ITALIAN LAKES.
We left Milan for Baveno on Monday, 28th May, at noon. It was a slow train to Arona, where passengers embark on board the steamer on Lago Maggiore. Unfortunately, just before arrival at Arona, the rain began to fall heavily, so that we not only had to walk on board in the rain, but we did not see the lake to advantage. For although the rain shortly ceased, the clouds remained and no sunshine succeeded, and a haze hung over the lake, which then assumed very much the appearance of one of our Highland lochs in similar condition, except for the Italian character and bright colouring of the houses on the margin. On a sunny day the lake would, no doubt, wear a different aspect. Fortunately it continued fair till we got housed in the large, comfortable Hotel Belle Vue at Baveno, which, lying at the point of a jutting promontory upon the border of the lake, looks out right upon it. Soon afterwards, however, the rain again began, and it fell in torrents, to our great disappointment, and continued almost without intermission till the Friday afternoon, when it cleared up, and in the evening of that day we had a beautiful sunset, with the sun shining brightly upon the Simplon, to see which effect all the people in the hotel turned out upon a balcony commanding it. In consequence of the clouds we hardly ever could see across the lake, so much so that I could only finish on the Friday evening a sketch of it which I began on the Monday afternoon upon arrival, the mountains being invisible or under a gloomy pall nearly the whole intervening time. When we could catch the view it was very beautiful. The lake is here just sufficiently broad to form a fine picture, the bold, well-marked, conical mountains on the other or east side,—one of the peaks, I believe, rising to about 6000 feet,—the neighbouring town of Pallanza on the north, and the mountains behind it composing the background to the lake, studded by the charming Borromean Islands, lying so picturesquely near, with their curious houses and their trees; Isola Bella, with its strange gardens, being an especial feature. These islands are the great attraction to Baveno; but unfortunately we had not the opportunity of seeing them, except from the steamboat in passing, as the days were never fair sufficiently long to permit of our venturing in a boat to land upon them. If there be anything else to see in the neighbourhood of Baveno, as doubtless there was, we had little means of becoming acquainted with it, for usually upon venturing out for a walk we were speedily driven back again by warning drops. The town itself is a mere village, although the houses are capacious—bulky, barrack-looking—and the church on the slope above is large, with a high, square, ugly campanile. Luckily, the windows of our rooms, as well as of the public rooms, all looked over the lake; and there was a library of books for visitors’ use, which, in this unpropitious condition of the atmosphere, received marked attention from all; but it was the dreariest time we had spent since we left home, reminding us rather too much of Loch Lomond in its normal condition.
When the Saturday morning came with bright sunshine we were glad to avail ourselves of it, lest we might become prisoners for another week, and to be off accordingly for Lugano, which is situated on a portion of outlying Swiss territory overlapping Italy, so that one has to cross an odd nook of Switzerland to get from Maggiore to Lake Como. The trip in the steamboat is pleasant, and in crossing from Baveno to Pallanza, which is probably about three miles distant by water, we had the good fortune to see both the Simplon and Monte Rosa through a gap in the mountains—the latter raising its snowy head in the distance. Pallanza is a place which some people prefer to Baveno for stopping at in order to see Lago Maggiore. It is much more of a town, and, commanding the view of Monte Rosa, has a finer outlook, while it is not very much farther from Isola Bella and the other islands, a pull to which must be most enjoyable. From Pallanza the steamer crossed to the other side of the lake, then went up to Luino, where we disembarked, and on our leaving it proceeded to the northern extremity with those en route for the St. Gothard Pass. It was a glorious sail in the bright sunshine, with Monte Rosa, the Simplon, and also, in the upper portion, St. Gothard, all appearing snow-clad in view. The porter of the hotel had asked us to allow him to telegraph for a carriage to be waiting us at Luino, and willing to oblige him we consented, but we should have been better to have chosen one for ourselves upon arrival. However, it was a lovely drive of above two hours and a half to Lugano, part of the way being by the banks of a river, which was greatly swollen by the five days’ previous rain. The Hotel du Parc at Lugano is nicely situated near the lake at the entrance to the town, and has a small garden attached to it. It was formerly a monastery, and is built as a large square house, with a courtyard in the middle. Bædeker recommends Lugano as a very pleasant place for a lengthened stay; and it may be so, but we were anxious to get on to Lake Como to rest there, and remained only three nights.
Hot sunny weather succeeded the week of rain, so that we enjoyed walks by the banks of the gleaming lake, plucking the wild-flowers, which were abundant, though not of many kinds. The town of Lugano looks very well in the distance—a mile off—at the head or north end of the lake, but it is not particularly enticing in itself, and it lies too much on the level of the water, so that the road was, when we arrived, half covered, the lake having, in consequence of the continued rain, overflowed its banks. The Lake of Lugano looks bold, and in a storm would look angry, from the fact that except at the north end the mountains appear to dip almost sheer down upon it. I believe the sail from the other end to Lugano (which is what those who purchase circular tickets from Milan obtain a coupon for) is very grand, but a gentleman I subsequently met told me he had experienced a terrific storm upon it, in which the vessel was in the greatest danger, as the sailors could not see where they were being driven to, by reason of a dense fog.
Upon the Monday we walked in a broiling sun, from which we could not always obtain shelter, about two miles up the road leading to the top of San Salvatore, which, 3000 feet high, is the great ascent here, and to those in good health and active, the exercise is rewarded by an extensive prospect, while a hotel offers refreshment on the summit. Choosing shady places where to rest, we spent a charming day upon this road, which everywhere commanded fine views, particularly down upon the lake and up to the snowy mountains of the St. Gothard range.
In the old church adjoining the hotel there are three frescoes by Luini, a pupil of Leonardo da Vinci. The principal fresco, that of the Crucifixion, is a curious large picture, containing within it, expressively depicted and cleverly arranged, all the different scenes connected with the death of our Saviour, from His trial to His ascension. But the three crosses are lengthened to what represents 20 feet at least, in order to admit of use being made of the background. Many angels are ministering to our Lord, while one angel is on the cross of the repentant thief, and a devil crawling along the other cross has charge of his sinful fellow. A skull and cross-bones at the foot of the central cross indicate the place to be Golgotha. The picture is quite a study.
We left Lugano for Bellaggio on the Monday morning by steamer for Porlezza, at the east end of the lake, about ten miles distant. Before reaching it we crossed the invisible line which here separates Italy from Switzerland, and the steamer was boarded by an Italian custom-house officer. Upon arrival at Porlezza our luggage underwent the formality of examination, and we the reality of detention for a considerable time until the examination was concluded. From this town to Menaggio, on Lake Como, the drive was in an omnibus, and we regretted much afterwards not having had a carriage to ourselves, as we could see little from the omnibus windows. The distance is about six or seven miles, and inclines gradually to the shoulder of a hill overlooking Lake Como; and in such a bright, sunny day as we were favoured with, the drive in an open carriage would have been delightful, especially on approaching Lake Como from the high ground, where it is seen lying magnificently below. One advantage of a private carriage is that it may be stopped at the will of the party, and the scene viewed at leisure. Coach and omnibus fares here were quite after Highland rates. At Menaggio, finding the steamboat would not arrive for an hour and a half, we took a boat (charge, 3 fr.), and were in three-quarters of an hour rowed across the lake to the Hotel Grand Bretagne, which is nicely situated away to the south end of Bellaggio, and outside the small town. It was hot, broiling sunshine, and this, our first experience of a boat upon Como, was exceedingly charming. Blinds were all down, and nobody observed our arrival, so our boatman had to shout from the quay across the garden to the hotel porter. We found very comfortable quarters in this hotel, which is a large, long building, with many bedrooms looking to the lake; for, if I am not mistaken, there were upwards of 100 bedroom windows overlooking it. The ground floor is entirely occupied by a suite of public rooms, terminating at one end in a large, airy dining-hall, and on the other in a superb, similarly large drawing-room, both with suitably lofty ceilings. Other public rooms on this floor are occupied as salles à manger and salons de conversation, de concert et de lecture, de billiard, etc. In one of the reading-rooms there was a small library for the use of the visitors. I do not think we had found anywhere such ample public accommodation within doors, while in front a large garden extended the whole length of the house, reaching up into grounds and a wood behind, with shady seats under the trees, where one could sit and read, or look out upon the lovely views, or watch the passing steamers and pleasure-boats, or observe the countless green lizards which at Bellaggio, as elsewhere in these warm regions, were constantly making rapid runs over the paths.
