It was a crazy weekend in Geneva, but I had a great time on my surprise excursion. It's great to have so many friends scattered around the world, and I really appreciate Grega hosting me for the weekend. On my way down to Verona, I ended up parked in front of the Mont Blanc tunnel for nearly two hours, but it was a beautiful day in the alps, and I joined the crowds of people that abandoned their vehicles to lay in the grass and enjoy the sun. Once I finally made the nearly 7 mile drive through the tunnel, I realized that I was probably lucky to have been one of the people waiting outside the tunnel instead of being one of the people inside with all the police, fire fighters and ambulances. I'm still not sure what happened in there, but I am sure it was more of an inconvenience than a few hours of waiting.
Once in Verona, I pulled up to a large well-manicured villa and found myself immersed in the world of the European "yacht-club" crowd. Everyone is attired in pastel colors, with collars up and sweaters draped over their shoulders. The hotel itself is completely filled with random pieces of modern art; a few naked women here, random brightly colored blobs there, sculptures of unusually contorted people sitting on pedestals, and the random incredible Venetian glass chandelier in the lobby.
After the long drive, I was in no mood to sit for an extended dinner and people watch, so I chose to have the quintessential non-Italian, Italian meal in my room. I had a Cesar Salad and Spaghetti Bolognese (ok, so Spaghetti alla Bolognese is actually Italian, but I still felt overly American ordering it). I cracked open the bottle of local red wine that the hotel had left in my room as a welcome gift, and had a nice evening in front of the TV.
Breakfast this morning was relaxing. I had an assortment of Italian cheeses with some fresh bread and prosciutto, some yogurt, a boiled egg, and a small apricot tart. The best part of sitting on the terrace by the fountain was enjoying my morning cappuccino. So often in life, one is confronted with mediocre cappucinos or worse, but in this establishment, the coffee was strong and dark, the milk properly frothed and mixed in ideal proportions with the aesthetically crucial swirl at the top. It was indeed the perfect cappucino.
Shortly, I plan on visiting the exhibit of modern art by Marc Quinn, the ticket for which was included in my room rate. The afternoon will probably involve some relaxing by the pool and some photography of the property. Tomorrow... well, I don't know about tomorrow yet, but I'm sure I'll figure it out soon enough.
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