Trip Report: Bellagio, Bologna, & Rome
Sep 30th, 2019, 11:24 AM
#1
Original Poster
Join Date: Aug 2009
Posts: 85
Likes: 0
Received 0 Likes
on
0 Posts
Trip Report: Bellagio, Bologna, & Rome
Three years ago, a happy daytrip to Lake Garda from Verona sparked my interest in seeing more of Italy’s lakes. So hard to choose among the tempting possibilities! Everybody agrees that you have to stay overnight to get the true sense of what a town is like—but also that you mustn’t waste too much time relocating during your trip.
After much thought, I settled on five nights in Bellagio; four nights in Bologna, which I’d also visited on a daytrip; and four nights in Rome, my favorite place in il bel paese. Bellagio vs Varenna was a tough call that was settled by my interest in Villa la Rosa B&B of Bellagio. All my expectations were exceeded by this charming, family-run inn, which features six rooms, each with an individual patio facing the lake, and a small but lovely rooftop pool. It was the pool that decided it for me—outdoor swimming is over in my part of the world by mid-September, and I miss it terribly. I had the pool all to myself every morning before breakfast, with 360-degree views of the mountains and lakes and a soothing silence, occasionally punctuated by distant church bells.
It doesn’t help to worry about the weather but I couldn’t keep myself from checking the forecasts for days in advance. What would mr fan and I do if it rained? I planned a daytrip to Milan that I’m almost sorry we didn’t take. As it happened, we had beautiful, perfect weather for the entire trip, except on the two days it mattered least, when we transferred between locations—and even then, it was just a bit of rain, nothing too hard to deal with. Late September really is a fine time to travel.
We spent the first day roaming around Bellagio, getting acquainted with its gorgeous waterfront and winding alleys, and savoring the first of many plates of meats and cheeses—this time at Apperitivo et al, a cavelike enoteca that I wish we’d had a chance to revisit. Dinner was at Bellagina, near the B&B, where we sat on a balcony with a view of the lake. Most of what we overheard was in Italian. We were practically falling asleep at the table before figuring out that the check wouldn’t come to us; we had to pay at the downstairs register.
Off to a promising start! Next: The charms of Varenna.
After much thought, I settled on five nights in Bellagio; four nights in Bologna, which I’d also visited on a daytrip; and four nights in Rome, my favorite place in il bel paese. Bellagio vs Varenna was a tough call that was settled by my interest in Villa la Rosa B&B of Bellagio. All my expectations were exceeded by this charming, family-run inn, which features six rooms, each with an individual patio facing the lake, and a small but lovely rooftop pool. It was the pool that decided it for me—outdoor swimming is over in my part of the world by mid-September, and I miss it terribly. I had the pool all to myself every morning before breakfast, with 360-degree views of the mountains and lakes and a soothing silence, occasionally punctuated by distant church bells.
It doesn’t help to worry about the weather but I couldn’t keep myself from checking the forecasts for days in advance. What would mr fan and I do if it rained? I planned a daytrip to Milan that I’m almost sorry we didn’t take. As it happened, we had beautiful, perfect weather for the entire trip, except on the two days it mattered least, when we transferred between locations—and even then, it was just a bit of rain, nothing too hard to deal with. Late September really is a fine time to travel.
We spent the first day roaming around Bellagio, getting acquainted with its gorgeous waterfront and winding alleys, and savoring the first of many plates of meats and cheeses—this time at Apperitivo et al, a cavelike enoteca that I wish we’d had a chance to revisit. Dinner was at Bellagina, near the B&B, where we sat on a balcony with a view of the lake. Most of what we overheard was in Italian. We were practically falling asleep at the table before figuring out that the check wouldn’t come to us; we had to pay at the downstairs register.
Off to a promising start! Next: The charms of Varenna.
Oct 1st, 2019, 05:18 AM
#4
Original Poster
Join Date: Aug 2009
Posts: 85
Likes: 0
Received 0 Likes
on
0 Posts
Welcome, TDudette! I've tagged along with you, too.
I don’t usually sleep well away from home but mr fan and I both clocked in at a remarkable 11 hours on our first night, banishing every trace of jet lag. Opening the door of our room to see the splendid view felt like waking up in paradise. After my refreshing swim, we settled down to a buffet breakfast attended by the Mamma of the house. Pappa was working every time I saw him—mowing the lawn, tending the garden, puttering about. The sons, with their fluent English, do most of the customer service; the parents tested my Italian. I think I understood most of what they said. Pappa was especially warm in his praise of my attempts at la bella lingua. I’m sure what he really meant was not that I speak it well but that it’s nice that I make the effort. His encouragement was music to my ears anyway.
Then our first ferry ride, the 15-minute crossing to Varenna, where the castle at the top of the hill adds a particularly majestic air to the town. We started walking, thinking that we were headed for there, but as so often happens, we were going in the opposite direction. So we spent a pleasant hour in the gardens of Villa Monastero before lunching in a shady street at Varenna Mon Amour. The table featured a glass jar containing an individual piece of paccheri, a tube-shaped form of pasta; I guess showing is easier than explaining over and over again what they are. I hadn’t known, but I’ve noticed it on menus a few times since. So I had it, allo scarpariello, while mr fan enjoyed the lamb scottadito. Both dishes were yummy.
Now for the castle—but wait! Instead of the shorter paved route, we appeared to have taken the rugged hiking path. Challenging though it was, it turned out to be a happy accident. When we stopped to catch our breath, we were alone in the fragrant greenery, a welcome break from being part of the tourist throngs, and it was so romantic. We soldiered on until, sweaty and breathless, we finally made it to the castle, which is an utter delight. After a couple of restorative beers, we found plenty of steps to climb, slits in the walls to peer through, tunnels to explore, and atmosphere galore.
I can see why people fall in love with Varenna; it’s charming in every way.
Next: Walking the Greenway.
I don’t usually sleep well away from home but mr fan and I both clocked in at a remarkable 11 hours on our first night, banishing every trace of jet lag. Opening the door of our room to see the splendid view felt like waking up in paradise. After my refreshing swim, we settled down to a buffet breakfast attended by the Mamma of the house. Pappa was working every time I saw him—mowing the lawn, tending the garden, puttering about. The sons, with their fluent English, do most of the customer service; the parents tested my Italian. I think I understood most of what they said. Pappa was especially warm in his praise of my attempts at la bella lingua. I’m sure what he really meant was not that I speak it well but that it’s nice that I make the effort. His encouragement was music to my ears anyway.
Then our first ferry ride, the 15-minute crossing to Varenna, where the castle at the top of the hill adds a particularly majestic air to the town. We started walking, thinking that we were headed for there, but as so often happens, we were going in the opposite direction. So we spent a pleasant hour in the gardens of Villa Monastero before lunching in a shady street at Varenna Mon Amour. The table featured a glass jar containing an individual piece of paccheri, a tube-shaped form of pasta; I guess showing is easier than explaining over and over again what they are. I hadn’t known, but I’ve noticed it on menus a few times since. So I had it, allo scarpariello, while mr fan enjoyed the lamb scottadito. Both dishes were yummy.
Now for the castle—but wait! Instead of the shorter paved route, we appeared to have taken the rugged hiking path. Challenging though it was, it turned out to be a happy accident. When we stopped to catch our breath, we were alone in the fragrant greenery, a welcome break from being part of the tourist throngs, and it was so romantic. We soldiered on until, sweaty and breathless, we finally made it to the castle, which is an utter delight. After a couple of restorative beers, we found plenty of steps to climb, slits in the walls to peer through, tunnels to explore, and atmosphere galore.
I can see why people fall in love with Varenna; it’s charming in every way.
Next: Walking the Greenway.
Oct 2nd, 2019, 05:16 AM
#8
Original Poster
Join Date: Aug 2009
Posts: 85
Likes: 0
Received 0 Likes
on
0 Posts
Happy is how I like my travel companions, Happy Trvlr. Thanks for coming aboard, john, bon, and wife.
Although I’d intended for us to walk all six and a half miles of the Greenway and I studied the route carefully, we covered only somewhat more than half, from Cadenabbia to Villa Balbienello. Quality, not quantity, I am constantly reminding myself. We thoroughly enjoyed the lakeside esplanade that gives way to a route of narrow cobblestoned streets, marked by pretty churches and the occasional shy cat. We saw dogs everywhere, of course, but very few kitties! Once I recalled that there are silver medallions embedded in the pavement to indicate the path, we found our way more easily.
Lunch at Albergo Lenno, with a splendid view of the water and a handsome waiter. This country is so full of good-looking, well-dressed people!
On to Villa Balbianello and its fairytale charm. I confess that the Casino Royale connection was what attracted me. We didn’t take the house tour; I’m very interested in buildings from the outside, but not in furniture or interior design. (Thirty years later, mr fan and I are still living with the stuff we inherited from our parents, which frees us up to spend our money on travel instead of redecorating.)
After taking the ferry from Lenno back to our home base, we dined at Trattoria San Giacomo. They do not accept reservations, so we arrived promptly at the 7 pm opening and joined the others eagerly waiting along the stone steps outside. The management keeps a box of cushions on hand for potential customers, who can settle down with a drink from Apperitivo et al across the street while they wait. We scored the last available outside table and hunkered down to a hearty meal that began with a bottle of red wine and a shared appetizer of fettucine al ragu; advanced to juicy dishes of osso bucco, served with dark brown polenta; and concluded with some buttery chunks of gorgonzola. Only three days in, and I felt like our experiences were already worth the long journey and if I had to, I could go home happy right now.
Next time: Stranded in Switzerland.
Although I’d intended for us to walk all six and a half miles of the Greenway and I studied the route carefully, we covered only somewhat more than half, from Cadenabbia to Villa Balbienello. Quality, not quantity, I am constantly reminding myself. We thoroughly enjoyed the lakeside esplanade that gives way to a route of narrow cobblestoned streets, marked by pretty churches and the occasional shy cat. We saw dogs everywhere, of course, but very few kitties! Once I recalled that there are silver medallions embedded in the pavement to indicate the path, we found our way more easily.
Lunch at Albergo Lenno, with a splendid view of the water and a handsome waiter. This country is so full of good-looking, well-dressed people!
On to Villa Balbianello and its fairytale charm. I confess that the Casino Royale connection was what attracted me. We didn’t take the house tour; I’m very interested in buildings from the outside, but not in furniture or interior design. (Thirty years later, mr fan and I are still living with the stuff we inherited from our parents, which frees us up to spend our money on travel instead of redecorating.)
After taking the ferry from Lenno back to our home base, we dined at Trattoria San Giacomo. They do not accept reservations, so we arrived promptly at the 7 pm opening and joined the others eagerly waiting along the stone steps outside. The management keeps a box of cushions on hand for potential customers, who can settle down with a drink from Apperitivo et al across the street while they wait. We scored the last available outside table and hunkered down to a hearty meal that began with a bottle of red wine and a shared appetizer of fettucine al ragu; advanced to juicy dishes of osso bucco, served with dark brown polenta; and concluded with some buttery chunks of gorgonzola. Only three days in, and I felt like our experiences were already worth the long journey and if I had to, I could go home happy right now.
Next time: Stranded in Switzerland.
Oct 3rd, 2019, 09:55 AM
#9
Original Poster
Join Date: Aug 2009
Posts: 85
Likes: 0
Received 0 Likes
on
0 Posts
I was uneasy about this daytrip to Lugano from the start and I assured mr fan that we could probably expect to get even more lost than usual. Making the connections—ferry to bus to trail to ferry to bus to ferry—felt like a dubious proposition, but the potential for adventurous fun was overwhelming. What were we here for, anyway? (Besides eating.)
So we caught the ferry to Menaggio and found our way to the C12 bus stop, enjoying a scenic ride along the winding mountain roads. In many places the street was too narrow for vehicles traveling in opposite directions to pass each other, which resulted in someone having to back up. (Our bus won all those contests.)
I’d intended to ask the driver to let us off at the stop closest to the beginning of the Olive Trail, but I didn’t like to distract him from the road and I wasn’t sure I could make it to the front of the lurching bus without falling on my face. So I took my best guess, hopping off when I spotted signs for Castagnola, which turned out to be right. There was a helpful map nearby, so we were easily oriented and on our way.
The Olive Trail is a lovely walk—you can’t really call it a hike; it’s paved and mostly flat and only takes about an hour to cover at a leisurely pace. It follows the lake and is surrounded by dense vegetation that prominently features (that’s right) olives. We were thrilled to find that the trail led directly to our restaurant, Locanda Gandrienese. For once, we didn’t have to struggle to find the address.
Here was our best meal of the entire trip, and I feel a little disloyal in saying so, since it was in Switzerland and not in Italy. All of our meals were good and some of them were great, but this one was outstanding in every aspect we could wish: beautiful setting, gracious service, and superb food. We started out with a shared appetizer of octopus, served with the yellowest potatoes we’ve ever seen, and followed by lasagna for him and rabbit served with polenta for me. Our table was on a small balcony overlooking the lake, and it was one of those memorable scenes in which you really know that you’re on vacation and you feel like all your dreams have come true.
A sweet little ferry ride around the lake followed, making stops on both sides and concluding at the city center. We then took an hour-long ramble, admiring the parks and buildings, before heading to the bus stop, where the real excitement began.
The bus stop for the C12 is near the train station and it’s not as clearly marked as one could wish, but we found it without too much difficulty. We were 20 minutes early for the 5:20—which never came. The next bus wasn’t for an hour and a half, and it was the last of the day. What if it didn’t come?
We made friends with an Italian guy who was also waiting; he asked around and learned that the 5:20 couldn’t reach our stop because of an accident that blocked the road among those narrow streets. We hadn’t any way of knowing whether the last bus would be able to get through—there were no announcements and the station’s information desk was closed for the day. And by the way, the bus stop was outdoors and it was hot and there was nowhere to sit.
I saw our options as either finding a hotel room in Lugano for the night or taking a train to Como and a cab from there—no way we’d be able to catch the last ferry to Bellagio. Neither of these choices was appealing and I was beginning to regret we’d come to Switzerland—everything had been so perfect up until now!—when the C12 suddenly appeared. Hallelujah!
Our Italian friend, who was quite amusing and reminded me of comedian/actor Roberto Benigni, had beaten our ears for the better part of two hours and he continued to entertain us once we were all safely aboard the bus. I would have liked to rejoice quietly and focus on the scenery, but he’d provided us with welcome distraction during our worried time, so I continued to pay attention to him and we exchanged cordial farewells when he exited shortly before Menaggio.
Then came another wait, this time for the ferry, but it was carefree and the beers that we drank near the ferry landing had a special savor. Once we arrived in Bellagio, we ate gelato on a bench by the water while a band played in front of one of the fancy hotels. We were so glad that we had gone to Switzerland!
Next: The slow boat to Como.
So we caught the ferry to Menaggio and found our way to the C12 bus stop, enjoying a scenic ride along the winding mountain roads. In many places the street was too narrow for vehicles traveling in opposite directions to pass each other, which resulted in someone having to back up. (Our bus won all those contests.)
I’d intended to ask the driver to let us off at the stop closest to the beginning of the Olive Trail, but I didn’t like to distract him from the road and I wasn’t sure I could make it to the front of the lurching bus without falling on my face. So I took my best guess, hopping off when I spotted signs for Castagnola, which turned out to be right. There was a helpful map nearby, so we were easily oriented and on our way.
The Olive Trail is a lovely walk—you can’t really call it a hike; it’s paved and mostly flat and only takes about an hour to cover at a leisurely pace. It follows the lake and is surrounded by dense vegetation that prominently features (that’s right) olives. We were thrilled to find that the trail led directly to our restaurant, Locanda Gandrienese. For once, we didn’t have to struggle to find the address.
Here was our best meal of the entire trip, and I feel a little disloyal in saying so, since it was in Switzerland and not in Italy. All of our meals were good and some of them were great, but this one was outstanding in every aspect we could wish: beautiful setting, gracious service, and superb food. We started out with a shared appetizer of octopus, served with the yellowest potatoes we’ve ever seen, and followed by lasagna for him and rabbit served with polenta for me. Our table was on a small balcony overlooking the lake, and it was one of those memorable scenes in which you really know that you’re on vacation and you feel like all your dreams have come true.
A sweet little ferry ride around the lake followed, making stops on both sides and concluding at the city center. We then took an hour-long ramble, admiring the parks and buildings, before heading to the bus stop, where the real excitement began.
The bus stop for the C12 is near the train station and it’s not as clearly marked as one could wish, but we found it without too much difficulty. We were 20 minutes early for the 5:20—which never came. The next bus wasn’t for an hour and a half, and it was the last of the day. What if it didn’t come?
We made friends with an Italian guy who was also waiting; he asked around and learned that the 5:20 couldn’t reach our stop because of an accident that blocked the road among those narrow streets. We hadn’t any way of knowing whether the last bus would be able to get through—there were no announcements and the station’s information desk was closed for the day. And by the way, the bus stop was outdoors and it was hot and there was nowhere to sit.
I saw our options as either finding a hotel room in Lugano for the night or taking a train to Como and a cab from there—no way we’d be able to catch the last ferry to Bellagio. Neither of these choices was appealing and I was beginning to regret we’d come to Switzerland—everything had been so perfect up until now!—when the C12 suddenly appeared. Hallelujah!
Our Italian friend, who was quite amusing and reminded me of comedian/actor Roberto Benigni, had beaten our ears for the better part of two hours and he continued to entertain us once we were all safely aboard the bus. I would have liked to rejoice quietly and focus on the scenery, but he’d provided us with welcome distraction during our worried time, so I continued to pay attention to him and we exchanged cordial farewells when he exited shortly before Menaggio.
Then came another wait, this time for the ferry, but it was carefree and the beers that we drank near the ferry landing had a special savor. Once we arrived in Bellagio, we ate gelato on a bench by the water while a band played in front of one of the fancy hotels. We were so glad that we had gone to Switzerland!
Next: The slow boat to Como.
Oct 8th, 2019, 05:29 AM
#10
Original Poster
Join Date: Aug 2009
Posts: 85
Likes: 0
Received 0 Likes
on
0 Posts
The following day was our last in the area and after our bus-related anxiety, I was rather tempted to just stay local. But mr fan, who’d been right about assuring me that we’d get to Switzerland and back in one piece, insisted that we follow my original plan, which was to take the slow boat to Como.
I had misgivings about this prospect, too. What if it was horrible? We’d be stuck on the boat for more than two hours! And once we got to the dock and bought our tickets, it turned out that the next boat wasn’t until 11:30, leaving us with two hours to kill.
Another disguised blessing: we spent the time visiting Villa Melzi, which we wouldn’t otherwise have gotten to and which I liked best of the three gardens that we checked out. Something about its layout and statues and beautiful stillness just struck me as immensely appealing.
Although we were near the front of the line for the Como boat, there were no seats on the front deck and the rear deck reeked of exhaust fumes. We sat inside, which ultimately I preferred—it was nice and cool, we were conveniently near the bar for ordering and enjoying Aperol spritzes, and the big windows provided commanding views on both sides. I probably sound like an old person, which I guess I am. The young women we chatted with later had found the slow boat insufferably dull but I loved it and would gladly have taken it in the other direction as well.
At Como we ducked into the Duomo before locating the funicolare. It was a crowded ride uphill but we were rewarded by the immediate sight of our destination, Ristorante Bellavista. And a bella vista it was, as we perched on the balcony, sharing a meal of tortelli di toma—ravioli filled with toma cheese, served with sausage, cream, and black truffle sauce, and washed down with a bottle of red wine. Afterward, we snagged standing spots in the first car of the downbound funicolare, which was much more scenic than the ride up had been.
We agreed upon taking the fast boat back to Bellagio, even though I’d read critical remarks about its being airplane-style seating and not offering the slow boat’s splendid views. I found it perfectly satisfactory.
Beforehand, we had about an hour to kill, so we hung out in the park and people-watched near the striking memorial to local hero Alessandro Volta. It’s not often that I sprawl in the grass these days but I used to do it quite a lot, so this little interlude had a nostalgic feel to it. And I was glad I’d brought my long scarf, which served as a blanket. It had also covered my shoulders in the Duomo, and during our lunch it kept the sun from further frying my already leathery hide. Let’s hear it for the versatile uses of the scarf!
Although we would have liked to have investigated the attractive restaurant at Hotel Belvedere, just a short distance from our lodgings, we were really still too stuffed for a formal meal. We’d had a fine repast on Saturday night courtesy of our hosts, who for a very reasonable fee opened their wine cellar and prepared an amazing platter of meats and cheeses, winsomely decorated with fruits and blossoms from their garden. So we had another such treat, wining and dining on our private patio, watching the sun set and the moon rise—a beautiful and tranquil conclusion to a glorious introduction to Lake Como.
I had misgivings about this prospect, too. What if it was horrible? We’d be stuck on the boat for more than two hours! And once we got to the dock and bought our tickets, it turned out that the next boat wasn’t until 11:30, leaving us with two hours to kill.
Another disguised blessing: we spent the time visiting Villa Melzi, which we wouldn’t otherwise have gotten to and which I liked best of the three gardens that we checked out. Something about its layout and statues and beautiful stillness just struck me as immensely appealing.
Although we were near the front of the line for the Como boat, there were no seats on the front deck and the rear deck reeked of exhaust fumes. We sat inside, which ultimately I preferred—it was nice and cool, we were conveniently near the bar for ordering and enjoying Aperol spritzes, and the big windows provided commanding views on both sides. I probably sound like an old person, which I guess I am. The young women we chatted with later had found the slow boat insufferably dull but I loved it and would gladly have taken it in the other direction as well.
At Como we ducked into the Duomo before locating the funicolare. It was a crowded ride uphill but we were rewarded by the immediate sight of our destination, Ristorante Bellavista. And a bella vista it was, as we perched on the balcony, sharing a meal of tortelli di toma—ravioli filled with toma cheese, served with sausage, cream, and black truffle sauce, and washed down with a bottle of red wine. Afterward, we snagged standing spots in the first car of the downbound funicolare, which was much more scenic than the ride up had been.
We agreed upon taking the fast boat back to Bellagio, even though I’d read critical remarks about its being airplane-style seating and not offering the slow boat’s splendid views. I found it perfectly satisfactory.
Beforehand, we had about an hour to kill, so we hung out in the park and people-watched near the striking memorial to local hero Alessandro Volta. It’s not often that I sprawl in the grass these days but I used to do it quite a lot, so this little interlude had a nostalgic feel to it. And I was glad I’d brought my long scarf, which served as a blanket. It had also covered my shoulders in the Duomo, and during our lunch it kept the sun from further frying my already leathery hide. Let’s hear it for the versatile uses of the scarf!
Although we would have liked to have investigated the attractive restaurant at Hotel Belvedere, just a short distance from our lodgings, we were really still too stuffed for a formal meal. We’d had a fine repast on Saturday night courtesy of our hosts, who for a very reasonable fee opened their wine cellar and prepared an amazing platter of meats and cheeses, winsomely decorated with fruits and blossoms from their garden. So we had another such treat, wining and dining on our private patio, watching the sun set and the moon rise—a beautiful and tranquil conclusion to a glorious introduction to Lake Como.
Oct 8th, 2019, 06:19 AM
#11
Join Date: Aug 2003
Posts: 1,082
Likes: 0
Received 0 Likes
on
0 Posts
Really enjoying your report. We loved Villa Melzi too for all the reasons you mention. We also really liked both the outside and the inside of Villa Balbienello. For those who might want to go inside, there are a lot of interesting displays from the collections of Count Guido Monzino (who was quite a character) as well as a unique design. Wining and dining on your private patio watching the sun set and the moon rise sounds perfect. Any pictures coming?
Jan 9th, 2020, 05:12 AM
#16
Original Poster
Join Date: Aug 2009
Posts: 85
Likes: 0
Received 0 Likes
on
0 Posts
tom, you're so very welcome! I found trip reports to be a priceless resource in planning this trip; I'm sure they saved me from many missteps as well as providing ideas that I wouldn't necessarily have found elsewhere.
I'm eager to return to the region; I'd particularly like to spend some time in Milan. Our little taste of Switzerland was very appealing, too, despite the bus-related anxiety. Although I agonized over where to stay, as I imagine most of us do, I'd say that any of the towns we visited would have made us happy, each in its own special way. Have a wonderful trip!
I'm eager to return to the region; I'd particularly like to spend some time in Milan. Our little taste of Switzerland was very appealing, too, despite the bus-related anxiety. Although I agonized over where to stay, as I imagine most of us do, I'd say that any of the towns we visited would have made us happy, each in its own special way. Have a wonderful trip!
Jan 9th, 2020, 11:41 AM
#18
Original Poster
Join Date: Aug 2009
Posts: 85
Likes: 0
Received 0 Likes
on
0 Posts
No car! Upon arrival, we took a taxi from Milan's Malpensa Airport. Our B&B hosts recommended an excellent car service ([email protected]) that many Fodorites endorse, too. Our driver, Corrado, was waiting for us in the arrivals hall, holding a sign with my name. He waited while we used an ATM, and I think we paid him in cash; I'm sure the amount was 170 euro. A bit of a splurge, but well worth it, I thought--I'm so foggy after a long flight.
For the departure, one of our hosts drove us to the ferry dock. It's a 15-minute ride to Varenna and a 10-minute walk from the dock to the train station, where we traveled to Bologna, changing trains in Milan. I was a little anxious about making those connections but everything worked out beautifully--you just have to give yourself plenty of time, if only to keep from getting too nervous.
The walk from the B&B to the dock is about 15 minutes, depending on your pace, and it's a pleasant stroll (although I wouldn't care to do it with suitcases). It's all downhill when you're headed out in the morning and all uphill on the way home at night--but after a hearty dinner, it feels good to walk around for a while. I can't recommend Villa la Rosa too highly!
For the departure, one of our hosts drove us to the ferry dock. It's a 15-minute ride to Varenna and a 10-minute walk from the dock to the train station, where we traveled to Bologna, changing trains in Milan. I was a little anxious about making those connections but everything worked out beautifully--you just have to give yourself plenty of time, if only to keep from getting too nervous.
The walk from the B&B to the dock is about 15 minutes, depending on your pace, and it's a pleasant stroll (although I wouldn't care to do it with suitcases). It's all downhill when you're headed out in the morning and all uphill on the way home at night--but after a hearty dinner, it feels good to walk around for a while. I can't recommend Villa la Rosa too highly!
