sweet sailing

This was part of the backdrop to my past three days. The town in the distance is Riva del Garda. We chartered our boat there and reacquainted ourselves with the joys of sailing.


After some initial stress (a vomiting incident during the car drive there, being taken to the wrong port, the chartering company failing to mention that they required a 500 euro cash deposit, more than the cost of chartering and M having to endure a sail test run with a neurotic sailor who insisted that the best way to handle the boat was to hold the tiller between his legs. I think there may have been something else going on there) we were finally able to settle into our boat. The punks were HYPER excited.

The town was packed with tourists visiting during the May Day holiday. We found a fantastic restaurant a short walk from the marina and an organic grocery store across the street. Finally some organic strawberries!


The lake is the largest in Italy, surrounded by high peaks and speckled with cute little villages. We had originally planned to make stops during the day but were told that most of the towns did not have places for boats our size to dock. This turned out not to be true, but for this trip we did our sight seeing from the water and survived just fine by stocking up on lots of healthy food and eating our lunch while we sailed.


Saturday night we made port at the little town of Bogliaco (where we had to pay the INSANE price of 80 euros for the slip... at least the bathrooms were nice). The picture of lake-side tranquility.


What's cuter than an Italian village? An Italian village with sailboats in the square!

Sunday morning on the lake: skipping stones, soaking sun, and kids setting up their boats for sailing school.

Children playing soccer in their wet suits while they wait for the rest of the sailing class to get ready.

We got to that point where you feel like the land is rocking... our "sea legs." There was lots of sun and wind. Nice (terrifying) gusts of wind due to breaks in the surrounding mountains. The punks and I were riding on the bow for awhile, trying to see if we could get our feet wet when were were slammed by a 50 mph gust of wind. Seriously, it was sudden and I was wishing my pants were made of rubber instead of silky smooth cotton. Fortunately, I had already positioned both kids so that they had something solid to hold on to and I kept myself on the boat by clinging to the lifelines. Seeing that M was in serious need of help reefing the sails, I opened the forward hatch and helped (shoved) the kids into the cabin. Things were quickly normalized but I had to talk Punkone back into the cockpit. Once he was out, sitting in the cockpit, deadpan faced, he said "Getting my pants scared off... check." Funniest moment of the trip.