesterday, and unfortunately there appeared to be no rescue in the form of a bit of rain. The Duomo was very nice indeed. Built prior to 1500 it was much plainer than the Duomo in Florence but it had it own charms. First, it had the feel of a real church rather than a museum. The interior was very dark and much cooler than the outside. People spoke in hushed tones and two men seemed to be setting up for a service of some sort as they discussed chair placement in a quietly animated fashion. The side alters were of greater interest than the main alter where the huge candlesticks stood and the influence of Bernini was quite clear. This copy of St. Peter's was not nearly as interesting as the side alters which had local character. The chapel was was quiet except for the gentle footfall of passersby and the occasional whispers of others awed by this place. I lit candles for my parents. These cathedrals all smell of melting wax, ancient incense and mold.

A carved wooden alter chronicled the apostles and Jesus at its base, but commemorated local saints and miracles of those saints raising people from the dead! The centerpiece is the virgin and child and on either side are patron saints. It is a very large, elaborate and beautiful piece with a lot of gold leaf covering the carvings.

After we left the Duomo we hunted up an Internet Cafe. Kathy remembered where it was from the day before and she got some gellato. I ordered an iced coffee and sparkling water. I tried to convey --- that I wanted it with the ice -- just in a glass. What I got was the coffee in a martini glass, a glass of ice on the side...I then poured the coffee (Italian coffee is very strong) over the ice and added my small bottle of mineral water. It was hot and I ordered a second one. This time the waitress said, --- you don't want the martini glass --- I smiled and said, no.

After I posted the blog and checked and cleared out some email, we walked on down around the lake to the 'villa de Olmo. This was a beautiful villa on the waters edge which was donated to the state and turned into a museum. Along the way we stopped in a park in the shade of a sugar gum tree. There on a bench next to us sat a father. His son was riding his bicycle. In the distance another father was trying to teach his young son to ride without training wheels. The boy was tired and fearful. Each time the father would run along side the boy and finally let go of the bicycle --- the boy would put his feet down become unbalanced and nearly fall. Then there would follow tears and anguish and recriminations....Finally the child sailed along unaided for maybe 50 feet! There was joy now, and great pride of accomplishment.

The father next to us could tell we were following the boys progress with interest and though he spoke no English and we no Italian we did exchange greetings and a shared moment that every culture --no matter what language---clearly understands---a rite of passage observed, shared and cheered by two old Americans in Como. Like so many in Europe -- when the man realized we were Americans -- he mentioned Obama with a thumbs up.

We journeyed on to the villa and sat watching another Italian gentleman fish. His pole was unlike any I had seen before....about 30 feet long. There was a lure at the end which had an orange needle-like top that floated -- signalling where the line dropped into the water. I could see from the bridge that there were many very small fish -- perhaps like minnows and some that were intermediate in size and then a few that looked like they could have been a small meal. I do not know what kind of fish he was fishing for, but the water here is clean enough that I would not have hesitated to eat fish from the lake. He would through food into the water near his line (I assume to feed the little fish to attract the larger ones) I will never know --- since I could find no one around who spoke English. As evening began to close round us we took our map and went another way home. It was still very warm and we rested in the relative cool of our room before we found a local Trattoria.

Again, no one spoke English. I ordered something and the older man who seemed to own the establishment ---just refused --- I don't know if he thought I would not like it or if there was some other reason --- but he said NO --- I indicated he should just choose something for me -- - which he did. It was a ravioli stuffed with a pesto in a Parmesan-olive oil sauce --I had the prosciutto and melon for salad.....I had not had the prosciutto --- it was very salty --- but the melon was delicious --very sweet and clearly grown locally. The wine was red and dry and quite good as well. It didn't taste like any of the wines I have sampled at home...I decided on our last night in Italy I would splurge --- but the wine was only 2 euro ---a bout the same as water!

The little trattoria sat at a busy corner --- but the tables were outside and the area was completely covered by a wisteria vine that must have been at least 100 years old judging from the size of it base. Along the fence grew Star Jasmine --- so it was very fragrant and a cool breeze was beginning to move the leaves slightly. We were the second customers of the evening, but as we finished our dinner -- the tables were filling up with local couples -- who had come home from work freshly showered and dressed for a Friday night out -- almost like at home --- except that we just hit the trattoria before we go home --- I would be too tired to go back out --- on Friday night when I get home around 6:30 or so exhausted from the week. I think Italians pace themselves a bit more than we do at home!

The wake up call came an hour early....at 6:30 the next day. It is difficult to communicate accurately --- when you don't speak the language. I did not sleep well last night. Perhaps it was the expresso that I had after dinner at 9:30 or perhaps it was the discomfort that I was feeling in my lower back --- I injured it actually before I left Nashville --- when one of the students sitting in line before school thurst his feet out into the hallway just as I passed -- toppling me. Nothing broken, but something twisted, and it has bothered me on this trip occasionally when I have somehow irritated it. Bunny gave me her emergency Prednisone when I first arrived in Germany and that took care of it for a while.

Still it has bothered me off and on during the trip to varying degrees....but I may have pushed a bit too much up hill here in Como, and the side walks all slope toward the center of the street making it more difficult to control the chair --- in any case I aggravated it. I hoped to rest it....because we will want to do a lot of walking in Nice.

We were in Italy after all --and so the train was late! When we finally got on --- there were papers in the way of the lift --- so he moved us to the other end of the car where there were people piled into the isle like so much baggage. Getting the wheelchair past the people and their bags was challenging. Actually Kathy had to lift it up and over, but eventually we put the chair in a spot that was not blocking the isle. Then came the baggage and finally Kathy and I found seats in the car.

We spent our 3-hour lay-over in the waiting room of the Milan train station. The room is quiet for an Italy! The light is subdued and people generally (excepting small children) speak in hushed tones. At least in Milan there is a waiting room. Many of the train stations in Italy do not have these --- nor are there places to sit and wait very much along the platform.

Pigeons nest here, and the smell of old wood, people, paper, sandwiches, and perfume, crowd the nostrils. The benches are of a design that does not support your back. They are singularly uncomfortable-- The remind me of Mussolini --- Stiff straight back with wooden arm rests between each person which make it impossible to lie on them. The arm rests look like eagles (art deco eagles). The room had a divider which was stretched with white blankets of the type moving companies use to cover furniture. I suppose they are renovating the other side -- but I have learned not to make to many guesses about things -- since my cultural understandings do not apply here. At one end of the room was a beautiful old fountain which no longer worked. It is a pity. It could have provided relief for the heat if it were functional. I leaned back against the hard wood and imagined how this might have looked in 1930....Perhaps there was a greater pride of place then and it might not have been so dirty.

Next to me on one side sat an elderly lady who was feeding the ever-present pigeons small crumbs of bread. They seemed indifferent to the feast....Then one lifted itself to the three television screens overhead at the entrance. They do not function --- but were probably intended to deliver information about arriving and departing trains.
There apparently the pigeons are raising a family....the mother settles ackwardly as if on a nest and it appears that there are smaller birds there --- I do not know if this is the case--since I do know that pigeons nest in this way --- only that it appears that this may be what is happening.

Finally at about 2:40 a train attendant appeared to help us to the train.This is a godsend --- not so much for getting Kathy to the train --- but for finding the right car and then making sure we are able to get everything on before the train departs. This gentleman had glasses -- but pulled a second pair on over the first to read the instructions he had for our journey. In Milan the lift for the chair was entirely motorized and he just guided it along the platform (biniere) --when got to the car ---I climbed up with luggage and helped get the chair off.

It was clear that this is an Italian train -- it was dirty --You wonder when this is the primary mode of transportation why this is. The gray upholstry is stained there was paper over the headrests that was meant to be changed frequently --- but looks like it has been here for a very long time. The window is covered with handprints, noseprints, forehead prints, and a film of dirt.

The car is hot --- even though there is cooler air coming out of the vent (that seems to be the air conditioner). Ah --- Italian Trains. The Train captain came and we learned that there may be a problem -- some sort of strike in France and instead of this being a through train to Nice we will need to get off and take another train when we reach the border. The Italian Captain throws his hands in the air and rolls his eyes when we inquired about the strike. "The French," he says, "they always strike!" This made the rest of the trip too tense for sleep. A Swiss couple were our companions in the compartment. Kathy and the old gentleman had quit a lengthy discussion about the world economic situation.
We got transferred and arrived in Nice where several kind young men lifted Kathy in her chair to the ground since the guy who was supposed to met us was not there and trains do not wait for anyone! We encountered such great kindnesses all along the way.