Dianne Boardman visits the famous Italian region famous for literature, lavender and lemons.
WHEN I first visited Italy, I was eighteen years old. I went with a college friend and we stayed on the coast in the Veneto region.
One day, we heard about a fairy-tale lake not far away and immediately booked ourselves on a trip.
Unfortunately, it necessitated a very early start, but being young we weren’t about to let that interfere with our nightlife.
We slept through our alarms and missed our coach, so didn’t get to see the beautiful lake.
Now, decades later, I am finally on my way to see what I’d missed all those years ago.
Lake Garda is the largest and most easterly of the Italian Lakes.
Its fjord-like north cuts into the towering Dolomites, and its softer southern shores has olive groves and vineyards.
Spring is always a good time to visit Italy.
As we make the two-hour drive from Verona airport, citrussy scents blow through the windows.
Arriving in the bright port of Malcesine in the quieter north, sunshine colours gladden my eyes – blues, ochres, pinks and greens.
Rustic pots are jammed with flowers outside the multitude of restaurants.
Even the boats are striped in red and white or yellow and lime.
We meander up twisting, narrow cobbled alleyways.
There is art everywhere – sculptures and carvings on gateways and in boutique windows.
Even the letter-boxes are ornate.
I buy a hand-painted T-shirt from artist Jasmin.
In a shop that has a lavender bicycle outside, I meet Lydia, who explains how the microclimate of Garda enhances the healing properties of the lavender she sells.
The majestic castle dedicates a room to German writer Goethe.
In his 1786 book, ”Italian Journey”, he tells of being arrested as a spy for sketching there.
Lake Garda has been a magnet for writers since Roman times.
A young D.H. Lawrence even hid out here when he ran off with his university professor’s wife.
He described the lake as “so lovely under the sky of sunshine, it was intolerable.”
I know what he means when we take the revolving glass-bubble cable car up Monte Baldo.
The views are just astonishing. The lake is gradations of blues with barely a ripple, and the light is so clear.
Paragliders float above us as we walk one of the white trails scratched over the surface of the mountain.
The snow is still on the very
