Sirmione We awoke under the trees, under a clear blue sky, and under the impression we had gone to heaven. Lake Garda is like that. It flatters to deceive. Neath the startling aquamarine it is a muddy pond. Warm - yes; organic - undoubtedly; popular - unbelievably so. Such is its power that frontage is astronomical. If your budget doesnt extend that far then you can grab enough room to spread your beach towel for free. I wore my newly purchased swim shoes. Clear plastic see through; much like the ones my Mum bought for me every Summer. I looked like a very camp Beau Brummel at Brighton Pavilion. I walked like a tart and my bum looked enormous. Like a well upholstered settee Jackie said. Once submerged I began to relax. The last time I wore transparent footwear was Lower Largo beach, summer of 63. Lake Garda was a vast improvement. Supper at 6 left us free to drive the 35 kilometres into Verona to find a camp spot prior to meeting our kids, Lachlan and Rowan the next morning. We parked alongside the massive Roman walls at the Porte Palio. As it turned out, it would be our home for the next five days. Well it was free; and such an easy walk to town. Pizza, and a walk through the Piazza Bra, whilst we speculated on how long it would take my swim shoes to reach the Northern shore of Lago Garda, was the perfect curtain call. Nights candles are burned out; and jocund day stands tiptoe on the far off mountain top Its what time?
Posted on: Fri, 19 Sep 2014 18:47:49 +0000
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