Bride Cometh Before the Fall: Bella Italia 2: Lago na U, Lapit na Me

The real highlight of going to Milan was being close to the famed northern lake district. Lago di Como, Lago Maggiore and Lago di Lugano are considered some of the most beautiful places on earth and were therefore a must-visit.

With us this time was my cousin Alden, who gamely said yes to camping with us at Lake Maggiore (the big lake) without really realizing what he was getting into. But more on that later.

The day started pretty well, it wasn't sunny but it wasn't raining either, so we were optimistic when we left the apartment. But when we got to Stresa, H realized he dropped something on the way to the lake (nothing vital like a cellphone or a license) so he got stressed and went back and forth from the car and the dock - where Alden and I were waiting, taking pictures, making light of H's own "Stresa Festival."

H having a slow breakdown.

It took 30 minutes to calm him down; that was also the amount of time it took to wait for the ferry that was going to take us island hopping in the lake. Between the towns of Stresa and Verbania are the Borromean Islands, and the most beautiful of these little islands is Isola Bella.

Isola Bella as seen from Isola dei Pescatori

We had an hour to spend on each island, and a window of 5 minutes to catch the ferry going to the next island or back to Stresa.

Photo by H

Isola dei Pescatori as seen from Isola Bella

The Palazo Borromeo in Isola Bella reminded me of the Von Trapp house in The Sound of Music. I was singing "Favorite Things" under my breath, half hoping to hear Fraulein Maria join my weak soprano.

Photo by H

Photo by Alden

When the sun came out, we became more hopeful that the rain forecast was inaccurate.

Celebrating prematurely

By midday my right shoe had given up and I needed a rubber band to keep it together. Dang.

Happy feet (as in smile ang mga suelas)

We found a camping spot next to Lake Maggiore and went swimming. Actually, I preferred to wade near the shore until the two joined forces and splashed cold water all over me. Fuh. Nee.

The swimming session was cut short because it was almost 7pm and we hadn't bought dinner yet. So after a quick shower, we went back in the car, got slices of different Italian hams and cheeses, some bread and pasta, and some bottles of beer, coke and wine.

Then we continued on our tour, and visited the other minor lakes around camp. We passed a swamp under a canopy of trees that was half covered in fog, very eerie, very Apocalypse Now. But there were cars behind us so we couldn't stop and take pictures. Just take my word for it: it was beautiful. Spectacularly and ethereally beautiful.

We were able to stop a few kilometers away, at the next town that was also slowly being covered by a mantle of fog.

And then the rain fell, and I felt like I was in the tropics again. Alden said the rain in Italy usually lasts just a few minutes, but this felt like a typhoon. On our way back the rain started to pour heavier and heavier, until we got stuck in traffic and we remembered the tents, and the towels we'd hung to dry.

At the campsite, Alden's tent was still hunky-dory but a rain-soaked towel had pushed mine and H's tent down. H ran out to save our tent from punishment, and rescue the swimsuits that had fallen from the clothesline. When he got back, we had beer, Boy Bawang, cheese and slices of ham inside the car. We also opened a bottle of pinakurat - a kind of vinegar, stinky beyond belief - to go with the vegetarian chicharon (deep fried pork skin... yes, vegetarian deep fried pork skin). If H's mom only knew what smells had been unleashed inside her car!

When the rain stopped, we cleaned our swimsuits and towels and put out a picnic spread in front of the tent for dinner.

Coaching H through laundry

Cultural exchange

That other effect of wine: bad poses.

More rain was to be had in the night, though. H said he felt like we were floating in the lake because a puddle had formed overnight under our tent, making our air mattress buoyant. And while it was not necessarily warm inside our tent, I had no idea Alden had been freezing because he didn't have a proper mattress. I though he was doing great because I could hear him singing to Bruno Mars all night and then again when I woke up in the morning. Erm... at least it was waterproof?

Raindrops falling on my tent nonetheless, I had a great sleep. I went out early in the morning when the rain stopped and saw the town across the river slowly waking up, the fog lifting and the street lights softly twinkling. The only thing that bothered me that morning was that I had to throw my old rubber shoes away. All I had left were my sandals, and we hadn't finished with the Alps yet.

We dismantled camp and went back on the road - this time crossing the border to Switzerland.

Lugano is in the Italian-speaking part of Switzerland, whose early inhabitants included Stone Age men.

After getting our fill of the lakeside town, we coasted on along and finally saw Lake Como.

A place so pretty, George Clooney bought a villa here - according to Alden.

When we started getting hungry, H was adamant that we find a nice place to stop and cook - this time, I was happy that I waited because we got the loveliest lake view ever. And it wasn't even a major lake.

The chef, caught with his hand in the Boy Bawang

Washing the dishes (with an eco-friendly product!)

For cooking and doing the dishes.

We explored the little towns next to the Como after lunch.

And found pleasant surprises.

With tired feet and weak limbs, we went back to Milan that early evening thinking, "We have to eat good this evening!" H was the most motivated to go out, but he was also the most exhausted. My excuse was I was too worn out, so Alden and I decided to do something about the leftover cheese and ham from our soggy sojourn at the lakes.