Como
Ahhh, Lake Como.
The first month of our trip, in Paris, was still (to a large extent) "work mode." We had pretty clear schedules and a lot of work that we wanted to get done. After all, we were "living" there and each have a number of goals that we want to accomplish by the time we get home. Great.
But there was a bit missing, at least for me. I never quite felt like I was on "island time" (as my father would say). Now there is some internal debate here as to whether Lake Como helped me let go of the future and embrace the moment, or whether my brain's shift allowed me to find Lake Como. A tough question and one I shall answer perhaps another time. For now, be content with discovering Lake Como, as I was.
The approach to Menaggio (the village in which we stayed) started at the city of Como itself (to which we took a train from Milano). Hurtling up the west side of the lake, we could see Switzerland out the left window (despite rumours it does not sheen with gilded gold) and from the right, villages tucked into the alps speckled the coast. Most buildings were a pastel of pinks, yellows, and oranges on the walls and very typical Italian red terracotta shingles atop.
The whole lake was "charming" in a way that seemed uncorrupted despite centuries of being a tourism/vacation retreat. Perhaps its remoteness has proven a barrier to the overly casual tour-and-photo tourist, preserving taste. Whatever the reason, it generally lacked the garish-ness of mega-tourism (though it still had some of the usual Italian garishness in places)... a stark departure from Milano. Menaggio bustled with local activity, and the tourists largely-speaking seemed to be staying for a bit longer and were there to get their fingers in the mud, get food at the grocery, and relax during the day with cappucinno.
We were generously hosted by Heather's parents, who had rented a place on the hills of Menaggio. Below are some dreadfully inadequate panoramics of the view from the back porch. This is what we saw upon waking and just before sleep (it was, of course, dark just before sleep but there was no way I was going to get a photo of any consequence).
Days were slow and here I was largely forced to let go of my penchant for planning. This happens every now and then (Nantucket, Tahoe), but typically I have seen it as a departure from my more legitimate existence rather than an integral part of it (really, planning should consume only a fairly small portion of life, or else one is doing it poorly, no?). Even in my first trip to Nantucket, I spent a large part of it planning Puerto Rico... and once I got to Puerto Rico, plans fell apart and I spent most of it trying to fight fires back in the US that I pretended to have left behind. I was only going through the motions, in the end.
We took a day to hike up one of the local peaks. We had above us the reward of the most spectacular view of the lake (and of the nearby lake in Switzerland)
To think I once took pride in being told that I "live in the future." Alas, if that future never comes then one never ends up really living at all, does he? My brain will fight to be distracted for a very long time, I think. What an irony it would be if I started spending my time fretting over when I would finally stop letting my mind distract me too much, but it's an easy trap to fall into. I've been told to "live slower" and I reject that, as I don't wish to sacrifice quantity for quality. But, ah, I don't think I need to. A more attentive mind can have both.
I think the next challenge here is to be able to apprciate the uniqueness and beauty of Cambridge, MA and wherever I go to site next as I did Lake Como. To be in love with one's present life without having to fly across an ocean to do it--there is something to aspire to.
Below are pictures from the hike:
Ahhh, Lake Como.
The first month of our trip, in Paris, was still (to a large extent) "work mode." We had pretty clear schedules and a lot of work that we wanted to get done. After all, we were "living" there and each have a number of goals that we want to accomplish by the time we get home. Great.
But there was a bit missing, at least for me. I never quite felt like I was on "island time" (as my father would say). Now there is some internal debate here as to whether Lake Como helped me let go of the future and embrace the moment, or whether my brain's shift allowed me to find Lake Como. A tough question and one I shall answer perhaps another time. For now, be content with discovering Lake Como, as I was.
The approach to Menaggio (the village in which we stayed) started at the city of Como itself (to which we took a train from Milano). Hurtling up the west side of the lake, we could see Switzerland out the left window (despite rumours it does not sheen with gilded gold) and from the right, villages tucked into the alps speckled the coast. Most buildings were a pastel of pinks, yellows, and oranges on the walls and very typical Italian red terracotta shingles atop.
The whole lake was "charming" in a way that seemed uncorrupted despite centuries of being a tourism/vacation retreat. Perhaps its remoteness has proven a barrier to the overly casual tour-and-photo tourist, preserving taste. Whatever the reason, it generally lacked the garish-ness of mega-tourism (though it still had some of the usual Italian garishness in places)... a stark departure from Milano. Menaggio bustled with local activity, and the tourists largely-speaking seemed to be staying for a bit longer and were there to get their fingers in the mud, get food at the grocery, and relax during the day with cappucinno.
We were generously hosted by Heather's parents, who had rented a place on the hills of Menaggio. Below are some dreadfully inadequate panoramics of the view from the back porch. This is what we saw upon waking and just before sleep (it was, of course, dark just before sleep but there was no way I was going to get a photo of any consequence).
Lake Como from the Porch
Days were slow and here I was largely forced to let go of my penchant for planning. This happens every now and then (Nantucket, Tahoe), but typically I have seen it as a departure from my more legitimate existence rather than an integral part of it (really, planning should consume only a fairly small portion of life, or else one is doing it poorly, no?). Even in my first trip to Nantucket, I spent a large part of it planning Puerto Rico... and once I got to Puerto Rico, plans fell apart and I spent most of it trying to fight fires back in the US that I pretended to have left behind. I was only going through the motions, in the end.
We took a day to hike up one of the local peaks. We had above us the reward of the most spectacular view of the lake (and of the nearby lake in Switzerland)
To think I once took pride in being told that I "live in the future." Alas, if that future never comes then one never ends up really living at all, does he? My brain will fight to be distracted for a very long time, I think. What an irony it would be if I started spending my time fretting over when I would finally stop letting my mind distract me too much, but it's an easy trap to fall into. I've been told to "live slower" and I reject that, as I don't wish to sacrifice quantity for quality. But, ah, I don't think I need to. A more attentive mind can have both.
I think the next challenge here is to be able to apprciate the uniqueness and beauty of Cambridge, MA and wherever I go to site next as I did Lake Como. To be in love with one's present life without having to fly across an ocean to do it--there is something to aspire to.
Below are pictures from the hike:
From the Way Up
From the Way Up
The Pangles Survey the Landscape
From the Way Up
From the Way Up. Menaggio below.
From very near the top. Alps to the right. "Refuge" to the left.
Looking down, from the Refuge.
Secondary Peak.
Panoramic from Secondary Peak. Lake on the Right is in Switzerland.
Heather, below the primary peak.
Heather, in front of Lake Como.
Heather, in front of Lake Como.
Erik, in front of Lake Como.
Como (right) and peak (left).
Madonna, on the secondary peak, just as she is EVERYWHERE in Italy.
Heather, in front of Lake Como.
Heather, in front of Lake Como.
Heather, in front of Lake Como.
Heather, in front of Lake Como.
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