When we arrived the day before, we saw a fascinating historic car parked in front of the hotel. It was a Bentley roadster that won a 24 hour race at Le Mans in the 1920s.
We awoke at 7:30 am and we were certain that we would be late for breakfast, which was scheduled at 8 am. I am not a person who remembers her dreams often, but as I was waking, I knew that I had dreamed of Mary, my friend and former neighbor. Mary’s son Nicholas and my son Nicholas, were in the dream, too. The boys were of elementary school age. Their elementary school principal, Angie, was also in the dream, as well as my boss at that time, Carole.
The breakfast buffet was bountiful. It included: many varieties of cheese; cold meats; fruit, both whole or cut into fruit salad; croissants, both plain or filled with either jam or pastry cream; many kinds of breads and spreads ( this was the first time I had ever seen peanut butter in Europe); pies, cakes and muffins, and more, much more. Nick, who doesn’t drink tea or coffee, was happy to find hot chocolate, while I was able to steep my own loose tea (no tea bags).
After our meal, the four of us decided to explore the village. We walked along the coastline and came upon Oratorio Santo Rocco, an historic 16th century building that is still in use. Hearing music, we went inside, where a woman was playing violin selections.
We continued our walk, admiring the many varieties of trees, shrubs, and flowering plants. We knew that we would be returning to Milan in the afternoon, but before that we were ready for another meal. We came upon a restaurant at which the one waitress worked very hard to accommodate the patrons. The menu offered veal with tuna sauce. This must be a local specialty, because we had eaten that the night before. However, this time it was prepared much more simply, and perhaps, authentically.
Jose-Maria ordered branzino, and he said that it was the best fish he had eaten on the trip so far. Agnès had two salads, carrot and and octopus. Nick loves mixed salads, so he chose that. I enjoyed ravioli filled with buffalo ricotta and spinach in a butter sauce. I recalled making ravioli from scratch with my mother when I was a child.
We checked out of our hotel and prepared for the return drive to Stresa. We were grateful to get help from another customer at the petrol station, because the directions were difficult to understand.
Jose-Maria and Agnès returned the car while we got our train tickets. Fortunately, a calm, multi-lingual employee helped us to get the tickets we needed.
We had a dinner reservation at 8 pm. I have been describing lots of food, and I thought I might skip writing about that night’s dinner, but I couldn’t do that. Here’s why: Nick and I both ordered tuna wrapped in crushed pistachio nuts. The waiter thought we were nuts to order it medium rare, but that’s the way we like tuna, and it was one of our most memorable meals of the trip.
Our hotel room was extremely spacious. I thought the building must have been a dwelling for a single family many years ago. How different their lives were from how ours are.
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