Isola Maggiore

The other morning I got up early and caught the ferry out to Isola Maggiore. There are three islands on lake Trasimeno, Isola Maggiore (Big Island), Isola Minore (Small Island, so small there's nothing on it), and Isola Polvese (Dust Island, which like Iceland, is a misnomer since the island is actually a regional park). What I love is that the islands have constantly been given as gifts, to noblemen, popes, as a wedding dowry. But yet they were always occupied. I guess the fisherman and their families living on these islands had no claim.

The ferry ride takes 10 minutes and is lovely and cool. Once there I take what my guidebook listed as "an easy pedestrian path" out to the castle. It's steep and dusty and not particularly easy. I get to the castle, and you know what? It's been closed for renovations since 2005. It would have been nice to know that before I forked over 6 euros for the ferry! But that's okay, I'll go see one of the many churches. I take the next pedestrian path, also hot, dusty, and there are these bugs that swarm out at you as you pass. The church is closed. There are some annoyed Italians there as well.

I head to the next church, because even if it's closed, it has a nice portico I'd like to draw. It's closed, I do a drawing. I then take the path along the lake to the other side of the island. Saint Francis spent some time here and there is a statue and altar dedicated to him. It's hot, there are more of those swarming bugs, and when I get out there, the statue is kind of cheesy. I turn around and head back.

Finally in town I find a sign saying that the churches open at 10:30. I head back up the steep pedestrian path to the first church because it's supposed to have some nice frescoes. As I pay my money and enter, I recognize the guide from my ferry boat. We came over together, and then he probably went and had a cappuccino, chatted with some people, went and collected his cash box, and then moseyed his way up the hill, while I stupidly marched around the whole island getting heat exhaustion.

So now I'm in the church, dripping sweat, and trying to decide whether to race down and catch the next ferry, or to stop and draw one of the frescoes. I decide to stop being an over-ambitious American, have a seat, enjoy doing my drawing as I cool off. Then I mosey my way back down hill, relax in a cafe and have a mortadella sandwich, and stroll onto the next ferry home. One of these days I'll get the hang of it.