Torbole

After Malces­ine, Limone sul Garda and Riva del Garda, I present to you Torbole. I went to Torbole just because the boat from Riva del Garda to Malces­ine stopped there along the way, and I’d never been there before. It was a weird little place. Like Riva, it used to be in Austria until 1918. Every­one except the staff of the restaur­ants seemed to be German, and really into intensely star­ing at you in the street. The light and the way the water looked along the harbour front was beau­ti­ful though, and I spent most of the hour before the boat back sitting on a bench soak­ing it in. I don’t think this is a real place, I think it’s a screen from one of those new-age computer games from the 90s like Myst.

This was basic­ally the town centre. Some Germans force­fully stared at me while I was taking these pictures. I have spent quite a lot of time in Germany, and I am famil­i­ar with the German Street Stare, but nowhere has come quite close to this level. It was strange.

This is pretty much the whole town. There’s also anoth­er street with shops a bit further in. I saw some train­ers I liked in a shop, but they turned out to be €300. I found some very simil­ar ones in Malces­ine for about €30, which also had the bonus (for me) of not being leath­er. The trend in Italy this year seemed to be metal­lic silver shoes, which I have no complaints about. Itali­an shoes are good for me, I’ve got narrow feet. Their clothes don’t fit so well, I’m far too tall.

The water here is flat and still like a mirror.

And there’s a cover­ing of mist a lot of the time.

It was very sooth­ing to sit here read­ing The Name of the Rose.

Even the ducks are quiet and neatly arranged.

Sadly my budget didn’t stretch to hiring a rowing boat, and besides I’m not the strongest rower.

This is the swim­ming area. It was much too cold to swim. I was comfort­able in a rain jack­et and tights.

The boat came every hour and a half. I spent most of my time in Torbole quietly read­ing. With a view like that, I have no complaints.

Those are dais­ies rather than some sort of fresh­wa­ter barnacle.

The boat crew had gotten to recog­nise me by this point. Next stop, back to Malces­ine.