Italian color pop and hot

I was in Italy for two weeks where it was hot hot hot, with temperatures always hovering in the 90s (with 100 F on some days). 

Italy from where I live in Northern New England always feels like you are exiting a black and white movie and entering technicolor, a bit like in "The Wizard of Oz." Colors pop in Italy, from the "spremute di arancia" (fresh squeezed orange juice), served on the Piazza San Spirito in Florence, to the paintings on the walls of the Brera Museum in Milan, to the yellow shirt of that woman quietly having her (very) early morning coffee at Malpensa Airport. 

My partner and I traveled to Florence, Milan and Bergamo, an hour east of Milan. In the middle of it all, we had a day with a rental car, with my daughter flying into Malpensa airport. We drove to Lake Iseo, with the idea that we would swim in the lake in order to cool off from the relentless heat. We discovered the town of Lovere (LOvere), forgotten almost, with those telephone signs still hanging on the outside of shops that must have, at one point in time, been the only places where one could send or receive a call. While the town offered its charms of narrow streets and medieval houses, the lake itself was conspicuously lacking a. beaches and b. swimmers. We did manage to pull over at a grassy area with beach accommodations (showers, toilets), but the water was dubiously clean. The drive to Sarnico was quite the surprise, I was behind the wheel, not expecting the curvy narrow road built into the rocks, that offered unearthly views across to the blue of the lake and the equally precipitous coast line across the way (here is a link to the Sarnico to Lovere annual footrace to get an idea of the beauty of that road). I concentrated on the road, doing my best to keep up with the local drivers and not run over cyclists or pedestrians. 

How do people stay cool when days remain very hot? The long dresses that bear the shoulders and skirt the ankles seemed a popular choice. 

One other strategy involved leaving very early in the morning on our cultural explorations. My partner and I would walk down to the city center of Florence from our little house in the olive groves.  One morning we arrived at Piazza San Spirito at a time when the tourists were still asleep, and the locals were enjoying their morning coffee (and newspaper, people still read newspapers in Italy), and walking their dogs. 

I don't know which city in Italy I love the most. They are all beautiful to the eye, sometimes overwhelming (Stendhal wrote about it in his travels, and it has become known as "Stendhal Syndrome), filled with little places to eat and drink reliably good pastry, panini and coffee, and the locals treat you with politeness and patience when you speak Italian to them (which I invariably do, thank you to all the Italians that I have treated as my language instructors on the go).

Milan might turn out to be my favorite city, however, because it simply amuses one with its easygoing mix of the very old and the very new/hip/trendy/too cool for school. In this photo, for instance, I am in a converted tie factory that now features contemporary furnishings by young designers.  In Milan, one can visit old churches, modern museums and eat extremely well. But hands down, what I enjoy the most is the endless street show, from old mustard yellow trams ringadinging to very stylishly dressed men and women casually standing around like this is their normal way of being. 

Bergamo is an old medieval hill town, with a lower town throwing its more modern girdle around it. We borrowed a friend's apartment in the upper town, where we got to know the unbelievably friendly baker down the stairs (but alas never learned his name) who tried helping us with a power outage (note to all: "salva vita," save life, is also the reset switch on the breaker box in case the circuits are blown).  A local pub served its own IPA, a bowl of chips and a small plate of dips and toast for the reasonable sum of 4 euros. 

Florence is dense with beauty and culture as well, surrounded by olive groves, cypress trees and villas perched on hillsides. Rome, Syracusa, Palermo, Venice, Verona... I haven't even unpacked my bags yet and I am already planning the next trip.

Italy, a country where time seems to have stood still, while trains do go fast, connecting the big cities (Milan to Florence under two hours) and beer is fast becoming ... yet another pleasant way to cool off on those hot summer days. 

Shop window, Milan

Milan, in the Roman walls

 In the olive groves above Florence