Evening glow on Lake Como
Sitting on a smooth stone bench along the lake promenade, watching as the last rays of sunlight paint the mountains across the water. The temperature has dropped to a crisp 8°C, but I'm comfortable with my jacket zipped up and a scarf wrapped around my neck. This little spot has become my thinking place over the past few days in Varenna.
After my morning wanderings, I spent most of the afternoon exploring Villa Monastero and its botanical gardens. I arrived at exactly 9:50, ten minutes before opening, and found myself first in line - which meant I had the first rooms all to myself before other visitors trickled in. The villa's interior was fascinating, but the gardens were the true highlight.
Despite being November, the botanical collection impressed me with its diversity. Mediterranean species thriving in this unique microclimate created by the mountains and lake. The gardens stretch along the waterfront for nearly a kilometer, with terraced sections climbing up the hillside. An enormous cedar of Lebanon commanded attention near the center, its massive branches extending outward like protective arms.
I took my time, reading every information placard and photographing particularly interesting specimens. The gardeners have done remarkable work maintaining the grounds even as autumn advances - fallen leaves cleared from pathways, pruning completed with precision.
After leaving the villa, I decided to follow the recommendation from the bookshop owner yesterday and hike up to the hilltop chapel. The path wound steeply upward through olive groves and past stone houses, occasionally offering glimpses of the lake below. By the time I reached the chapel, my Norwegian hiking boots had proven their worth on the uneven terrain, and I was slightly out of breath.
The view was worth every step - a panorama that encompassed the central part of Lake Como, with Bellagio visible on its promontory across the water. I sat there for nearly an hour, watching ferries crisscross the lake and clouds cast moving shadows on the water. There's something about elevated perspectives that helps clarify thoughts.
I've been thinking about how this journey is evolving. Seventy-four days in, and I've noticed my pace slowing. Milan was stimulating but exhausting. Here in Varenna, I've found myself savoring stillness - watching light change on water, listening to church bells mark the hours, following the rhythms of a small lakeside village in its quiet season.
Perhaps this is part of what I needed to discover: that transformation doesn't always come from constant movement and new experiences. Sometimes it emerges from allowing yourself to be still, to observe deeply, to connect with one place more intimately.
On my way back down from the chapel, I stopped to chat with an elderly man tending his garden. My Italian is rudimentary at best, but between my few phrases, his bits of English, and much gesturing, we managed a conversation about his tomato plants (still producing in November thanks to the lake's moderating influence) and the weather forecast (he's certain fog will roll in tomorrow morning). These brief, genuine human connections often become the memories that linger longest.
For dinner, I returned to a small family-run restaurant I discovered yesterday. The owner recognized me and insisted I try their lake fish risotto - a specialty not on the regular menu. It was delicious, rich with saffron and white wine, the fish delicate and fresh. I paired it with a glass of local white wine and finished with an espresso that was surprisingly good.
Now, as darkness settles over Lake Como and lights begin to twinkle on the far shore, I'm contemplating my next moves. I've booked my room at Albergo del Lago for two more nights. The tranquility of Varenna feels restorative after weeks of constant movement. There's a walking path along the lakeshore I haven't explored yet, and I'd like to take the ferry to Bellagio for a day trip before moving on.
Four hundred and twenty-six days remain in this journey. The mathematical part of my brain occasionally calculates what fraction of the total experience has passed (14.8% complete), but I'm learning that measuring travel in pure numbers misses the point. Some days contain more living than others. These quiet days in Varenna have been unexpectedly rich.
The evening air has grown chillier, and the few remaining tourists have disappeared from the promenade. Time to head back to my guesthouse, make a cup of tea, and plan tomorrow's explorations. The forecast shows clear skies in the morning - perfect for that lakeshore walk before the weekend crowds appear.