Funiculi, funicular

The weather here is quite changeable. For instance, last night we wanted to eat outside so we plonked ourselves at a table against the suggestion of the waiter who insisted it would rain. Still, he shrugged, if it rains we could move inside. We weren’t the only brave diners as there was a table of four chaps and a table of two women as well as us.

We perused our menus and had decided on our choices when Mirinda felt a few big drops on her head. She suggested we move inside, which we did and the waiter was nice enough not to say he told us so. The other outside eaters remained for a bit longer but then the heavens opened and we watched from our seat in the window as the others made a dash for the dryness within.

Apart from the fact that the waiters then had to pack everything up what the rain did was bring out a whole bunch of umbrella salesmen. They just sprung out of nowhere. Some on foot, some on bicycles with the brollies hanging over their handlebars. It was like they were just waiting. Clearly everyone in Como knows when it’s going to rain.

Once we were safely back in the flat, it poured down. There was torrential rain and lightening. Not that we cared.

And then, this morning, the sky was blue, the sun was shining and apart from the ashtrays full of water, you’d not have known there had ever been any rain. The perfect day to take the funicular up to Brunate but first, a wander around town.

Our first stop was the duomo. A magnificent structure in the middle of Como. According to the Rough Guide it is the best example of “…Gothic Renaissance fusion…” in Italy. They certainly have that right. It is magnificent. The statues are wonderful, including a spectacular St Sebastien in the front.

St Seb outside Como Duomo

Inside is almost as good as outside. Typically Catholic, there are a lot of gorgeous paintings and statues as well as a sign indicating what you can and can’t wear in the church. Short skirts and low cut tops are a complete no-no. And there was me thinking Jesus was happy for anyone to come and pray.

We had a lovely wander, getting separated as usual, and I was after buying a guide book. I approached the little desk but as I was about to ask for one, the chap behind the desk sprung to his feet, grasping a little brass bell in his hand, and shook his head followed quickly by a shake of the bell. I figured he wanted me to leave.

I looked around and saw no fire. I then looked at my watch and realised it was God’s lunchtime. I left the duomo and filmed this:

Having been ushered from the cathedral in no uncertain terms, we wandered down to the lake. We headed towards the funicular and took the short (7.5 minutes) ride to Brunate where we had a quite expensive but delicious lunch.

While the food was good and the special beer fantastic, the view is really what made the lunch so special. This is the view that Mirinda had.

Having lunch at Brunate

And this was the view that I had:

Lunch view from Brunate

Sitting at the next table was a bunch of people from Melbourne who were having a lovely time discussing their hotel rooms and how they were so small that you couldn’t actually open the door. One of them told a story about going to a Vietnamese restaurant in Richmond on ANZAC Day night, which surprised them all. Actually, we keep hearing Australian accents. It must be an invasion.

After lunch we went for a wander around the hilltop town, up and down narrow lanes, by typically Italian houses, avoiding typical Italian drivers. I know they’re insane but you have to marvel they don’t have more accidents. Does that make them better drivers? This is the sort of lane where they regularly drive huge articulated lorries.

Narrow Italian road

Back at the funicular stop we tried to board the next one down but Mirinda’s ticket would not be accepted by the automatic gate. Actually, the whole system is automatic, except for the guy who sells you the ticket in the first place. I’m surprised this process isn’t automatic as well.

Anyway, just like at Waterloo, the ticket reader refused to acknowledge Mirinda’s ticket. We looked around for a human to help. Generally at Waterloo you’ll eventually find some accusatory person, but not here. Another couple had the same problem which they solved by climbing over the barrier. Clearly this was the proper solution and Mirinda followed suit. I thought she was going to have to walk.

The trip down was very similar to the trip up apart from two things, the direction and the lack of a pushy man who annoyed Mirinda by pushing and shoving, sitting down, then standing up in order to get in everyone’s way. I’m hoping someone shoved him off the top.

Relieved and back in Como we had another wander around, taking in the marvellous Basilica San Fedele which has a wonderful St Sebastien painted as one panel of a triptych. It was painted in 1504 but I have no idea who by.

Painting of St Sebastien in Basilica St Fedele

Completely worn out by all the walking and sightseeing, we popped into a handy supermarket before heading back to our apartment for a well earned rest.