Zurich – Como

I was wondering how things would change between the accuracy and neatness of Switzerland to the laissez fair of Italy when we were on the same train. I didn’t have to wait long for an answer.

Our train stopped at the foot of the alps for no apparent reason and with none given. We sat and sat. Up ahead I watched a chap seeming to chat to the train driver but about what is unknown. Perhaps they were mates and were discussing the ridiculous reindeer hat worn by Princess Beatrice at the wedding. It’s impossible to say. We sat there for 20 minutes.

The man at the front of the train

But I’m getting a long way ahead of myself. Our day started somewhat prematurely at 6am when one member of the hotel staff decided it was the right time to unpack and build the garden furniture directly below our window.

Now, maybe most people don’t open the windows of their hotel rooms but we find it very difficult to sleep in the foul reminder of our exhalations and much prefer the relief and relative freshness of a natural wind. The problem with this is that when the room overlooks an atrium full of garden furniture that has been covered with plastic to protect it from the elements and breakfast begins at 6:30am, there is going to be some noise when the preparations get under way.

Mirinda managed to let the guy know what the time was but he just said it was time (or something equally obscure) and continued on his merry noisy way. We had planned to wake up at 8:30 so this was particularly irksome.

We left the hotel at 10:30 having managed a little more sleep and heard about the killing of Osama bin Laden which I reckon is just fodder for the conspiracy theorists. I mean why bury the body at sea before anyone got a good look? Why kill him rather than wound him so he could stand some sort of trial for his horrific crimes? I do wonder why the authorities leave themselves so open sometimes.

I thought the crowds cheering and jumping up and down outside the White House looked strangely reminiscent of other more Asian celebrations of the recent past. I guess we’re not all that different really.

But there was none of that in Zurich. We managed to find the platform and board the train with some wonderful bretzels (they were just like the pretzels yesterday but the bag said ‘bretzels’) for breakfast and a lovely coffee. We settled back into our seats which were almost as good as the ones from Paris to Zurich except that my seat had one next to it, just waiting for a mad Italian woman.

The train set off following the edge of Lake Zurich, captured relentlessly by the couple in the seats over the aisle from us on their camera. That’s going to be some very interesting video.

We pulled into Arte-somewhere and I watched as the doors opened and my mad Italian woman leapt aboard, bowling over as many passengers trying to get off as possible. This also included the four army guys, one of whom was holding a machine gun. He fascinated Mirinda to the extent that she took a photo of him. He looked about 16 and occasionally pointed the gun at her.

Here they are about to leave. The guy with the gun has stood up and his mate is staring at the barrel, worried it may go off.

Swiss army guys on the train

My mad Italian woman was more than a match for some young whippers-napper with a popgun. She just ignored him. She plonked her stuff in the chair next to mine and took no notice of anyone else. Once everyone had calmed down and managed to get off the train then a new lot of passengers climbed aboard, she went and chatted to a guy who appeared to be her bus driver son.

She was convinced I was Italian and chatted to me a few times. I nodded and said si a few times which possibly fooled her but I really had no idea what she was talking about. At one point she chatted to the train guard and then turned to me to explain what she’d been asking. From her miming it appeared she wanted to know when the plane would be taking off.

As we climbed higher into the alpine regions so the rail efficiency of the Swiss became replaced by the strange system employed by the Italians. For instance, the guard stopped announcing the stations so we had no idea when we’d be arriving or where next. Of course I knew our scheduled time of arrival – 2:15 – but after the hold up by the strange guy, who knew what time we’d get there. A chance glance out of the window while we sat in a station helped me no end.

Station indicator

So we had one more stop and we were 20 minutes late. Perfect. As soon as we left Chiasso (that left us about 5 minutes) I was up out of my seat and ready to jump. Jumping wasn’t necessary but I managed to get off and waited while Mirinda left the other end of the carriage. I had to get the luggage from the wrong end of the carriage so was at the other end. Anyway, we managed to get off the train at Como as planned.

The walk down to our luxury apartment was long and sweaty and took about 13 minutes. The climb up to the fourth floor took a bit longer but was well worth it. We are looking over the old town of Como in a super luxurious apartment. Here’s a shot of the lounge.

The loungeroom of our luxury apartment

We will keep getting lost because the apartment is bigger than our entire house.

After a bit of a rest to get over the trip and the climb, we had lunch then wandered around the town for a bit. It’s all very Italian…just the way we like it. We wandered round the edge of the lake, out on the harbour wall, around the many piazzas. We wound up in the piazza Alessandro Volta (who volts are named after) and had a wonderful dinner in a little restaurant.

The meal was so good that Mirinda claimed it was one of the best meals she’d ever had. She had the gnocchi and spek. I, of course, had a pizza and it was brilliant. So much better than the gourmet pizza from last week. We had a bottle of chianti – delicious. A wonderful meal all round.

After eating it was off for the obligatory gelato then a stroll back to the apartment. Tomorrow promises to be wonderful.

Cheers from Como