Italy with the motorbike, part 4

May 16, 2012

We drove on towards Lago di Garda, but not on the motorway any longer, which we had already left in Bozen / Bolzano, via Trento, Arco, Nago, Torbole.

Let’s be honest, Lake Garda is over-praised in my eyes. I would prefer Lake Como at any time (I haven’t been to Lake Maggiore yet). But I think we were on the less interesting side of the lake.

O.k., I admit, it wasn’t that uninteresting at all! But much nicer on the other bank … Maybe “our” side was too touristy for me.
[Why on earth was I so negative? It looks beautiful!]

Still there were nice little places: Malcesine, Porto, Campo, Castelletto, we ate in a rather kitschy restaurant on the beach, where they served really good food. We took our first break in Castelletto. The restaurant came later.

You can see from the flags that the wind came from the north / north-east. Therefore, it was not very warm in spite of the sun.

View from Castelletto to the other side of the lake.

I’m trying to crawl down into my jacket.

Here are two pictures of the restaurant. Everything was coloured in gold, even the decorations on the tiles and the curtains in the toilet.

One had a nice view.

Our way continued via Lazise (here we left Lake Garda), Valeggio sul Mincio, Marengo, Goito, Gazoldo degli Ippoliti, Marcaria.

Our GPS led us from Cesole to Dosolo on the dike along the Po, from where we had a breathtaking view. I was so blown away that I forgot to take photos. At first we weren’t sure if we were allowed to drive there, but then we met a few cars up there, so it seemed to be legal. In Dosolo we crossed the Po again. We actually wanted to find a hotel, but that turned out to be difficult.

In front of the town on the other side of the river, Guastalla, there was a luxury hotel complex on the right hand side with the problem that it was closed and abandoned. There was another hotel right across the street, but it looked very shabby. We drove further into town but couldn’t make out a single hotel. The population appeared to be mostly Indian or Pakistani. Not that I have anything against them, it just surprised me.

We saw ourselves forced to drive on, via Novellara to a small place called Ponte Vettigano, where we found the Hotel Santo Steffano.

(To be continued)