Italy 118 - Breschia/ Mirko and the tyre/policemen in Gucci uniforms/Chicken with lemon sauce /don't the young give up their seats anymore /Fascist city architecture

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We woke to the most fantastic view of the sun rising over Lake Iseo. This is our second day on the lake and we set the alarm early so that we could walk into town to catch the 9.31 train to Brescia . Ok I have jumped ahead of myself . I imagine you are wondering what happened after failing to get the tyre in Rovereto. We made the decision to head to Lake Garda where there was another Pneus Market and we hoped it would be bigger and might just have our tyre size in. Finding it was difficult. Spagetti Junction has nothing on the tangenziale in Desenzano. We drove down the road and Sally Sat Nag informed us we were a few minutes away from the depot . We could see it on the map but it seemed to be the other side of the road. She turned us round at the roundabout and now we had ten minutes to travel before we found it. We seemed to be going round in circles getting nowhere fast with time ebbing away. The shop shut at 6 and slowly the hands of my watch were creeping ever closer to that time. Eventually we ditched the sat nav and took navigating into our own hands . Into the trading estate , round the shopping centre , we followed our noses and went around the corner and over the bridge . We went past the deport and had to reverse back arriving a few minutes before Mirko the manager shut up shop. We got to know Mirko well. He shook our hands , he took our order , he tried to find a tyre but none were held locally. He rang Venice and found one. It will arrive Giovedi he said or the next day . I ring you when in. Ok we said . With no other choice but to put ourselves in his hands we drove to Camping Tigne just up the road . Plan to stay there for two days – plan thwarted when we realised it was yet another camping village with all the motorhomes squeezed into a small space. If you love being up close and personal then this is the place for you. We found a spot , went for a meal of a cardboard pizza and veal in a wine sauce and tried to go to bed . Thwarted again by a German family who sang, whistled and shouted for the best part of a couple of hours. We were glad to escape the place the next morning although that proved difficult as we were blocked in by a Bulgarian workmans van . Another disaster averted. So this is how we ended up in the campsite at Lake Iseo waiting for the tyre to come.

So back to the present and we are standing on the platform binari 1 waiting for the train to arrive. When it does it is full to heaving with students in nearly every seat. If not hogging the seat they have bags on them. I heaved a guys bag out of the way and sat down . “Move up mate – old woman coming” Glenn had to stand as no-one would give up their seats for him. Not even the girl and young lad sitting in the seats reserved for the elderly and for the pregnant . I thought that their mothers would be ashamed of them and then thought perhaps they don’t think we are old.

Brescia was busy. The centro was a way out from the station and involved walking down some less than salubrious streets. Eventually we came to the centro district and rounded a corner to the first piazza. The Piazza della Vittoria was designed by Piacentini and opened in 1932. Located in what was once a medieval district of the city it now sported a new look . Fascist urban ideal architecture. Art Deco and Art Noveau styles abounded. The square was the home to the Fascist post office and the first skyscaper built in Italy. Five or six stories high it stood overlooking all else in the square. A square filled with cubist sculptures. We walked through the archway into a different world – the Piazza della Loggia built by Palladio and Sansovina. In a corner was the medieval Il Torrione a clocktower with an exquisite medieval astronomical clock dating from 1546.

Beyond this piazza we walked into Piazza Paulo VI where we saw the Broletto tower, the Duomo Nuovo a Baroque marble edifice and the older round church next door – the Duomo Vecchia . We went in to the church and lit a candle for no other reason that lighting it. The Duomo Nuovo was a bit bland inside and we didn’t stay long, we wanted a coffee and wanted to visit the Duomo Vecchia which housed a collection of frescoes . Thwarted we were though – the police were out in force in their immaculate Gucci designed uniforms . They were joined by the fire service and older men with feathers in their hats. Something was going on – a ceremony or a burial we were not sure which but one thing was certain we were not going in the church.

To while away the time we walked up to the castle , a long hike up steps until we reached the top. Massive walls protect the castle and inside we found an old steam engine donated by some organisation , a museum of arms full of armour and weaponry and a closed museum of the Risorgimento. The museum of arms was interesting and reminded me of the Armoury at Leeds but it became a bit too much of the same. Made worse by the room guide who followed us from room to room standing a few foot away from us. The castle is said to be the one of the largest in Italy built in the 1500’s by the Venetians and extended later by the Visconti family.

On our way down we could have visited the Theatro Grande, the Diocesan Museum but instead made our way to the Archaelogical Park and Museum where we found scattered a few remains of Roman Brescia.

Back to the square and the police were still hanging about chatting with each other and on their phones. The church was still out of bounds so we ate dinner. Chicken cooked in a lemon sauce with small fried potatoes . Another Aperol Spritz – by the now the police had gone but the church sadly was locked up and closed. We never got to see the frescoes . It was a long walk back to the station and a long hot journey on a stuffy old fashioned train. We were glad to be back at our little piece o heaven and spent the night talking to our neighbours again. They bought their van from a friend who lives about 3 miles from us . What a small world .

This was likely to be our last night here and we felt sad as we watched the swimmers braving the cold water. As the sun set we said goodbye to it. Another thought of the day was dug out of the calendar “ Oh mother earth, father wind, friend light , sweetheart water, brother sky – here is my last salutation with folded hands”

What a salutation as the sun went down colouring the lake orange.

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