Bay of the Mermaids

For my last full day in Bardolino, yay! the sun was shining! I read the Buongiorno Benaco newsletter over breakfast and found I was too late to go on a trip on a sailing ship (it was already 9 am). Decided to head to the private beach on the peninsula at Punta Vigilia, between Garda and Torri de Benaco.

Ti cut a long story short, I was very late for the bus but when I went to buy a ticket I heard that there had been a strike, but it was due to end soon. I waited anyway, and the bus turned up a mere 20 minutes late. Fine weather had brought out a stream of traffic blocking the road for miles, fortunately in the other direction. Once off, I followed some others and walked down an avenue of cypress trees ( to the Italians, these trees signify everlasting memories), passing an exclusive compound with swimming pools and a Helipad on my left, until I took a right down to my slightly less exclusive beach resort. I don't remember paying to go to a beach before, but it was worth it: loungers among the olive groves, a bars, a cafe, showers, play areas, and so on.

Above all, the beautiful view of lake beach and mountains in this beautiful 'bay of the mermaids'.
I stayed for some hours, enjoying the relative peace, and even swimming out to the pontoon. Then water was to cold to hang about in! Then I explored the charming parts of the peninsula that are open to the public (most of it) and walked back to Garda, partly along the road and then along the beach, which involved quite a lot of walking in the Lake! The best of the free beaches are just beyond Garda, I've found. I shall remember that.

The bus from Garda took me right to my hotel in Bardolino, and for my last evening I went into town again to enjoy the wine festival market (tens of stalls, all along the walkway, selling sixteen types of licquorice; twenty varieties of pesto; olives...). Treated myself to another gorgeous meal at La Virata, but it was Friday-night busy and I was not able to sit streetside.

One last night walk along the lungolago passeggiata, hearing the quacking and splashing of the night creatures, and the slap, slap slap of gentle waves breaking on the shingle shore.