An unexpected day at Lake Como
I'm sitting at a small café in Varenna, watching the sunlight dance across Lake Como. It's just past 1pm and I've been here since this morning, having arrived on the early train from Milan. The lake stretches before me like a massive mirror reflecting the surrounding mountains, their bases shrouded in a light mist that promises to thicken by evening.
I didn't plan to come to Lake Como today. The original idea was to spend one more day exploring Milan's museums, but last night after dinner, I felt that familiar tug - the one that whispers "go somewhere else tomorrow." So I checked train times, found an early departure, and here I am.
The journey was simple - just over an hour from Milano Centrale to Varenna-Esino station. I arrived at 8:50 for the 9:05 train (naturally), which gave me plenty of time to grab a coffee and a pastry before boarding. The train hugged the edge of the lake for the final stretch, offering tantalizing glimpses of what was to come.
!The first glimpse of Lake Como from the train window
Varenna welcomed me with narrow stone staircases and alleyways that wind down to the waterfront. They call these passages contrade - some so narrow I had to turn sideways to navigate through with my backpack. Each one eventually opens to reveal another stunning view of the water.
This morning, I simply wandered. The November air is crisp (15°C according to my phone) but the sunshine makes it pleasant enough to sit outside. Tourist season is clearly winding down; many shops have reduced hours posted, and I've had entire viewpoints to myself.
I found a small botanical garden that was still open and spent nearly an hour examining the various Mediterranean species growing there. Many of the plants were labeled with small placards detailing their origins and uses. A magnificent cypress near the entrance must have been at least 200 years old, its trunk gnarled and textured like an ancient map.
!Ancient cypress in Varenna's botanical garden
For lunch, I stopped at this café and ordered a simple plate of lake fish with lemon and herbs. The waiter mentioned they catch the fish fresh each morning. It was delicate and flavorful, nothing like the heavy preparations I've had elsewhere in Italy.
While eating, I overheard a conversation about something called "SloWeekend" starting today - apparently it's an event focused on local food and culture around Lake Como. The waiter confirmed it's happening in Menaggio, just across the water, with tours to meet local farmers and producers. I might take the ferry over tomorrow to check it out.
There's a fog warning for tonight, which the waiter says is typical for November. "The lake creates its own weather," he told me, suggesting I should stay to watch the mist roll in across the water this evening. It sounds magical, so I've decided to find a room here rather than return to Milan.
I'm struck by how different this feels from the city energy of Milan, despite being so close. Here, time seems to slow down. The locals move at an unhurried pace, stopping to chat with each other on street corners. Elderly men sit on benches along the promenade, observing everything with the practiced eye of those who have seen decades of visitors come and go.
It's day 71 of this journey. That means I've been traveling for over two months now, with 429 days still ahead. Sometimes that number feels overwhelming, but today it feels like a gift. How many more unexpected detours like this one await me? How many more places will call to me the night before, changing my plans entirely?
I've learned to listen to that voice. The best moments of this trip so far have come from these spontaneous decisions.
The fog is starting to gather at the far end of the lake. I think I'll find accommodation for tonight and then walk along the shoreline to watch as the mist transforms this already dreamlike landscape into something even more ethereal.
Tomorrow, perhaps I'll take that ferry to Menaggio for the SloWeekend event, or maybe I'll explore more of Varenna's hidden corners. For now, I'm content to sit a little longer, watching the light change on the water, feeling grateful for whatever impulse brought me here today.