Fodor's Travel Talk Forums - Trip Report Lake Maggiore/Lake Orta/3 Nights September

Last fall, we spent time in Lake Como, Lake Iseo and Lake Garda, and you can find trip reports for that on our link.
Last month, we based ourselves in Lake Orta and re-visited Lake Maggiore. Sept. 22-25.
We flew from Munich to Milan as the second leg in a 6-week European vacation.
We rented a Fiat 500 at the Milan airport.

Day One. The drive to Lake Orta was easy. We used Google offline maps, and they worked like a charm. Our home for three nights was an airbnb, a medieval 2-story penthouse with views, through a series of high arched windows overlooking rooftops covered in unusually thick heavy stones and the iconic monastery on Isola San Guilio. Parking is difficult in the village of Orta San Guilio, where we stayed, but we pre-arranged, for a fee through our airbnb hosts, a nice private camouflaged parking garage in the ZTL zone just minutes from the heart of the small village. Our hosts were two young women, twin sisters, who were lively and anxious to share details about their upbringing in this tiny town. We arrived just before a glorious bright red Saturday night sunset and joined mostly Italians (many there for just the evening) in the large open square full of bars, cafes and restaurants. The only oddity was that this splendid little town, right on the water, had its main square anchored by the now closed and abandoned (obviously for some time) very large Hotel Orta and its former restaurant. We picked a recommended “local” pizzeria for our first glass of traditional Aperol Spritzer, great pizza, and grilled veggies. This little town also had a high number of gelato places for its size. We immediately dismiss any gelato store that has colorful offerings (blue and purple or even bright green mint are big no-nos); earth tones are a sign to us of quality ingredients made in-house. We found two winners here. We caught up on emails, etc., and settled into our ancient but modern apartment loaded with wooden beams from hundreds of years ago.

Day Two: Brilliant warm sunshine welcomes us into the main square for orange juice and pastries. And, we make plans to check out the “island” first. There are a number of small shuttle boats that make the short hop to the island where St. Julius died around 400, and a chapel dedicated to him was built there shortly after. Hundreds of years later, a large basilica, still there, was built, followed by a seminary (now a Benedictine monastery). The buildings are surrounded by a small castle-like fortress and there are a few shops, a restaurant and some residences, but the island, while very scenic, is also very small. We took our time, enjoying little sayings, in multiple languages, on various sign posts including one that said “”In the silence, you receive all.” And, another with a similar message: “silence is the peace of oneself.” The irony is that during good weather, the many tour groups that swarm over this tiny island hardly adhere to these messages. After our brief walk, and seeing the growing number of visitors, we ended our visit, and we motored back on one of the frequent shuttles. It was still early, but the gelato store that came most recommended to us was now open, and we have waited a year for gelato, so we decided it was time for our second gelato in 24 hours (actually about 14 hours), and we ordered two piccolo (small) cups from L”Arte del Gelato. Scrumptious. We then decided to work off the morning pastry and the gelato with an uphill hike to the Sacred Mountain of Orta (Sacro Monte). It is a rare day in Europe when we do not visit one, two or even three churches, even in the smallest of villages. We are always speechless (and have mixed feelings) when we see so much art of every kind in such extravagant places, in even the smallest and remotest of towns. The brief hike up the mountain yielded the best panoramic photos yet of the island. On this morning, we trekked up to see one large church, in the middle of Sunday Mass, and 20 smaller chapels, built over 200 years (late 1500’s to late 1700’s) to honor St. Francis of Assisi and to cover various aspects of his life. It ended up being scaled back from the original plans for 36 chapels, but they cut few other corners, utilizing the best artists and sculptors of the day. Except for Mass goers at the main church, there were few others walking around the sprawling complex that is in a wooded park-like setting. There was no starting point per se, but when we took a peek toward our first chapel, we thought that it looked full of people and assumed there was a group filling the small space. Upon further inspection, this “group” was a number of lifelike sculptures. We are uncertain of exactly what the story-line was for this gathering, which was behind large iron gates, but there were about 50 full-size statues looking like a Papal figure holding court on the altar surrounded by dozens of animated characters, some bishop-like but others appeared to be nobles, even children. We had never seen anything like it. Three dimensional art of the highest order. Another dramatic and large group of 3D art assembled dozens of townspeople in a more chaotic but lively and less structured scene. These were breathtaking, even as you peer through gates, but all the chapels were different, some gated but viewable, some open, some very simple, some with framed art, others with frescoes, and still more with statues that were stiffly assembled like you often see in a Christmas manger scene. All were worth the visit.

Lake Orta is a small lake and a drive around the lake is only about 25 miles. We stopped at a Lidl grocery store, our favorite in Europe. What’s not to like about a store that sells sparking red Lambrusco wine from the Emilio Romagna region, 1.5 liters, for 2.39 E? We then headed for Omegma at the top of the lake. We walked through a quiet (again it was Sunday) old village fronting the lake. Lots of pretty flowers and a canal feeding a river to the north from the lake. We had heard that this largest city on the lake has been the center of kitchenware manufacturing in Italy, but, and we didn’t look hard, we didn’t see any signs on this day of the supposed outlet stores, etc. The largest group of people were a couple dozen men congregated outside some type of club. There also was a parade of vehicles, decked out in white and red balloons and ribbons, celebrating something and led by a beautifully restored old split window VW bus. Back in the car, we drove down to Pella, a small village overlooking the back side of Isola San Guilia. All along the waterfront were tents and tables for a Sunday antiques market with lots of nick-racks, small furniture, prints, books and even dozens of old cell phones. There was a small waterfront area for motorhomes (in Europe they are almost always on the smaller side than in the US where our roads are wider), a little tourist train, a small harbor with nice sailboats, and some shops in the small old town. And, okay three times in less than 24 hours, we found another gelato gem, but they were all piccolos. This one run by four young women, all dressed in black with flower print red head scarves. They were very busy and efficient and delivered a great product and even topped ours off with “panna”, one Italian word we use often. Whipped cream. Once we returned “home”, we took a walk along the lake, a nice wide cobbled boardwalk to the south, and we found some nice waterfront restaurants and hotels to the north.

Day Three. Again not a cloud in the sky, still fairly warm, and what we discerned as a light wind.
Before our trip, we had contacted the operator of a cable car between Mt. Mattarone and the village of Stresa on Lake Maggiore. And, they confirmed that, although most passengers start in Stresa, that we could drive up the mountain, leave our car and travel down to Lake Maggiore for the day on the cable car. We were alone on the curving road up the mountain, with occasional stops for photos of snow-capped mountains, probably in the Italian Alps. When we got to the top, we realized we were the only car, although there were a couple of restaurants that appeared to be open. We wondered if we had miscommunicated our dates and thought the cable car might be closed for the season. The entrance to the cable car building was open, and, eventually, we found two men and were able to communicate our interest in going down to Stresa. They mentioned, mostly with hand gestures, that there were winds on the lake, and they usually work their way up the mountain. They called an office below, got clearance for us to pay by credit card when we arrive in Stresa and offered to take us down on an essentially private cable car. One of them jumped in, put the car in gear and invited us aboard. BUT they warned that it was possible that they could shut down for the day if the winds got worse. Translation: No guarantee we could get to our mountain-top based car later, save for a very expensive taxi. That would not work for us, but these guys happily let us out on the cable car platform to take panoramic photos of Lake Maggiore below. We then opted for a narrow park-like drive down the mountain directly to Stresa, and didn’t see any other cars, ending with an unexpected (we must have misunderstood a sign) tollbooth and an 8 euro charge. The last time we were in Stresa, we were innkeepers, who were given a significant courtesy discount at the posh and normally expensive Grand Hotel Borromees. It was late November (our Thanksgiving), before they closed for the season, and cool foggy weather shut down ferries to the three islands in the lake. Our room then looked onto the well-lit perfectly manicured gardens of Isola Bella, and that was a place we have dreamed of going to for the 10 years since then. Parking in Stresa, even on this gorgeous day, was plentiful, which, we are told, is not the case during the summer season. But when we got to the port offices, a simple handwritten sign said “No boat today.” It was just too windy, and the surf was crashing all along the city’s waterfront. We Our waterfront walk eventually ended up at a small marina, a little closer to the island. And, after some deliberation, the captain of a decent size tour boat agreed to take a few dozen passengers if we all realized that there was no guarantee when we would get back. Some dropped out, but we took the chance. The island has touristy stuff, shops, restaurants but the ancient villa, really a palace ( a wealthy banker’s summer home that is grand enough to have hosted European royalty including Napoleon) was open for a full viewing, and we seemed to have it almost to ourselves. The wall to ceiling art, the furniture, the statues, the tapestries, the grand rooms and staircases, was very much like a visit to the other great palaces of Europe. Magnificent. But outside is the piece de resistance, some of the finest terraced gardens anywhere. White peacocks running about, lots of statuary, beautiful flowers, perfectly manicured shrubs and trees, greenhouses, a caged area of small colorful birds, and astonishing views. Lucky for us, a boat took us back when we were ready and instead dropped us off at the main port area, closer to the city center. The last time we were in Stresa, the old town shops and restaurants were mostly closed for the season. This time, it was lively, and we found a nice outdoor eating spot on a busy square. We shared a sausage pizza, two salads and half liter of red wine, and only 23 euros in this busy tourist area. One of the reasons we really love Italy.

We returned to our apartment, snacked at home, took an evening walk in a significantly quieter Monday evening in the village, and then prepared for the next leg of our trip: the Italian Riviera (roughly Genoa to La Spezia).