Lagi Como (day 1)

We took a short train from Milan to Lake Como and were met at the train station by Enza, the women whose Bed and Breakfast we were staying at, and her daughter Stefania. We had been a little concerned about how we were going to find them once we got to the station since we didn’t know what Enza looked like, but they were holding a sign with our names on it. It was really cute.

Enza turned out to be the nicest woman ever. Over the course of the two nights we were there she adopted us as her American daughters and insisted that she was our Italian mother.

When we got to her house she got us all settled and then had us pick peaches off her tree and made us a really great salad of salami, lettuce, tomatoes, olive oil, and salt. So simple, and so so good.

After we had lunch Enza drove us down to the lake so we could hang out for a few hours. We walked around a bit in Alexander Voltra square – the man who invented the battery by the way, hence the word Voltage. From the square we took a trolley to the top of a hill to get a better view of the city. The trolley went literally straight up the hill, so much so that the trolley itself was actually cut diagonal to the hill and had stairs inside it to stand with a few benches as well.

 

The statue of Alexander Voltra in his Piazza

The view was pretty incredible, but it was so hot there was a haze around the valley. We didn’t end up staying up on top for too long.

We walked around the lake a bit and realized the town was quite similar to Sausalito. Oh, also I feel it is important to note that we were in Como at the same time as George Clooney. You’re like was previously incomplete before that information.

 

Sausalito in Italy

But, as per usual, it started to rain a bit. So Enza came back to pick us up so we weren’t stranded. She was having nothing of the idea of us taking a bus. Before she grabbed us though we walked into a store called Coin, think Macy’s but smaller, and we came across this unfortunate couch:

 

Yes, the pockets on the couch were actually pockets. It was highly disturbing for me.

Later that evening we went to this little restaurant in the town that Enza lives in – she called ahead to the owner to inform him we were coming, that’s how small of a town we were staying in. Anyway, we had waited until we arrived in Italy to order pasta. It was worth the wait!

The sauce was simply chopped fresh tomatoes, olive oil, and garlic. Again so simple and so good. It had been interesting to see how different American Italian food is from actual Italian food. Also the fresh pasta is most definitely the type of pasta that can be easily twirled onto a fork. I feel as if I have a better understanding of life now that I can properly twirl my pasta.