Cold in Como

Our first day in Como was cold (by Florida standards for sure) and add to that a 25mph wind; and we decided to forego boating on beautiful Lake Como. Too choppy, too chilly! The best option for us was taking the funicular up the side of the steep hill to Brunate, a lovely Italian village.

The funicular was completed in 1894. Since spending time in Europe, that didn’t even seem old anymore. On exiting the funicular, we were treated to lovely views. My breath was taken away by the view of the Alps, but the surroundings we were standing in were lovely as well. This was Brunate.

Hotel in Brunate

The beautiful, blue sky was compensation for the cold temperatures, though I did check the shop for a beanie style hat to keep my ears warm. It was to no avail as it was supposed to be spring. This was not the first time that I had inquired as to the normalcy of the winter-like temperatures. And this was not the first time that I was told there is a saying in Italy – “April does what it wants!” No worries, I would be warm again when I got back to Florida.

There was a man making bracelets set up in an out-of-the-way booth. He told me the bracelets were made of Murano glass, which he described as “important” to Italy, particularly Venice. He also was selling lace doilies. These he described as important as well, especially since his mother made them. It’s a treat to chat with local people and hear them talk about their country. I love the way the Italians use the word “important” to describe things dear to their heritage.

The funicular only goes so far up the hill, but we hired a taxi/jeep to take us to the top. We figured we’d ride up and walk down, but after our ride along the steep, narrow streets, we thought better of it, a decision our knees would thank us for!

Once we got out of the jeep, there were stairs waiting for us to go to the lighthouse at the very top of the hill (note, for Floridians this is like mountain climbing).

Up, up, up we went, and we were rewarded with the best views of the Alps. Whatever breath hadn’t been taken away before, was surely gone as we feasted our eyes on the Swiss Alps.

All this fresh air and walking really stirs up an appetite. We had choices. Perhaps the Osteria Bar and Pizzeria, which was attached to a church or was that vice versa.

That was almost novel enough to have us eat there, but we opted for a place with a better view. We were glad we did. Our first course was bruschetta three ways. We order bruschetta often, both at home and abroad. This was the best we ever had. Our favorite had caramelized onions atop. Magnifica! We followed that with soup in keeping with our pursuit of warmth. Yum!

Back at sea level (or lake level), before we joined our friends for dinner and wine, I found a pop-up soccer souvenir stand and bought a beanie. My ears were grateful. Now I looked like a fan of the Italian national team. That works for me.

On Sunday some of us ventured out to church. I wasn’t sure I wanted to, because a service in a language I could not understand didn’t sound worthy of rising early. Let me tell you, though, you never know what you may experience, and this was worth it. Danny, who is also the founding pastor of our church and like our other traveling companions, a friend for over 40 years, wanted to check out the churches. We split again, with some sleeping in and some of us going to the 10:00 service at the Como Duomo, at least we went for the beginning of it. Listening to the pipe organ is amazing in any language.

The previous day during a walk we had found an Evangelical church. The service there began at 10:30, so we did some church hopping. This church was modest in stature. The people were friendly and several spoke English. We were greeted warmly and every person we met was excited to introduce us to the pastor. She is originally from Germany, but she speaks English well. So well, in fact, that she preached the service in Italian and English. We weren’t sure if that was for our benefit or not, but it was very moving that she would go to the trouble.

They handed out song booklets like what we had in the church we were going to back in the 1980s and 90s. It was a joy to see some of the old songs printed in English and Italian. The church was close to Presbyterian in doctrine, and their service that day was abbreviated as they had a meeting going on after the service, so we were there on the perfect day. Gloria a Dio!

It was an afternoon of meandering around Lake Como and imagining what it would be like if it weren’t so windy! We made the best of it and totally enjoyed being immersed in Como. Our hotel was situated in Piazza Camillo Benso Conte di Cavour (piazza translates to square). We happened upon a band finishing up a concert. They were playing Beat It by Michael Jackson.

There was lots of activity in the square as the band broke down the stage, including an alley of clowns that wandered onto the scene. (Yes, that’s what a group of clowns is called. That was new to me.)

Recorded music was being played in the background and we watched as folks boogied across the square while kids kicked a soccer ball around and Danny finally got McDonalds. After a while, you need a taste of home.

We were scheduled to leave Como and go to Switzerland the next morning via train. The itinerary was Como to Lugano to Lucerne. The hotel concierge informed us that we would likely have to deal with a scheduled train strike. They have them periodically, so to the Italians it’s part of life. But for us, this was alarming. We were told that we could possibly get out before it starts but we should have an alternative plan. Start and stop times of these is precise and they would last 24 hours or so. That was not information that comforted us.

We walked to a close-by train station (not the one we would depart from) and the attendant said that our train would not be affected. She even double-checked it with the main train station and told us we should be fine. Probably because of that pesky language barrier, we weren’t completely relieved. I’d say we were about 80 percent. Total relief wouldn’t happen until the next day when we hopefully boarded our train.

The following morning, we arrived at the Como S. Giovanni Railway Station, and it appeared our trip would not be cancelled. Nearly every other trip was canceled due to the strike. We were thankful as we set out on the next chapter.