12/11/24
As we were the only guests we had the place to ourselves in the morning we devoured some bread and jam, and plenty of coffee as there was a bag in the cupboard. We hadn’t yet confirmed our plans for the day but we were going to Como.
Getting to Como felt like a checkpoint of sorts. It was hard to know exactly why, perhaps because we’d known for a while it was definitely a stop en route. Or that once through the Alps we could relax somewhat. That’s why we ended up booking a night in Como despite it only being less than 10 miles away.
Oddly enough the EV5 had actually been diverted through Novazzono, so we weren’t far off route at all. We went back down a large hill, then even further downhill once we’d joined the route. A large vista of Chiasso opened up in front of us.
Approaching Chiasso we saw a checkpoint for the border, presumably for lorries to weigh in or something, but it was a good sign we were close. Chiasso was full of very friendly people. Sometimes it slips your mind how obvious it is that you’re a traveller, but you’re carrying a tonne of luggage. It brings a smile to peoples faces and is apparently quite disarming.
As we got closer to Italy the signs started to vanish. It’s hard not to get used to the frequent reminders that you’re on the right track but they were disappearing fast. We were in a lane that had ‘Italia’ printed on it repeatedly, going down a hill. We thought we’d made it without even passing a sign at first, and prematurely celebrated. But round the next corner was a weird object of infrastructure, run down and forcing a little weaving. It was a busy crossing.
We briefly stopped for a picture with the Italia sign, when we continued not one, but three, scooters whizzed passed us. They weren’t Vespas but it was still comical. The traffic seemed to immediately and dramatically increase and the once careful driving 100m ago turned chaotic. It was hard not to see how the stereotype of Italian driving was formed.
Suddenly people were reversing into the road without looking, no one was using their indicators and they were looking at us as though we were nuts. Just like home we thought. We felt like we had an advantage having dealt with British roads and drivers for so long. We were used to the deteriorating road surface, the lack of cycling infrastructure and most of all the aggressive, impatient and dangerous driving by those looking to shave 3 seconds off their journey time, if necessary, at the cost of your life.
Nothing could take away the beauty of coming across Lake Como though. We turned a corner and from the balustraded road the lake glistened in front of us. Como was set on the other side, its shape and layout clearly Roman. We’d evacuated to the pavement for an easier life and a better view. A sea plane took off from the water. Soon we were riding down the side of the lake on a cobbled throughway towards the city.
We’d managed to secure a cheap but palatial room in a shared apartment. After a little bit of hassle getting in, they had some weird phone number to call that was meant to but didn’t unlock the door, we secured our bikes in the lobby. Upstairs we had marble worktop and gold taps, large chandeliers and a jacuzzi bath. It was a little dated but reasonably priced.
After leaving our things we set out to explore the city, free of the burdens of bike and luggage. We’d already cycled passed the Volta museum and set about visiting the cathedral and obtaining vegan gelato. Como is a walkable city, with lots of old streets and plazas, and al fresco dining on almost every corner.
We however, set forth to Lidl for our food. The carrefour was too expensive to our surprise and Lidl wasn’t much better. We wondered if the proximity to Switzerland or the touristy nature of the place was responsible. We were making stovetop pizza, the oven was broken, as it felt right for our first night in Italy.
It was a like a mini rest day. We had a long bath and relaxed. There was even enough dough for a chocolate dessert pizza! Jonathan relaxed more than Frankie, it had been about 28 days since we had left home. In the evening we went out for another walk to absorb the evening culture. They do eat much later here, the shops were all closed over lunch we recalled.
Without the lights the city would seem much less exciting to look at. The path where the funicular rises lit up neatly to the top of one of the hills that surrounds Como.
An English couple from Herefordshire, the first we’d seen since we left, were staying at the house for one night on their express drive back to Calais. It was odd to converse in your native tongue and notice all the words, phrases and gestures that made sense again.
Lying in bed that night we happened to look upon the website for the Lukmanier pass and found it to be much colder, subject to ice and have received a blanket of snow. We felt blessed to have made it through in the most glorious of weather windows.
Surly They Won't Make It 