An Italian micro adventure... and I didn't kill any cyclists! (that I know of.....)

So, 2022 is the year of the #microadventure! Not that I haven't been having these throughout the last year and, in fairness, 2021 was probably my busiest year of travelling to date, at a time when mobilities were stifled. Alastair Humphreys, the intrepid explorer coined the term “microadventure” as “an adventure that is short, simple, local, cheap – yet still fun, exciting, challenging, refreshing and rewarding”. For me, I'm taking it to mean any adventure, no matter how near or far that is squeezed into a tiny window of opportunity in amongst my many other commitments.

Since August started school and childcare patterns changed, the maximum window for doing anything without disrupting his care, which I wouldn't want to do, is 48 hours. Therefore, let's see this as a challenge of how creative I can be with that time.

A quick round of #Skyscanner Lotto, and filtered search results according to price for that 48-hour window of availability, made Italy, #Milan specifically the cheapest viable option. A 05:50 departure from Stanstead on the Saturday morning and return early hours of the morning on the Monday. Milan in itself doesn't hold a great appeal for me. Although I love cities, I've been to and through there on a number of occasions and wouldn't feel massively compelled to go back again. However, Milan is a wonderful gateway for possibilities onto some amazing other locations, particularly aided by the fantastic and cheap public transportation system in Italy. Verona? Again? Although I think it's one of my favourite all time cities I really didn't want to tread over old ground. Having also developed a newfound love for physical fitness and open water swimming, there was some pretty obvious choices of where to head to from #Milan. Lake Garda? A bit further afield and one I had visited many times, but again a huge favourite. Lake Como? Lake Maggiore? Within an easy reach of Milan #Malpensa airport.

Just to add at this point that having reached the decision that the weekend would be about health, well-being and trying to run, walk and swim as much as I can, I wanted to maximise exploration possibilities, and with the stunning deal of £12 for the weekend to rent a car, that's what I did. I was sure that I'd been to #Lake #Como the year before cutting through up to #Switzerland as part of a European Duggie road trip and based upon that brief experience I would certainly go back. I booked the cheapest possible accommodation I could find, which was a hostel in the town of Como – Ostello Bello (and it was!).

The entire weekend, flight, accommodation, and car hire had cost less than 50 pounds. l exclude the ridiculous cost of Stanstead airport parking however. It never fails to amaze me that, in every single overseas trip I’ve had recently, the cost of car parking at UK airports trumps the entire cost for the rest of the trip.

So, what's the current COVID situation in Italy? And what are the requirements? So, there had been a few changes to COVID related travel requirements since I’d last taken an overseas trip, and admittedly tiring from the COVID monotony, had zoned out from what precisely the requirements were. A quick search on the Foreign Office, Travel Advice, Entry Requirements pages inform me that, for fully vaccinated travellers, you would need to complete a passenger locator form and produce an antigen test taken within 24 hours of departure to travel to Italy at this time. You'd also need one of those super duper mega sanitary towels to wear on your face and stop you being able to respire.

Testing is of course an area that can really hike up the prices, so I invested quite a bit of time in trying to find the cheapest option that wasn't a scam. I ordered a £15 test from Confirm Testing. It arrived through the door within 48hrs, although I would anticipate that that delay was actually Royal Mail’s because the delivery notice said that it was due for delivery the day before. I left doing the test right to the very last minute because, from all of the available documentation it appeared that Italy was taking things very seriously indeed and in anticipation of possibly crossing the border into Switzerland to explore the #Ticino region, famed for gorges, rivers and #waterfalls and therefore some great wild swimming opportunities, I wanted to make sure I was covered from a testing point of view. I really needn’t have worried!

So, before I went to bed on the Friday evening to get a few quick hours sleep before I was up at 1:00 AM ready for the drive down to Stanstead I did the rather convoluted self-evidencing antigen test and anxiously awaited the result, which meant that sleep was fitful at best. Results confirming that I officially didn’t have covid (no shit sherlock) actually came through within three hours. Fantastic! I will just say though that at no point departing from Stanstead or arriving into Milan, did anyone request any evidence whatsoever of me having done that test, which begs the question…... Additionally, no one asked to see the Italian passenger locator form either. So, aside from the price, why #Milan? Within an hour and 40 minutes it's possible to travel somewhere that is so geographically and culturally distinct from the UK. Great success! It's a really viable option for a very brief trip. Flying into Milan is pretty spectacular too, albeit rather hair raising at the same time. You fly low over the Alps, and at this time of year can enjoy the absolute beauty of the snow tipped peaks. Of course, with Italy also comes the divine food, and the divine pinot grigio.

All went smoothly. I didn't oversleep my alarm. The drive down to Stanstead, despite being knackered from the night before was easy. No traffic at that time of the day. The short-term parking at Stanstead, although ridiculously priced is just a short walk to the terminal and you're through and efficiently processed and ready to board after a yummy yet healthy breakfast from Leon (a personal fave). The other end at #Milan #Malpensa, again this is one well designed airport. Coupled with Berlin Brandenburg, this is how airports should be designed. All automated processing, I was literally off the plane and through and out of the main entrance of terminal 1 arrivals within about 15 minutes, ready to start a long wait and blind faith that the Centauro free shuttle bus would turn up at some point in time.

It did and I was introduced to my £6 a day Citroen C3. A word on driving in Italy. Petrifying. My body physiologically doesn't have the capacity to concentrate in the way in which Italian driving necessitates concentration. My entire body aches from the self-induced whiplash of Italian driving tension. A heady combination of passionate drivers, lack of distancing, narrow windy roads, and a massive dollop of lycra-clad cyclists makes for a hair-raising experience. But, with pride, I can confirm that, to my knowledge, I didn't kill any cyclists this weekend (not for want of trying). I did drive through a number of tunnels with no lights on and did drive, or try to drive, until the flashing from oncoming vehicles made me freeze and attempt a U-turn the wrong way down a dual carriage way, but I would regard that a very successful trip. I think I'm now ready to take on India.

I will just pause on the topic of cyclists. The place was lousy with them. I seem to have developed an intense dislike of formalised cycling activity in which people wear ridiculous lycra outfits, no doubt influenced by a bad memory from way back combined with cyclist/ locals conflict in the village where I used to live. They get in the way and cause a hazard for drivers. However, I can't dislike Italian cyclists, I just can’t. The antithesis of the saggy nappy crotch lycra wearing, slightly paunchy middle-aged man in lycra (MAMILS), oh there's no such thing in Italy! Yes, I appear to be turning into an old perv! but gotta have some perks of ageing disgracefully! However, just to underline the point, every cyclist I saw appeared to be at the peak of physical fitness and the lycra costumes fitted like a finely crafted glove!

So, the order of the weekend was #wellness. I wanted to #run, #walk, #swim if possible and soak in the scenery. The good life. My battery power is feeling pretty low at the moment and desperately needed a boost. So, day one I went chasing waterfalls despite being told not to by my friend Alison. And I found one after an awful lot of time wasting and wrong turns. But it was everything that the Timotei advert had promised to be. There was no one around, that was of course until it was time to get changed out of my wet clothes and some poor dog walker got a bit of an eyeful. The water was cold, but not as cold as I was expecting and the pool into which the waterfall was cascading was breath-taking.

No swimming signs ignored, I did hope that the caution of falling rocks would not come to pass. Whilst the water was cold the air was warm and the sun beating down, I tootled back to the car humming a merry tune, feeling at peace with the world, battery level rising.

The next day I decided I wanted to swim in the lake. It looks so inviting. Calm waters lapping the shores, you could see right down to the crystal-clear bottom. It didn't seem that it was possible to swim everywhere on the shores of #Como, certainly no one else was swimming and the people that were around were trussed up in fur coats, hats and scarves the mentalist idea of taking a refreshing dip in the winter would not be something to be entertained. I was surprised though, given the growth of the wild swimming movement that somewhere a whole lot warmer than some of the I waters have swam in in England, wouldn't have a few more people taking a dip on a Sunday morning. Hey ho I wasn't gonna let it stop me. I drove halfway up the western shore of Lake #Como to a place called #Maltrasio, which was supposed to have a Lido and naturist beach. I saw no such evidence of this and no beach to speak of but it was as if a beautiful little private spot had been placed there just for me. The sun was beating down, it was warm and perhaps whilst not a particularly spiritual person, at that very moment, with the water very lapping, the sun amber in colour from the haze on the hillside, I felt the greatest sense of peace and ease I had felt in a long time.

Not overlooked by anybody I changed into my swimwear and got into the water which really didn't feel that cold although with an air temperature of 5 degrees it probably was fairly chilly. A concrete groyne was a great place to sit and warm up afterwards and greet the bemused looking kayakers that came past.

After having sat awhile, I continued to walk along the coast. This is a really #beautiful stretch, one of which every few paces I'll be stopping to take a photo and exclaim “isn't this fucking beautiful?” over and over. This is a fairly typical reaction to Italy for me to be fair. It’s just beaut in every way. I then drove to the opposite shore towards #Bellano, to a place where there was an advertised waterfall tourist attraction. The photographs on TripAdvisor were slightly misleading, I'd really got my hopes up thinking I would be bathing in plunging falls and accompanying turquoise blue pool, not realising that there was a 50 foot drop down to those and they were fringed by tacky festive garb and hordes of tourists taking dramatic selfies. Nice to look at nevertheless, and the town of #Bellano was just beautiful yet again.

I headed back to Como and after having waited for so long to find a parking spot because, of course, on Sunday afternoon that's when people go promenading.

A word on promenading. It's a massive thing. Donned in fur coat, leather trousers, Gucci shades and Louboutins and styling it out over those cobbles, whilst your British counterpart here is looking a little bit warm and sweaty, her hair like a fraggle from her days exertions. I find it precious and curious cultural activity, but ultimately just get pissed off with how slowly people are walking! Chop Chop!

#Hostelling. I'm never really stayed in that many hostels. I think the first time I did, in Cairns Australia when I'd set off with my then boyfriend on our backpacking trip put me off. It was too cliquey for my liking, and in fairness in subsequent travels I've preferred to keep myself to myself or I've been travelling with someone else and therefore it was just as viable to stay in an alternative form of accommodation. Driven by the necessity for everything to be ultra-cheap a hostel this time was the best option. I'm so glad I opted to do that because it's reignited an interest in the hostelling concept, I really like it. The idea of self-sufficiency, respect, responsibility and importantly the opportunity to meet people you wouldn't ordinarily meet, broadening your perspectives and horizons - one of my main travel motivators at this time. And it was at the Ostello Bello that I met my first global nomad; Anya. What an amazing and exciting life. That is one of the pure aspects of othering…. I’m there gazing at her life thinking “wouldn’t that be amazing” and she's there affirming that I'm still doing pretty much the same thing although fitting that around the other things I truly value.

So, what's the effect of a #microadventure? Is it worth it? Too damn right it is! I think I've said this before, but I often find a shorter break more rejuvenating than a longer one. After just a day of being somewhere different you can feel like you've been away for ages, batteries recharged, new experiences experienced, a state of clear headedness, a state of inspiration, appreciation, and heightened capacity for creative thought. Simply put, if 48 hours is all you have, why not make the most of it?