Hot Humid and Steep
(continued)
The last stop on our holiday was Portofino, a really wealthy enclave on the Italian Rivera. At each stop on our holiday, the hotel prices increased, while the quality of the view and the size of the room decreased. The trend accelerated in Portofino. The balcony view was neither Lake nor Sea; it was brick wall – about six inches from the edge of the balcony. Because of the lack of space, the telephone had been placed on the headboard of the bed; it could only be accessed by someone on the bed. It was impossible to fully open the closet door because the gap between the door and the bed was less than 9 inches.
Luckily, the city beckoned. Nazy asked the desk clerk for dining suggestions.
“I’d like to try the local specialities,” Nazy began.
“That would be pasta and fish,” the clerk replied.
“Should we make reservations?”
“That won’t be necessary, there are many restaurants. You should just walk through the town and pick the one you like. We you return, I will happily make the reservations.
The city is really pretty (see below). It is filled with the kind of shops that Nazy enjoys (e.g. Gucci, Hermes, Missoni). There was also a huge collection of artsy boutiques. Nazy liked the Murano glass collection. Befriending the locals, she found ‘the best’ restaurant.
We strolled back to the hotel to make reservations and change for dinner.
“The restaurant is booked,” the clerk said.
“Great!” Nazy replied. “Thank y…”
“Eh: I didn’t mean it’s booked for you,” the clerk interrupted. “It is fully booked, there is nothing available.”
“What about tomorrow?”
“Not available....”
“Did she say that there wouldn’t be a problem?” I thought.
“…You shouldn’t have left it so late,” the clerk intoned.
“How about Wednesday?” Nazy asked. “That’s our anniversary.”
“Don’t worry, we will do something special.”
“Does ‘special’ mean making a dinner booking?” I thought.
Luckily, I was travelling with Nazy. After dressing for dinner, we walked back into town where she was able to talk us into a very nice restaurant. As we sat alongside the harbour, yachts began arriving to park..
Reader interrupt: “Park? Surely you know that yachts do not ‘park’.”
… park moor for the evening. These vessels were enormous – in some cases far larger than our entire hotel. [The boat in the background is not a cruise ship; it is, rather, a private yacht.] BTW: For dinner, Nazy sampled the ‘local speciality’ – fish.
The hotel clerk, attempting to flaunt her expertise in hope of landing a job on the HP helpdesk, suggested a boat excursion to the San Fruttuoso Abbey followed by..
“a boat to the very beautiful village of Camogli. Boats between San Fruttuoso and Camogli leave every 15 minutes.”
In fact, the only thing in San Fruttuoso is the Abbey and the boats depart for Carmogli not quite every hour. The Abbey traces its history to 942. Nazy made a pertinent observation while we were waiting for the ferry to Carmogli.
“Every little dink town has a church.”
“Right. In fact, some of the larger houses have built-in chapels.”
“But..”
“I bet that there’s a chapel on each of those yachts.”
“But why, Dan? The towns don’t have hospitals or schools.”
“That’s because everyone needs salvation and only kids and sick people need schools and hospitals.”
“When is the ferry coming, Dan?”
Carmogli was really beautiful and we had our nicest lunch of the entire trip while we were there. (Nazy had the local cuisine – fish.) During the trip back, Nazy booked our anniversary dinner at the Hotel Splendido in Portofino. I tried to interfere:
“That’s not necessary, Nazy Joon. The clerk at our hotel already said that they would arrange something special for us.”
Fortuitously Nazy ignored me.
The Splendido has been the favourite hotel of Princess Grace, Elizabeth Taylor and others of that ilk. We ate outside with a wonderful view of the Mediterranean and the st*rs. [Nazy had the local speciality – fish.]
Amazingly, Nazy didn’t purchase anything from the high fashion stores in Portofino. This unlikely situation caused worry..
“Are you feeling okay, my dear?” I asked.
“Well..”
“Would you like to stop at the designer outlet in Mendrisio on the way home?”
“What a great idea!”
The drive home, punctuated by a 3 hour stop in Mendrisio, was smooth. Claudia smoothly navigated us around the traffic. The sunny, warm, beautiful weather disappeared as soon as we crossed the Gotthard pass to enter the northern, German-speaking part of Switzerland. It was cold, windy and raining in Zürich.
Pictures of this part of Italy are available here