15th century: a sailboat crossing Lago di Garda was hit by a sudden devastating thunderstorm. The vessel smashed onto big boulders at the shore, the sail ripped to pieces. Waves smashing over the ship again and again, the sail was shredded into tiny pieces. And when the storm finally moved on, the sun came out and dried all those flax pieces that had been soaked for a while, then washed ashore. Local people gathered those pieces and with the creative minds they had, figured out that this might be a good alteration the very expensive papyrus that was invented in Egypt, made of papyrus.
Over the next 200 years a paper making manufacturing process was developed right there, along the Toscolano River, along a narrow picturesque valley.
Everything was made by hand and simple machinery that was powered by the flowing water. In the 19th century Industrialization found that hidden valley, a street was built and heavy machinery could be transported up the river to those paper manufacturers, improving their work environment, speed and product quality.
One of those factories was remodeled ~15 years ago and made into this interesting museum. Every step of the process is explained in German, English and Italian, you can rent an audio device or read your way though.
Soaking the shredded fabric for a few weeks, making it into a pulp, then – with the help of a meshed frame – scoop the pulp out, sheet by sheetThose individual sheets were stacked in between felt pads and pressed to squeeze out excess water, The dried!The highest quality paper was made of silk, followed by linen and cotton
We really enjoyed our visit there! The cafe had a nice selection of tasty salads and sandwiches, drinks (of course) and my three most beloved sounds in the world: music, flowing water and cicadas!
My brother Jürgen and Ted have one, no two things in common: both have two brains (=male), and both love motorboats! Ted owns a 1963 Chris Craft since 1972 – his whole pride! And Jürgen just bought his first motorboat last year, and every time they spend time together they talk „boat“ (that’s a secret language not everybody understands). When you talk „boat“ you get glossy eyes, your heart beats faster and the smile on your face makes other people realize: Ahhh, they are in the boat flow again! Of course every vacation is planned around how many ports you can visit, walking around and commenting on everything floating in the water. Last year Jürgen and I took a long weekend to spend at Lago d‘Iseo. Where I had thought it’d just be a lake somewhere. Little did I know: Lago d‘Iseo is what Stuttgart is for Porsche and Maranello is for Ferraris. Lago d‘Iseo is the hometown and headquarter for RIVA boats, the quintessential, most luxurious and pristine wooden motorboats on earth! Add that Italian style to it and you can’t get any better. We drove around the whole lake, stopped at the Riva museum (closed) and the Riva factory (also closed), which was a major disappointment for Jürgen. With that experience of closed doors in mind, this trip had to be planned better.
So here we are, spending two days in Iseo, a town on Lago d‘Iseo, where we will have a Riva museum tour tomorrow at 11 o‘clock! If Jürgen would know, he’d take his motorboat in Germany and race here immediately! I don’t know how that would work, over the mountains and such, but I better stop now and keep you updated later…
Ted in his Chris Craft boat on Lake San Antonio, California
A few years ago we travelled around for 8 months. And traveling around includes spending time in Italy. For me, it is quintessential and one of the dream destinations, because I just love Italy. Everything Italian is better than anything else. Pronto! Food, wine, style, just anything.
We spent a week on the Aeolian Islands for hiking, and a weeklong foodtour in and around Naples, then my brother recommended a vacation home his friend just finished remodeling in a quaint little village above Lago di Garda, called Muslone. We booked it, being the Guinea pigs to check if everything is working or in need of adjustments.
A year later we booked the same vacation home again, this time sharing it with family and friends. Hiking trails right outside the village, grandiose views, relaxing silence at night, because the only street up the mountain ends there and since it has no tourist attractions, the people who come here are either hikers or tree huggers, both of which are not known for beer pong parties and drink -till-you-drop-gatherings. It is so quiet here, that you wonder why all of a sudden the blood in your ears makes noise 🤣
Muslone called our names. We fell in love with the rustic houses, ancient old cobblestone streets, we liked the simplicity of daily life, and all surrounded by trees, trees, and more trees! Did I mention lemon trees? Or olive trees??? Muslone was founded in the 16th century, it has quite a colorful history: 600 people lived here at that time, 13 bars were in town, schools, a church, everything a hardworking farmer needs. Lemon, olive oil and wine were grown, produced and sold. The location was valuable, battles were fought over it! Fast forward to now, there are 60 people in the village, mostly elderly, who hang on to the glory of the past. But age comes with the advantage of poor eyesight and bad hearing. You don’t see the wrinkles. You don’t hear the sighs, moans and groans of old age. So in your inner fantasies, Muslone is still an established trade location with a thriving future. Nowadays many houses are owned by people from other parts of Italy, from Northern and Middle Europe and used as vacation homes. There is a church, an alimentary store and … nothing else. No bars, no school, nothing. According to the recent census results, there is only 1 child under the age of 4. That’s all. The mix with the newer vacationers is what keeps the village alive. The alimentary store is busy. People need to eat!
And then we heard about a house, a rustico as it is called here, that an older couple from Germany had to give up for health reasons. At 90+ they became too old to drive over the Alpes to enjoy their vacation home, so their son stepped in and tried to sell it. As is. Which was a lot! The rustico was filled with furniture and fixtures, top to bottom – and we are speaking 3 floors – filled with books and CDs, household Schnickschnack and Nippes, somebody would need 90+ years to collect! Style wise it was like secondary Ikea look after the expiration date. When I moved out of my parent’s house at the age of 19, those were the furniture I had and had left behind a long time ago. And here they were, as if the magic circle just closed and they caught up on me – just 40 years later.
I liked the house. But I didn’t like the collection of somebody’s lives. We negotiated back and forth, we had paying conditions, they had selling dreams, so the deal never happened. Unrealistic expectations vs our somewhat too creative payment plan.
One year later, we were back. My brother Jürgen joined us on that trip, to check out that house again and 6 other objects that were for sale at that time. Our payment conditions were serious and solid by then, we were ready!
These are a few photos of the houses we checked out…
Having a big dream, luck, patience, and a splash of humor is all you need to buy a house in Italy. Money helps too!
So here we are: If I had to write a manual on how to buy a house in Italy, my first chapter would be about the location. So my advice is to think about your musts and needs. Do you need an airport nearby? A trainstation? A ferryport? Do you have any areas you prefer where you have family or friends? Do you prefer bigger cities or rural areas? Do you have any hobbies that require water or mountains? Do you want a view, a convenient downtown location? That downtown location might come with noise, would that be ok?
Our decision was as unique as yours might be; I love love love Tuscany – of course. Who doesn’t? But I wanted to have an easy drive to Germany, where my family lives. My husband loves the mountains, hiking is his passion, so we decided to search around Lago di Garda My family spends a lot of time at that lake, so it was an easy decision. Lago di Garda is also called the most southern suburb of Munich, easy to reach over the Brennero pass, which is a main transit route north – south over the Alps. ~5 driving hours from Munich, that’s all.
Lago di Garda is the eastern most lake of the 5 glacier lakes on the south side of the Alps. When the glaciers melted after the Ice Age, they carved long narrow craters into the ground which ended up as those 5 lakes. BTW, Lake Como is one of those lakes, mostly known to Americans and most visited by Americans. Therefore it is called the American lake. Of course you can book boat tours at each lake, but only on Lake Como you can book „Hollywood Tours“! George Clooney lives here and lots of other American celebrities, so it’s no wonder that the Americans want to be where famous Americans live; even Rick Steves recommended Lake Como. For those of you who don’t know Rick Steves, he is an American travel guru with a huge following and if Rick says Lake Como is wonderful, you cannot visit Lake Como anymore, unless you want to be amongst other American travelers, eat American food and have signs and menus in English.
Our decision on Lago di Garda, where all Europeans end up vacationing, was mostly dictated by the proximity to Germany. The north – south trains go through the Brennero pass, so is the Autobahn. The nearest airports to the lake are either in Bergamo or Verona, both 1 hour away.
Lago di Garda is divided between Alto Adige (north), Venetia(east) and Lombardy(west).
Because of those borders dividing the lake, Lago di Garda’s history was quite turbulent. Venetian canon ships tried to destroy lombardian vessels. Every town along the shore had and still has a big fortress, defending intruders and invasions. Lots of battles happened here and you can still see canon holes in some of the old buildings on the waterfront.
Once you have decided a rough location, you fine tune it and limit the area to for example the western coast of Lago di Garda. the west side is very steep, no space for shopping centers, amusement parks or camp grounds. On that western side, you find lots of small mountain villages, glued on to the steep cliffs. That called our names…..
When I was a little girl, my sister and I shared a room and this room hosted my moms Singer sewing machine that was neatly stored in a sewing table. The rule was that we cannot use it before we are old enough to go to school.
My middle name is „curious creativity“, which is a curse and a blessing. So here we go, waiting for my mom to leave the house, so we can sew clothes for our dolls. Not a great idea as it turned out, because I zigzag stitched right through my thumb! Adrenaline kicked in (fortunately) and I ribbed my finger out from that monster, taking the whole presser foot needle holder with it (unfortunately). ☹️
Then the pain kicked in, then the guilt, then the creativity how to hide all this mess from my mom. She still doesn’t know…..
55 years forward, my thumb still reminds me of that sewing adventure, especially when the weather changes… But I’m a loyal person and after moving out of my parents house when I was 19, one of the first things I bought was a Singer sewing machine! Not dishes or bed linens, a sewing machine. And that Singer was brought to the US shortly after our plans had changed to stay indefinitely instead of the initial 2-year contract. Can’t live without my Singer! 28 years later, I still live in the US, that exact Singer is going to travel again. Destination: Italy.
Singer at SFO
It is very interesting what a conversation starter the Singer is! From “what an interesting looking suitcase you have” to “my mom used to have a Singer just like that”. It was a fun trip! And here we are in Germany, waiting for the final part of our transition. This time it will be a car drive to Italy! 🇮🇹
Last year we fell in love with Sicily, when we visited the Aeolian Islands to do a one week long hike. But our hike organisation Macs Adventure had to change the itinerary, because the volcano Stromboli acted up and destroyed some of the hiking trails we were supposed to use. So we ended up with 2 nights in Taormina and we loved it! We wanted to come back and when we saw the itinerary of this current cruise, we didn’t hesitate to book it.
Unfortunately the day in Taormina was cut short and we were supposed to be back by 3pm. When we wanted to leave the ship by tender, this process took forever and we when we finally were on land we couldn’t find a taxi to bring us up to Taormina 🥴
It was around 11.30am when we finally arrived and we immediately rewarded ourselves with a delicious cannoli 🤩
Cannoli is a round baked philodough that is shaped into a Zylinder and filled with a ricotta cream and sprinkled with pistachios – delicious!Limoncello Spritz for Edith, chocolate gelato for Ted
There is an image that you can find throughout Taormina: flower pots with an middle eastern looking male face. Legend has it that this handsome guy came to Taormina and fell in love with a local virgin. After making love with her, she discovered that he was a married man. So she chopped off his head and used it as a flower pot. And the herbs growing from this pot were thriving! Ever since the people in Taormina make flower pots with his image so that their herbs and flowers grow well!
This tiny little island, just one hour boat ride off the coast in Napoli, is called the lemon-island. And indeed: lemons everywhere! Not only on almost every tree, but every store sells lemon stuff, every decor is somewhat lemon something and the food and drinks you can order has some lemon flavor: lemon ravioli, limoncello spritz, pizza with prosciutto and lemon, etc.: delicious! If lemon wouldn’t already be my favorite taste, it would be now!
And then there is more than lemons: the charm! Capris and Anacapris tiny little streets, cute little stores, bars and restaurants, everything is small, narrow, tiny! Even the garbage trucks, delivery trucks, buses, everything is small scale… cute, except you LLP want to sit in one of those buses, which don’t have any legroom 😜
The highlight of every visit in Capri is definitely the blue grotto! Getting in and out of this needle hole of an entrance is somewhat adventurous: you have to lay flat inside a small fisher boat and the sailer is waiting for the water level to go down with every wave. He then pulls the boat inside by grabbing a chain and pulling hard. As I said, all the people in the boat lay flat, kind of on top of each other, nothing sticks out higher than the rim of the boat. And then you’re inside!
There is only one street in Capri (and many walkways / hiking trails) and that one street is narrow! As a tourist, you are not allowed to drive a car on this street, only a scooter, but I wouldn’t recommend that. With an inch between upcoming traffic on one side and the cliff on the other, only the local pros can maneuver that craziness!
I really liked you when we met; in fact it was love at first sight! We had great trips together, you were attractive, stylish, a perfect handsome italian gigolo who would be a little flimsy from time to time, but mostly reliable.
But today, I almost filed for divorce. How dare you! We had an agreement, a booking, that you’d take us from Rome to Civitavecchia, leaving at 8.15pm and arriving at 9.15pm, but you totally screwed it up!!! Our part of the commitment was to pay the fare, to show up on time, to be a good, well prepared customer. And we tried really hard! But you on the other hand, you showed up, pretending that everything works out, you even were on time, so we trusted you.
And it went downhill from there.
We made it almost to Civitavecchia, 3 more stops to go, when you decided to quit. You just stopped, no explanation, no reason, you plain stopped and left us at a station. It was late night, we were confused, but you didn’t care! We were hungry and tired and our Airbnb host was already waiting. But you just sat there, as if we never met before! What the hell?!? Trenitalia, I trusted you! You were my friend, we went through thick and thin, we had adventures together, and now that???
After a 1 hour wait, the full moon raising, we were hushed out of the carriage to switch to another platform to catch another train, your best friend so-to-speak. But how can we trust your best friend after what you did to us tonight? But our choices were limited, we hoped your friend would show up, and he did after another 15 min. But it was not the same. He tried hard, but those stops at stations without a name, those stops without opening the doors, he really tried, but how should I say, nada. Eventually he brought us to Civitavecchia and we were glad to arrive. We found our Airbnb, it is midnight, and we are starving…..
It’s never enough time at the lake, Lago di Garda in Italian, Garda Lake in English or Gardasee in German. When my sons saw the lake the first time, they called it “Caribbean”! Little did they know, they never were in the Caribbean, but the breathtaking views with the mountain range in the back and the lake with its surrounding villages in the front is just an instant love at first sight moment that grows into a lifelong love. Once you’ve seen Lago di Garda, Limone, Malcesine, Sirmione, Gargnano, just to name a few villages, you find more and more beautiful places and you want to stay forever!
And then there is Muslone, a tiny little mountain village, a 3 km drive up the street on the western shore of the lake. The street ends here, there is a church, and an alimentari store with Enzo, who knows everybody and everything. He is the local vacation home rental manager, the post office, the go-to-guy for local affairs. Enzo is the best, everytime I go there, he teaches me some words in Italian and – he has the best food in the world!
Our friend Harald, Enzo, me and JürgenEnzo, whispering in Jürgen‘s ear
Harald, Jürgen, Ted and I are spending a few days in Muslone, because we not only fell in love with the village when we stayed here for 2 weeks last summer, we fell in love with a very special house. I’m not sure how old it is, but the village was built in the 16 hundreds…..
When it comes to the weather, I was born in the wrong country; a country that has four seasons, a winter, and snow. Where the days are short and the jackets are puffy, where the wind hurts in your face and the streets are icy.
Northern Italy, near Trento
But then there is Advent, Christmas decorations, Christmas music and delicious home made cookies (thank you Tamara!)! There are Christkindlmarkets in every village and – there is snow!!! ⛄️🌨️⛄️
When we sat in the train from Venice to Munich yesterday, the little powdery dust on the top of the mountains got denser and heavier the further north we travelled. Brennero, the highest stop on the way to Munich, at the border between Italy and Austria, was covered in 1 ft of snow, very fresh, very white! And even Munich had a nice layer of powdery dusting of snow. When we got off the train, a few very slow snowflakes tried to find the ground, not knowing exactly where to go. It looks like a dance! I love that snow, slow dance snow!
And it kept snowing throughout the night, it is beautiful! And every surface is white and looks bright and happy! Perfect Christmas mood, perfect December weather!
Did I ever mention that I love Germany in December?
