A Trombonists Guide to Europe (Part 2)

A big thank you to all who have read part one of “A Trombonists Guide to Europe” in the past few days! As promised, here is part two of my ‘epic’ journey across what is actually a very small part of Europe! I hope you enjoy it.

Dan

Part 2

Peschiera Del Garda

Sunday 26^th June 2016 (continued)

The crowds on the platform have dissipated and we find ourselves alone on the now eerily quiet station in Peschiera Del Garda. We are spending the next few days with my family who are due to be picking us up from the station. From the scant mobile phone signal we have managed to pick up we know that our lift is about an hour behind schedule and, for the time being, we will have to amuse ourselves. We can tell that the station is located outside of the town centre and, not knowing where we are, we decide the best course of action is to sit on the floor and wait.

Time passes, broken only by the rush of unseen trains sweeping past behind us and busloads of happy locals swarming back from a day out at the nearby ‘Gardaland’. Boredom and hunger overcome us. We grab our baggage and walk straight down the hill to where we are hoping the town is. However, our next problem is whether to turn left or right. To the left is a busy looking roundabout; to the right a parade of shops where surely one of them must sell food. Above us the sky is rapidly turning from bright blue to dark ominous grey and our hunt for food is, quite literally, proving fruitless. Behind us a car horn blares and several voices are shouting our names. The car pulls up and my two sisters, Amy and Sophie, and Amy’s boyfriend Dale pile out the back and embrace us. With the group hug over, my Mum and Dad take our baggage and head to our accommodation while the five of us continue hunting for food. My family have spent the last three days in the car driving from Torbay (South Devon) to Peschiera via East Kent and France; it is with stiff legs that they follow us into a small pizza restaurant. As we settle into the plastic seats in the aging but comfortable room, a thunder clap booms above us and reverberates all around. Torrents of water, more powerful and vicious than what we witnessed in Venice, shudder down and drown out our conversation. Eventually the rain eases and for a time we sit and watch the storm, swapping stories of our journeys up to this point. Finally, we have eaten as much pizza as we could possibly consume and so make our way to the rendezvous point where my Dad collects us and drives us to our accommodation. The seven of us are staying in a complex of housing, split across two flats and divided by two exceptionally inviting swimming pools. There is, however, no thought of swimming this evening as we are all exhausted so we take the only option we can; we bid each other goodnight and head to bed.

Monday 27^th June 2016

It is with great effort that I manage to get out of bed and face the bright blue morning. It is only 10am but the mercury is already showing 30 degrees and, with the sky cloudless, it can only get hotter. My lethargy is in part due to an interrupted night’s sleep during which Steph and I were found peering out of our window watching an electrical storm in the distant mountains. As a result, the air feels clearer this morning and I grab my flip flops and follow the rest of the family down to the pool. As I float along on my back, doing nothing but reflect on the open flowing scenery around us and the contrast it provides to the compact streets of Venice, a football lands square on my belly. I don’t know who threw it but this means war! Sometime later, dried and dressed, I am hobbling along trying to keep up with the group who are making their way down the hill towards the town. I won’t bore you with the gruesome details but I’m struggling to walk due to an infection in my foot which is causing much merriment to the rest of the party. Still, I battle on and eventually we arrive in town in the cooling early afternoon.

Peschiera is dominated by a mighty fifteenth century fortress around which the town has grown and spread. After exploring the water front and soaking up the views across the lake we settle down in a quaint bistro in a Piazzale Cesare Betteloni overlooking the water. My parents decide to carry on exploring while the five of us settle down for drinks and watch Italy play Spain at Euro 2016. We are surrounded by a large crowd of very passionate Italian fans; the crowd buzzes as Italy win. We settle down for dinner and ask the friendly waiter, Giannaro, if we can have the England game on. He agrees and changes the channel just as Iceland equalise. As the ball hits the back of the net we realise we are a very small minority of England supporters and, just as Iceland score to make it 2-1, my Dad calls to ask if we want rescuing. We finish our drink and during half-time we dash to meet him, spending the whole of the journey dissecting the first half of the match. We all agree that England will not win and decide to play cards instead yet, as my mum comes through the door with drinks for us, we are sat glued to the TV still watching as England are knocked out! Still, why let football ruin a good holiday?

Tuesday 28^th June 2016

Spending time lazing in a swimming pool during the heat of the Italian summer is one of the finest ways of passing the time. Once more, our morning had been spent relaxing together in the pool and we are now back in the gorgeous town of Peschiera. We are exploring more parts of the town today and finding it to be a complex network of side streets, not dissimilar to Venice, although more open and spacious. At this point my sisters want to go dress shopping so, as they head off with Mum and Dale, Steph, Dad and I continue exploring the old military buildings around the fortress. It seems that Peschiera has, historically, been of great strategic importance and has seen action in many conflicts. Now, though, it is far more tranquil and the three of us slowly walk along the tree lined waterfront. Everywhere we look is beauty, from the view over the vast open space of the lake to the distant mountains, to the immaculately kept town with flowers in every available space. In the moat surrounding the fortress a heron is fishing, ducks are swimming and all is peaceful. The tranquillity of this town is such that you can simply stop and, despite people continuing their day to day lives around you, you can switch off from the world and simply relax.

Having had another session in the swimming pool, I am now in the navigator’s chair of the car monitoring the road map and ignoring the satnav of which I have a great distrust. In the driver’s seat Dad is trying to follow the satnav but trusting me as I frequently disagree with it. As we sweep down the Via XXV Aprile and past a line of parked Ferraris, we arrive at Sirmione. This is another beautiful town, located on the tip of a peninsula jutting out into the calm cool waters of Lake Garda. As we pull up we watch the sun set over the hills and mountains to the west. We sit and enjoy the sights and (very few) sounds of this amazing place.

Wednesday 29^th June 2016

As the crowd swells, I am struggling to hold my ground near the front of the queue. Steph, Amy, Sophie, Dale and I have come to the local theme park ‘Gardaland’ and, as the clock ticks towards 10am, the anticipation and excitement among those around us is palpable. We have been up since 7am and, following a very cramped shuttle bus ride, we are now waiting for the park to open. A canon blast ricochets around the surrounding buildings and I look up to the top of the entrance. The Italian flag is being raised and the National Anthem being sung with great gusto by the hoards around us. We have no idea what the words are but the enthusiasm is infectious and we join in with the tune. As it comes to a stop, the gates open and we head in. Now I have something of a love/hate relationship with theme parks; I hate queuing and I hate ‘big’ rollercoasters that go upside down or preposterously high and steep drops. Equally I love the enthusiasm and the atmosphere; I love experiencing the sights of the rides, the smell of the fast food booths, and I love spending time with my friends and family in this type of environment.

In the first part of the morning we try to get these ‘big’ rides out of the way! We get onto the ‘Mammut’ runaway train ride, attend the Ice Age 4D show, and I look after the bags while the others ride ‘Blue Tornado’ and ‘Oblivion’. Slightly bruised, we exit the Kung Fu Panda Ride and have lunch. Refreshed and reenergised, I choose the next ride and slow things down by going on the park Monorail. I am joined in the bag ‘monitor’ role by Dale while the girls ride ‘Magic Mountain’ before we head up to ‘Colorado Boat’ log flume. As we queue we can see the ride in action and, worryingly, we witness three boats come loose and beach on the side.  This causes, quite literally, a log jam. Understandably the ride is closed and we move on to take on ‘Ramses: Il Risveglio’ a cart based shooting game on which, unsurprisingly, Dale set the high score. As the sun was now at its hottest, we decided the time was ripe for my personal favourite which is the water rides. After riding ‘Fuga da Atlantide’, I stepped off ‘Jungle Rapids’ soaked through to the skin. Fortunately, the others don’t stay dry for long and we ride the reopened ‘Colorado Boat’; we are all dripping wet before we are even half way round. While Amy and Steph ride ‘Raptor’, Sophie, Dale and I had one last go on ‘Ramses’ before we finished the day on the park train.

Thursday 30^th June 2016

Exhausted after an eight hour stay in the theme park yesterday I have, once more, spent the morning relaxing in the cool clear swimming pool listening to the adventure Mum and Dad had while we were in Gardaland. They had taken a cruise from Pescheira to a town near the top of the lake, approximately forty five miles away, and were going to go back by car today to explore further.

So, once again in the navigator’s seat, I am arguing with the Satnav and directing Dad up the west side of the lake towards Limone Sul Garda. This little town possesses a beauty very different to that of Venice and Peschiera. Settled on the banks of the lake, and surrounded by vast imposing cliffs, it feels like there is no other life around for miles upon miles. As the name suggests the town’s economy has historically been built around the growing of lemons and, as a consequence, the tangy yellow fruit can be seen all around us. The town itself possesses architecture of style and simplicity and exudes an air of peace and relaxation. We sit on the water front watching the ducks swimming and the boats slowly slipping past. After sampling the town’s pizza we head up the narrow cobbled streets towards the higher part of town. Hidden among the houses is the beautiful Parrocchia, a seventeenth century Catholic Church, with staggering views across the lake.

We head back to the car and Sophie takes over in the navigator’s seat. We are heading back around the east side of the Lake and, as it is one straight road to Pescheira, Dad doesn’t need a navigator. We pass through more beautiful towns, including Riva Del Garda, Linfano and Torbole, before winding back onto the main road alongside the lake. As the sun sets behind the mountains, the lights of Limone twinkle in the distance and poignantly highlight the church on the hill. The mood changes as Sophie announces her reason for sitting in the front; the CD changes, her mobile phone comes out and to “I get around” by the Beach Boys we record our very own carpool karaoke. Unfortunately for the reader, this video is no longer accessible but I’m sure you can imagine the quality and musicality of the singing that evening!! We head back into Peschiera and, in the distance, we can see another lightning storm approaching. In the flat Steph and I are at the window watching as the light skips and flashes across the sky, illuminating the mountains in the distance.

Friday 1^st July 2016

Once again I am sat on the floor on Peschiera station! Despite the storm of last night, the humidity and temperature are the highest they have been. We are waiting for our train to Verona but this is currently displaying as delayed. While Dad and I excitedly watch the big Venice – Milan trains snorting through the platforms, the girls and Dale are sat in the shade; their faces betray their boredom. Soon, however, the Trenord ‘Regio’ train pulls into the station and we make our way in to the cool air conditioned carriages. Before too long the train arrives at Verona Porto Nuova station. We walk steadily up the Corso Porto Nuova, under the town clock, and stop to relax in the shade of some trees next to the Arena di Verona where they are preparing for the opera season. As we sit, enormous Knights march past wielding huge blades; they are preparing to do battle that evening. Eventually we move on and, after exploring the outside of the Arena, we make our way down the crowded city streets. We stop in shops partly to look at the items but also to benefit from the air conditioning!! Rounding a corner, we enter the Piazza Del Erbe where crowds of people are shopping in a bustling market. We sit for a while soaking in the atmosphere and taking in the beautiful city surrounding us. A sign on the wall reveals we are very near to Juliet’s balcony so we stand up, stretch our legs, and make our way along the winding streets. The huge crowds jostling for position tell us we are in the right place and, as we make our way to the front, we see the small stone balcony jutting out from the fourteenth century ‘Cassa di Juliette’ that is attracting all the attention. I have read many different theories and stories behind this particular piece of stonework, all of which I find as compelling as the last. It is clear that everyone here finds this a significant place; the love notes scrawled on the walls, the endless line of people taking photographs and a queue to see Juliet’s statue. As we approach, Dale and I notice everyone doing the same thing; they are all touching the statue’s right breast as they stand next to it. We learn from someone that to touch this supposedly brings you good luck; the pair of us should now have enough luck to last a lifetime!!! Leaving the crowds behind, we slowly make our way back to Porto Nuova station where we clamber onto the train back to Peschiera. For Steph and I, this is our last night in this beautiful town so the seven of us decide to go out for dinner together. We spend the evening at the ‘Caffe Centrale’, a restaurant where the outside seating is located on a barge floating on the water between the town and the fortress. The meal was delicious and a truly fitting way to end our time together in this beautiful place.

Saturday 2^nd July 2016

The alarm cuts harshly through the still morning, reluctantly rousing me from my sleep. With all the effort I can muster, I get up and set about ready to leave. Our flight back to England is at 10am, so another early start. The generosity of my Dad is required to get us to Verona Villafranca Airport on time. We meet Dad at the gate of their flat where I say my goodbyes to my family before we set off. We find the airport easily enough and we bid farewell to my Dad and watch as he heads back to Peschiera. The rest of the family have more adventures to come and tomorrow they will be heading off to Austria and then Germany.

For us though the holiday has come to an end! We sit in the airport, once more clad in jeans, among fellow travellers wearing shorts and sunhats. They are overly optimistic though; it is the height of summer in Britain and it will therefore be raining when we return! The airport is much smaller than Gatwick and large breakfasts are not an option here; so we take this opportunity to have one last slice of ‘proper’ Italian pizza. The shuttle bus arrives at the gate and transports us to Monarch flight ZB1923 heading back to Britain. Once again, I grip into the arms of my seat as the Airbus A321 roars down the runway and off into the blue Italian sky. As we sit in the quiet plane of sleepy passengers, I reflect on what has been an absolutely brilliant holiday. I have been fortunate enough to visit some truly beautiful towns and cities, met some wonderful people, and sampled fantastic food.

Breaking through the cloud over Sussex, we begin our descent into Gatwick. After collecting our bags, we stand at the door of the airport. With Italy in our hearts and memories, we step forward out into the rain.