A Captain's Welcome and the Hunt for Milky Rapids

VARENNA, ITALY -- May 13, 2006

I smiled to myself as I boarded the ferry heading to Varenna. It's hard to complain about traveling solo when I seem to so easily find myself with dinner company an hour after setting foot in a new town. But things only picked up from there.

No sooner had I settled into my wooden perch on the top level of the ferry, but a uniformed crewman approached me to check my ticket. Satisfied with my offering to the ferry gods, he then began gesturing and pointing to captain's deck, all the while saying something in rapid-fire Italian which I could not even partially understand. My meager language skills were no match for his thick Italian, but as far as I could tell, he was asking me if I'd like to visit the captain's deck and steer the boat. Of course! It's not every day I get to be more than just a mere passenger on deck in a foreign country, of all places!

I excitedly following behind him, and was warmly greeted by a crew of four men keepin watch from their perfect panoramic perch. They insisted I join them at the table where it appeared they were enjoying a light dinner. No sooner had I sat down then they foisted a plate of salami slices and crusty bread in my face and cheerfully ordered, 'Mangia! Mangia' (Eat, eat!) An empty glass appeared, and they filled it with vino rosso to match the rest around the table. With a hearty 'Salute!', we toasted each other and sipped the red liquid away.

Twenty short minutes later, I was waving goodbye to my fellow shipmates as I stood on the banks of Varenna. It didn't take long for me to stumble across the charms of this cozy little lake town. I followed a steep, stony path for a gasp-inducing hike to Castello di Vezio, from where I was privy to some of the most panoramic views over the lake from anywhere along its borders. The sights were unbelievable, and I found myself struggling to use some self-restraint as I fired away one carefully composed photo after another.

From there, I took a shady pathway descending to the town of Fiumilatte, famous for its milk river that tumbles down the mountainside. At only 800 feet iin lenght, it is Europe's shortest river. I must have gotten a little off-course, because as I found myself wandering through a quiet neighborhood, an elderly gentleman greeted me with a map and began directing me (in pure Italian!) to the Sorgente (source of the river). I managed to find my way there, and paused on the bridge overlooking the milky (Italian: latte, i.e. Fiumilatte) rapids cascading down to the lake.

Pulling off a well-timed ferry connection from Varenna's main port to Menaggio, I showered up and slipping into my 99 Euro red silk dress that I bough in Granada several weeks ago. Tonight would be its debut, as Wally was meeting me at the dock for dinner. He showed up in his flashy black Cougar (a sporty, stylish little V6 -- would you expect anything less from an Italian with machismo?). We cruised Nascar-style along the 1.5-lane lakeside road that was saturated with beautiful views and dangerous S-curves. As we neared the town of Cernobbio, Wally pointed out an estate owned by a rather well-known Hollywood Bachelor -- George Clooney.

Finally in Como, we popped into a pizzeria that, according to Wally, really knew how to serve it up. Eyeing the menu, I was overwhelmed with choices. I felt like I was in a Mexican restaurant, trying to decide between the 307 combinations on offer. I had never seen so many variations of pizza! I left the decision in Wally's hands, and he truly didn't disappoint. My pizza arrived layered with fruti del mare, Italian for 'seafood' (literally: fruit of the sea). Calamari, oysters, scallops, crab, all melded into a bed of pomodoro e mozzarella. It was delicious!

We rounded out the evening with a stop at one of Como's most popular night stops, where I watching Italian twenty-somethings salsa en masse to the Latin vibes streaming through the speakers. a 15 Euro cover seemed pretty steep, but the club opened out onto the lakefront and a starry sky above. And if you looked closely and let your eyes adjust to the darkness, you could make out the outlines of the alpi (alps) jutting into the midnight sky. This was the perfect Italian day from start to finish, and as I thought back over my adventures since awakening this morning, I was overwhelmed with a deep and powerful feeling that gripped me from the inside and tugged and my heartstrings until tears welled up in my eyes. This is my life! I almost had to pinch myself to believe it.

To anyone reading this who is holding on tightly to a dream that you just can't let go of, hear this -- do whatever it takes to bring that dream to life. Sell the car. Trade your sushi roll lunch for peanut butter sandwiches. Rediscover the joys of windowshopping and put away the money you have spent on that new pair of shoes. Make the hundreds -- if not thousands -- of small sacrifices required to bring your dream to life. Because now that I am living mine, I would trade nothing -- NOTHING -- for the joy that fills me every morning, asI wake to greet another day of adventure in a foreign land. And I feel it changing me, strethcing me, teaching em to savor the good and accept that life is change, both unexpected and wonderful.

~Melanie