Verbania (Verbania)

The journey from Milan to Verbania is an hour and a half by train - an hour and a quarter of flat, nondescript countryside and dilapidated stations, then a bridge over a wide river, with a sand beach and people bathing, and then fifteen minutes of blockbuster views of the hills and waters of Lake Maggiore. For the latter part, I was out of my seat, standing at the window and gawping at the dramatic hillside-to-water landscape, the red tiled roofs, the often-very-swanky architecture and all the yachts and seaplanes messing about on a Sunday afternoon.

Having installed myself in a room on the fourth floor in the Hotel Castagnola (with private sun-terrace!), I decided to kill the time until dinner by exploring (= getting lost in) Verbania. Seems like an agreeable place, with its complement of narrow cobbled streets, washing hanging from the balconies, that sort of thing. On a more commercial note, there are multiple bars with outdoor seating (for to separate the sunburnt tourist from her money), and at least one accomplished gelateria. I definitely approve of tiramisu ice cream.

It appears that my luggage has not seen it fit to join me yet.



The view from my balcony. Nobbad.