travel

Northern Italian Dreams: A beautiful lake, snow-capped mountains and german tourists in Riva del Garda

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Palm-lined avenues and houses draped in bougainvillea, majestic mountains, silky-smooth gelato, turquoise waters and German tourists. Along the shores of Lake Garda in northern Italy, close to the Alps, a string of little holiday towns draws visitors well into autumn.

Surrounded by majestic mountains with snow on their peaks, Lake Garda lies like a smooth mirror of turquoise and deep blue. White clouds hover on the horizon, sunlight dances on the water like a thousand glittering shards of glass, and every now and then a passenger boat docks in the harbour. Palm trees sway in the gentle breeze, and luxuriant bougainvillea covers the walls of the houses. People crowd the outdoor terraces over cups of coffee, ice cream, beer or plates of pasta. The sun is warm, and lavish flowerbeds overflow with colourful blooms.

It is hard to believe that it is already late October.

My Finnish friend has been to Riva del Garda more than ten times or so – she loves the place. This is my first visit, but its appeal is easy to understand. The town is not very big, although some of its houses climb the hillside, where a round stone tower watches over the town and the bay. Adventurous visitors can hike up, but there is also a lift, and the caves are another popular attraction. My friend has booked the hotel, about a 25-minute walk from the centre but close to the lake, with an absolutely wonderful breakfast buffet: everything is organic, with plenty of vegan options. There is also a spa, with a hammam, an outdoor pool, a Finnish sauna (!) and morning yoga classes. My friend joins a yoga session while I enjoy a lie-in one morning.

Shopping in the old town.
A lavish breakfast at the hotel.


There is not really all that much to do in Riva, but sometimes simply soaking up the beautiful views and wandering around town is enough.
One day it rains, so we go shopping and visit Reptiland, a sort of zoo with exotic snakes, spiders, the occasional scorpion and a couple of geckos. Cobras, pythons and black mambas are among the species, and the owner, Stefano, enthusiastically shows us around the terrariums. But when he excuses himself and returns with a bunch of keys, we suspect that he wants to open some of the enclosures for a closer encounter with their inhabitants. My friend wants to leave.

There is a small medieval castle here, Rocca di Riva, unfortunately closed on the Monday when we visit. On the slopes of Monte Rocchetta, about 130 metres above the town, stands the Bastione. This round stone tower was built by the Venetians in 1507–1508 to protect the town. You can walk up or take the panoramic lift.

There are also a great many German tourists. Lake Garda is reasonably close to Germany, making it a popular destination – so much so that most waiters and hotel staff speak German, and many shops have signs in the language. During our three days here, we encounter a Danish family, a few Finns, a couple of French visitors, two British groups and possibly an American. The rest, as I said, come from the country to the north.

One evening, we head out for dinner among the illuminated little lanes and houses of the old town, joining a long queue for a table at a restaurant. The food – ravioli filled with ricotta and sage in a butter sauce, and lasagne, accompanied by an Italian Moretti beer and the local white wine – is everything we could wish for.


Another evening, a strong wind whips up high waves on the lake. We pass a beach where cheerful tourists (probably German) are swimming and shrieking in the waves. The velvety dusk wraps around us like a blanket, and a dog barks somewhere far away. October darkness falls, and the moon hangs like a bright white lamp above the lake and the town. Somewhere in the distance, we catch the sound of melancholy music.
It is late October, but there is summer in the air.

Beautiful evening views of the lake and mountains.

Romance and Time travel in Verona

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Beautiful medieval palaces, houses in pale pastel colours, some adorned with Renaissance paintings, and a church with a sarcophagus that seems partly suspended in mid-air. Piping-hot pizzas covered in thick layers of mozzarella, freshly gathered truffles, Juliet’s balcony and the world’s oldest library. Verona is a fairy-tale city full of hidden gems and tucked-away alleyways, where everything breathes history and romance.

The bronze angel stands outside the cathedral on Piazza Duomo as we turn a street corner. Its arms are outstretched in welcome, its face bathed in sunshine. Shadows play across the square, lined with hotels, beautiful buildings and the entrance to what is said to be the world’s oldest library. The angel’s eyes gaze downwards and beyond us, its wings spread behind its back. There is something strangely timeless about the scene.

The beautiful angel, more than two metres tall and known as Angelo dell’Accoglienza, or the “Angel of Welcome”, is the work of contemporary sculptor and glass artist Albano Poli. Yet the site’s history stretches back more than 2,000 years, from Roman houses with private baths and a Christian basilica built in the fourth century to the present church, consecrated in 1187 after the earthquake of 1117. A little like Verona itself, revealing faces both old and new, where fiction and reality float side by side above the streets, like the multicoloured fragments of glass in a kaleidoscope.

We arrive by train in the evening, with dusk already fallen. I have travelled from Cannes in France, via Ventimiglia and Milan, while my friend has come from Venice. We have time for a walk through the old quarters, where pizzerias, trattorias, osterias and cafés line the streets beneath the dark night sky. The ancient Roman amphitheatre, Arena di Verona, built in the first century AD and predating the Colosseum in Rome, is beautifully illuminated. White tents offering wines from different vineyards, cheeses, biscuits, pastries, sausages and hams, mortadella and white and black truffles line the square. Some sort of food market is under way.


We eat homemade pizza at a local restaurant before walking back towards the hotel along the river. In the distance, the red-brick Ponte di Castelvecchio, also known as Ponte Scaligero, and the battlemented Castelvecchio castle rise above the city. Both were built in 1354–1356 on the orders of Verona’s ruler, Cangrande II della Scala. The bridge gave him an escape route across the River Adige in the event of an uprising in the city. It was blown up by retreating German troops in 1945 but rebuilt after the war.


It is, of course, Shakespeare’s romantic tragedy Romeo and Juliet that draws so many tourists to Verona. You can stroll over to Juliet’s balcony and leave a love letter or buy a Romeo and Juliet souvenir. But for anyone willing to go against the flow, there is so much more to discover in this fascinating city. Beautiful palaces, leafy courtyards, grand buildings and churches lie hidden among its winding lanes and streets. We descend a few flights of steps below ground to explore the remains and foundations of the great Roman temple that once stood here. At the ticket desk sits one of the archaeologists who actually helped excavate parts of the temple in the 1990s. Delighted by our interest, he happily tells us what it was like to dig here more than 30 years ago and what they found.

Beautifully painted façades in central Verona.
The sarcophagus outside one of the city’s largest churches.


Back in the sunshine, we pass buildings on Piazza delle Erbe whose façades are covered in Renaissance paintings from the sixteenth century, and the Gothic Basilica di Sant’Anastasia. Here, the sarcophagus in which the powerful nobleman Guglielmo da Castelbarco has rested since 1320 seems to float high in the air, perched on an archway. We wander past shops, restaurants, lively bars and cosy cafés, eventually finding ourselves on Piazza Duomo, home to the oldest library.

And here the majestic angel keeps watch in the sunshine, forever welcoming visitors to Verona and solitary wanderers, its hands reaching out into eternity.