The rental car is smaller than expected. Much smaller. There are no alternatives, they explain. It’s the only one available. Luggage is rearranged several times before everything fits. under legs, between seats. Old Tetris instincts come in useful. The back seat settles into a tighter configuration than planned.

At Lake Garda, towns sit close to the water, paved in stone and compact enough to move through without direction. Small enough for children to run ahead through narrow lanes, turning corners in search of ice cream. Cycling along the promenade is flat and steady.

Even in autumn, there are queues and movement through the streets. A gondola lifts into the mountains. At the top, paths lead out in all directions. For us, distances stay short. Still enough to watch a line of paragliders step off the ridge and drift out over the water.

we head to Milan for a match at San Siro. Highways replace narrow lakeside roads. On the motorway, another lesson follows. At the exit barrier, everything stops. A ticket is required. Ours is missing. Cars line up behind while buttons are pressed without result. A man further back in the queue steps out and walks forward. He explains the system: you take a ticket when entering the motorway, then scan and pay when leaving. Ours has been misplaced. With his help and a call to support, the barrier eventually lifts.

And The stadium is reached on time. It rises above the neighbourhood before the entrance appears. The sound carries first — a steady hum building as the crowd gathers.

In Bergamo, the city is divided in two. Città Bassa spreads across the plain. Above it, Città Alta, reached by steep streets or the funicular. The walls surrounding it stretching wide enough to walk along. From there, the view reaches toward the Alps.

Inside the old town, narrow lanes move between stone façades and small squares. The Cappella Colleoni stands close to the main square, its façade patterned in marble.

At Lake Como, the day begins early. Blankets are brought onto the balcony before sunrise. It takes longer than expected for the sun to clear the mountains. But then its there.

Later, there’s swimming from the edge. Teenagers jump into a deeper pool along the shore. Lunch comes from a nearby pizzeria and is eaten at a picnic table close to the water.

In the evenings, Narrow, winding roads lead to larger towns around the lake.

At a small bar-bistro, plates arrive with slices of cheese, pinsa, Olive oil pooled on the side. Honey-braised walnuts.

we are not even surprised that the food is good.
it is simply expected.