In the UK, if someone suggests a trip out, where you were going to travel for two hours to get there and two to get back, you would tend to make a day of it. So, for instance, when we lived in Herefordshire and you decided to go to, let’s say Aberystwyth, you would set of at, say, 10 a.m., reach Aberystwyth, have lunch, enjoy the afternoon having a walk around and set off home at 6 or 7 p.m.

If, on the other hand, you were planning to go to a night club in Birmingham that’s a different story.

Here, however, on several occasions now, someone has said ‘Let’s go to …………’ This is normally a really nice place, somewhere to visit to see the town, the buildings, the churches. It’s in a nice location say, by a lake, in the mountains, by the sea.

Yesterday was Lake Orta. This makes the third lake we’ve been to in the last 3 months. Not having been to any of the lakes before, it’s been very nice. We spent a whole weekend at Lake Maggiore, a longish afternoon and evening at Lake Como and then Lake Orta.

Lake Orta is one of the smaller, less touristy lakes. The town of Orta (or is it a city?) is beautiful, overlooking, as it does, the island that was, for a time, quite a seat of power in the region

The plan was, to leave about 3 p.m. It was said it was about an hour away or just over.

We left at 5. Siamo in Italia, of course. We arrived at Orta at 7. It didn’t help that we got kinda lost on the way. This is down to Italian road signing. We come off the motorway at the sign that says ‘Lake Orta this way’ on one of those bold brown heritage signs. After we had paid the toll for the motorway, we reached the main, trunk road where we had to turn left or right.

Unfortunately, in superb Italian fashion, there were no signs to anything except local towns. So, which way to go? We pick right because it looks the most promising, heading towards the mountains as it does.

We drive for about 20 minutes and still no signs even at roundabouts, major junctions, etc. So we pull into a garage to ask directions. Oh yes, we can get there on this road, but really we should be on another road that’s parallel! So we continue and within 5 minutes start seeing signs again for Lake Orta. But later the signs disappear again and later still, show up again, with us making several guesses at various points.

It’s hot in the car and A says that he hasn’t had time to fill the air con with the fluid. Personally, I’m not convinced that it has air con since the controls look normal heater controls to me, but maybe it’s right. And, even at 6 p.m. it’s hot. Not as hot as in Milan, but seemingly hotter as we are stuck in a car that is like a Ford Fiesta – in the back with just vent windows, not full wind-down windows.

Anyway, we reach Orta. Park outside the town (it’s (almost) car free in the town itself) and walk down. It is a beautiful town. The lake is very pretty and the town square full of restaurants and bars and people enjoying the day, well, evening.

We book a table at the restaurant for 8.30 and have enough time for an aperitivo in one of the cafés overlooking the square and the lake.

Not enough time to walk around the town. It’s not dark, but the sun is starting to go down. We chat and watch the swallows doing their acrobatics over the square, watch the people and the fat children (for they do have a real problem here with overfeeding the kids).

We learn an interesting thing. A is a twin, which we already knew. I ask him who the eldest is and he says that he is. But then it transpires that he was not first out. So, for him, his brother was first, which makes A the eldest. Perhaps it is lost in translation but he speaks good English, so I’m not sure of that. We explain that the first-born in the UK is the eldest instead. Maybe it was just something said to him to make him feel better and not second, if you see what I mean. Ah well, perhaps I’ll have chance to find out if I find another Italian twin sometime here.

We go to eat. We have a table outside, under the ‘veranda’, overlooking the lake towards the island. Idyllic. As A & F are on a diet, this is their ‘free day’ and F always wants pizza, her favourite food. We have some nice Antipasti (2 dishes that we share between the four of us), a couple of very nice Primi Piattis that we share again. V chooses steak for his Secondo whilst the three of us choose pizza. Quite dreadful pizzas, which was a shame. V’s steak was, by far, the best thing. They obviously don’t really do pizzas. We sink a couple of bottles of very nice white wine.

Then we pay (very expensive for what it was) as we have decided to have dolce at a place we saw on the way. A specialist in chocolate so we are looking forward to that. As it turns out, the specialty is bitter, bitter chocolate. So bitter that it is, almost, unpleasant. The setting is a small, old courtyard and is stunning. The deserts less so for the lack of sweetness.

We pay and go. It’s gone 11.30. A is tired and I offer to drive or take over if he wants. But he is Italian and doesn’t want. We don’t get off the motorway at the place we got on as this means a drive through town but rather go on to the east side of Milan. Unfortunately, as it is 1.30 ish, the motorway is closed for some works and the traffic is horrendous. Eventually, we get home.

It was really lovely. The company was good, we had a good laugh, the setting was perfect, the food (until the pizza and desert) was fantastic. But I wish they’d said – ‘Let’s go for the evening to Lake Orta’. Then I would know what to expect.

We will go back – but just the two of us. And then we’ll make it a real ‘day’. I don’t mind staying into the late evening and having a meal, we’ve done that before, but at least we would have a longer time to look at the shops (for V), look at some churches (for me) and, generally, to walk around and soak up the atmosphere a little more.

One other thing that we find strange. The reason (or one of them) for leaving later is that F is having her period. Now, normally I would not mention this. However, here, it seems very normal for this to be discussed. The very most you would get in the UK (at least to males) would be ‘it’s the time of the month’ or, preferably, nothing. Here they talk about it freely to everyone. I find it a bit disconcerting. I mean, I DO understand but that doesn’t mean I actually want to KNOW, us not having that problem.

However, I’ve never known people with such a propensity for illness or danger of illness and please look at Blog from Italy – Sweating is dangerous for you where one of the weirdest ideas, which I’ve not heard of before, is discussed. It’s no wonder they think that we’re strange when they have ideas like this!

On a final note, S has officially moved in. He is, as I write, collecting the rest of his stuff from his ex-girlfriend’s house (well, her parent’s house). He is only 18, bless him, and from Australia (but he can’t help where he was born). Oh yes, and who was the person from Brisbane/Melbourne who seemed to look at most posts in the early hours (our time) of yesterday morning? If you visit again, I’d love to know who you are. I know that you were looking for V as you typed V’s full name into Google and that was how you came to the site, so it implies that it’s someone we know – but who can it be?

And finally, finally, it seems that V has had to change holidays and now we shall only have one week together – so that kind of buggers up all out plans for August. Grrr. I was looking forward to a couple of weeks away but now it will be August in Milan and, for the first time, I really wanted to get away but a week is really not worth it. Damn and blast.