$18 and 27 minutes and we're in Switzerland!

On Monday, in a surprise move, the Sumners decided to go to Switzerland.  Lugano (a beautiful lake town) is just a few kilometers away from Como.  It looks and feels similar.  They speak Italian, eat Italian food, drive Italian cars, and sell Italian-made goods.  BUT!  They use francs instead of euros and they have tons of German beers.

It was a lovely day, and we spent a good deal of it walking along the lido, drinking beer.

Yep.  Beautiful.

I think the highlight of the day - besides, "OMG we went to Switzerland" - was during lunch.  I'm a big people watcher, and there was a table of three behind Joe's shoulder that I had my eye on.  This little garden gnome - hardly the size of a troll doll - ate a whole pizza by herself.  I am not kidding.  And the pizza was about a 10-incher.

She is my hero.

It's our last night in Italy - we head back to New York tomorrow and home to Denver on Wednesday.  It's been an amazing trip.  My Italian has gotten better.  My waistline has gotten bigger.  My love for ancient architecture and beautiful duomos, stronger.

A few notes, however.  Northern Italians are not as warm and open as Southern Italians.  They're not rude or aloof, they're just not quite as, um, welcoming.  I can kinda see why.  Venice is sinking and cannot possibly support the massive influx of tourists every year.  It's a love/hate relationship between the Venetians and the tourists.  Bellagio is tiny, but crammed with gawkers, pointing and elbowing their way into shop doorways and ferry lines.  I mean, Rome was/is crowded, but the city itself is spread out, as are the sights.  These smaller northern towns are finite in their city centers, and their tiny streets were not meant for large jostling crowds.  Also, things don't always run on time, and no one really seems to care that you're now late.  They don't mean to be mean about it, it just happens.  And in America, we have a certain expectation that if we yell loud enough we'll get our way.  In Italy, if you yell, they yell back and then the conversation is over - you are SOL.  Again, they don't mean to be mean about it, that's just what happens.

We (I) got fairly stressed out a couple of times - mostly because rude/ugly Americans were insisting on getting their way, and the Italians were having none of it...who can blame them.  Once Joe pulled me back from the ledge, I realized I was on vacation, and I shouldn't really worry if everything doesn't go right.  Nothing is perfect, and most things work themselves out in the end anyway.  And when they do work out, it's because an Italian genuinely cares that you fall in love with his/her country, culture, and people.  And we have!

We'll be back, but we'll do it differently.  We'll stay in low key places and do more day trips, hopefully contributing less to the problem that we ourselves create.

Thanks for traveling with us!  Ciao!