by Nigel Heath
Brooding peaks appeared and disappeared out of the swirling mist as our tour bus headed arrow like down the pass through the Western Alps towards Turin.
A red rear brake warning light was concerning our driver, so he pulled into a side bay stopped and switched of the engine and all the friendly chatting among fellow passengers suddenly faded.
While the driver was on the phone to his engineer, our Great Railway Journeys tour guide, Mike, began counting the stationary minutes. We were about an hour from journey’s end and after a swift check in at our city centre hotel, it was a five-minute crocodile walk to a nearby restaurant, where dinner for had been booked for 7pm.
How long before he would have to call the restaurant and as a last resort book thirty takeaway pizzas, he wondered.
Fortunately, quick diagnostic checks were made, and our driver was satisfied all was safe to proceed.
All in a day’s work for Mike who had met us all at St Pancras Station at 5.00am that morning and shepherded us on and off our Eurostar London to Paris service, through the busy mostly case-carrying crowd and across Paris by coach to Gare de Lyon and safely into our booked first-class seats on the train to Chambery.
A piano playing the haunting tune of Amalie was echoing around the far quieter concourse on our arrival in Chambery as we made our way out to another waiting coach for our onward journey to Turin and it gave me a real thrill to know that my wife, Jenny, and I were setting out on another holiday adventure.
Following the red light incident all went swiftly according to plan and after a most enjoyable getting-to-know-you evening and a much needed night’s rest and hearty breakfast in our quality hotel we were stepping outside with the whole morning to explore the vibrant heart of Turin, a stately place of fine parades and squares and beautiful heritage architecture built by the wealthy merchants of this historically prosperous city.
Someone had pointed out a nearby street leading directly to the famous River Po and down onto a wide waterside promenade where we stopped for a coffee.
The sweeping views out across the water to the far bank reminded me of others namely those in Saltzburg and Vienna.
Early that afternoon we regrouped and boarded a train for the last leg of our rail journey a further three hours to reach our holiday base destination of Desenzano del Garda, the largest town on the lake where we checked into a comfortable hotel just a couple of minutes away and tucked into a group supper.
The following day we were free to wander and that started with a big surprise when we climbed up to the town’s 11th century castle only to find that the whole of its interior had been invaded by a giant Lego exhibition!
Making our way down through a maze of small streets and squares we came out onto a wide promenade. It was running as far as the eye could see to the north beyond the old lighthouse and jetty and 16th century stone harbour with the old town a jumble of colourful three-storey houses rising up the sloping hillside behind.
Looking south it was only about a twenty-minute walk to the end of the prom where the lake shore curved, so we headed off in that direction and came upon a modern two-storey restaurant with wide views out across the water and a very tempting menu and were quickly enticed inside for an outstanding seafood lunch.
Later we joined all the other promenaders strolling back towards the town and, settling ourselves at a cafe table looking out over the enclosed stone harbour crammed full of launches, we ordered small lagers and enjoyed some people watching.
Much later we found a restaurant in a busy square surrounded by a myriad of cafes and bars with hundreds of locals and holidaymakers out socialising and ordered a fresh pasta with fungi dish and glasses of rich red wine and then it was time to find our way back up to the hotel.
Venice was our Sunday destination after a short walk up to the station and a ninety-minute first class rail journey to step out of the busy station and around the corner and onto a ferry for a thirty-minute cruise across the water to land us close to St Mark’s Square.
This was my first visit to the world-famous “floating” city but having already seen so many pictures of its famous landmarks including St Mark’s Square the iconic Doges Palace and the Bridge of Sighs and numerous narrow canals with humpback bridges and gondoliers it was hardly going to be a surprise and indeed it wasn’t.
Our guide dispensed a feast of interesting facts as we weaved our two-hour way through a host of squares, alleys and over numerous canal bridges, some off the beaten track, until we returned at last to that famous square teaming with fellow sightseers.
Here she left us with a little local advice: “Beyond the next bridge there is a narrow ally and if you go down there you will find a small square with a popular tapas bar,” she instructed, and so we did and enjoyed one of the most memorable hours of the entire trip.
For we managed to grab two free chairs outside the bar and Jenny soon returned with glasses of wine and a wooden platter full of savoury snacks and we got into a lively conversation with a couple of Italian guys.
It was then that an accordionist came by and serenaded us with a few verses of what I remember as Just One Cornetto.
Later that afternoon we returned from whence we had come and arrived back at the hotel in good time for supper.
The following Monday morning we marched back down through the town and just caught the 10.05 am boat across the water to Bardolino in the nick of time.
This was our first introduction to the highly efficient ferry services, which link all the picturesque and historic towns up down and across Lake Garda and they all appeared to have one aspect in common, namely their beginnings as small harbours for the conduct of trade.
From this nucleus, which you can clearly see as you approach the shoreline, fortifications and churches followed as the towns slowly spread uphill and extended out along the water’s edge.
Bardolino was a case in point in the ingenious way some of its historic old buildings had been built onto and absorbed within the later extensions.
We spent a happy day wandering around and having lunch by the water with ducks instead of sparrows pecking up crumbs from around our feet before it was time to leave.
Tuesday was market day and we spent an enjoyable morning browsing before joining a group organised boat trip out to the picturesque private family-owned Isola del Garda, the largest island in the lake, once housing a monastery and visited by St Francis of Assisi.
Today it is dominated by a large period house and surrounded by gardens and iconic Cypress trees.
Wednesday was a free day so we hopped on a train for a twenty-minute ride into the famous Romeo and Juliet town of Verona and wandered up to the square dominated by the iconic 2,000-year-old amphitheatre which can seat 30,000 only to find it filled with dozens of police motorcyclists about to escort hundreds of cyclist on an epic four-day ride to Florence in Tuscany.
One of their smartly dressed senior officers took a few moments off to explain the ride to me and then with a mighty and throaty roar they were off.
Jenny and a fellow traveller, Tracey, climbed up to the top of the ancient amphitheatre for a magnificent view, while I sunbathed further down.
We had already visited the fabled Romeo and Juliet balcony, so after a light lunch in a shady restaurant we headed back to the station for our twenty-minute ride back to Desenzano.
A boat trip across the lake to a neighbouring harbour had been arranged for the following morning, but Jenny and I decided that we were all tripped-out and decided to have a quiet day before beginning the three-day train and coach trip home to London.
