Bum In The Butter

April 2025

My journeying for this blog...

These maps may look familiar to you, they were in the last blog as well, also from northern Italy, in Piemonte Province.

Lago d'Orta

Yeah, there's no doubt about it. I've definitely landed with my bum in the butter again.

That of course means I've found myself in an amazing situation through nothing other than being blessed with both exceedingly good fortune and having incredible friends.

April's cousin Renata used that saying the other day in reference to one of her daughters, and I just had to have it.

I'm staying in Tarek and Claire's amazing place on Lago d'Orta, near the little village of Pella, exploring the beautiful forest and tiny villages in the area, playing guitar, catching up on writing, getting into the garden, and giving the place a spring clean.

It is spring after all. Just.

It's also been so great to keep my legs active, and I've been hiking around the lake and the hills on beautiful paths through stunning scenery.

Yeah, it's really hard, but someone's gotta do it.

Top Right: This spaceage building is one of the more ostentatious of the many mansions around these parts. It's huge.

Orta San Giulio

One day I walked right around the lake to the beautiful and historic tiny town of Orta San Giulio, the place where St Giulio (Julius) first settled way back in the 4th Century.

He was keen to set up a monastery on the island in the lake, but local boatmen refused to take him there, because they believed it was infested with snakes and dragons. (Maybe the boatmen were from northern Queensland).

So, according to local mythology, San Giulio draped his cloak onto the top of the lake and just walked there instead, on top of it.

Wow! He must've been a plus plus size. Unless he just kept moving it along as he walked. But then again how could he do that, because his feet would always be on it? Ahhh, that's right, he was under the influence of God.

And yeah, God works in unbelievable, I mean mysterious, ways.

In fact the lake here used to be named after San Giulio himself, but eventually it took on the name of the village, Orta (which means garden). The village then incorporated his name too.

It was a stunning walk, the first half of which roughly followed the lake's edge, and then climbed steeply above it until just before Orta San Giulio.

Top Right: They should have this sign up at nightclubs.

Above Centre: There's some huge mansions and villas around.

Above Right: This amazing tower is called the Torre di Buccione, built way back in the 12th Century, as part of a larger castle complex. It was used primarily for signalling, by flags and bells, and as a guardpost.

The southern end of the lake is a beautiful nature reserve, with gorgeous forest and paths and lovely spots on the lakeside.

Eventually I walked into the tiny village of Buccione, climbed above the lake and then headed north, on the eastern side of the lake, finally walking in to Orta San Giulio.

Above Centre, Right, and Below: The incredible Villa Crespi, built in 1879 by a wealthy textile industrialist, Cristoforo Crespi, for his wife Pia. It used to be called Villa Pia. These days it's a ritzy hotel.

I walked through the Istorico Centro of the town, along a beautiful path that eventually hit the lake again.

Above Left: So many wheelchair scrapes on the walls. They just go through way too fast, someone needs to do something about it.

Below Left: The main piazza, right on the waterfront.

It'd taken me at least 3 hours to walk around the lake, and I decided to take a ferry back. The ferry was so cute, and, just before it was due to leave, a million teenagers boarded, on a school trip. Teenagers in packs are loud, but you already knew that.

Below Left: The isola, which isn't that isolated.

Above Right: The ferry pulling away, after dropping me at San Filiberto, just a hop, skip and a speed hump from my place.

Holgi and Anja

These two beautiful people, whom I worked for at the Christmas markets in Germany over the winter, and who have become friends, had planned a trip to visit April and I at her grandmother's house.

But when April had to unexpectedly leave Italy, they decided to come down anyway, and stay with me at the lake.

It was so great to see them. They arrived late at night, we ate pasta, and the next morning went strolling. The weather was turning, in a grey kinda way.

Exploring old parts of Pella.

Above Right: Me trying to be 1. hip, 2. cool and 3. retro by 1. looking hippy-ish, 2. wearing my puffer jacket and 3. being old but still working fine.

Below Left: The architect was definitely a-spire-ing to greatness with this masterpiece.

Later in the day we drove along the west side of the lake to Omegna (Pronounced Omenya - gn is pronounced ny in Italian, like gnocchi).

Omegna, on the northern tip of the lake, is the largest town on it, but it's not that large. We drove up there along the western side of the lake, had a wander around, then had lunch and went food shopping.

The old market building had some pics up.

Above Centre: San Carlo of the Cross (Eye)

Above Right, Below Left: This art installation was called the Collona d'Amore (column of love), by Rafael Ariante. I always thought that term referred to something else.

Above Centre: The blossoms are so rich and big, and looking magnificent at the moment.

Above Left: Zucchini flowers. They're served in Italy as an entree. You stuff them with a mix of parmesan, ricotta and spices and then fry them in olive oil. Sounds good huh.

Late at night we went for a walk to Lagna, and then further along the waterfront. It's one of my fave walks around here.

Above Right: Italian standoff. Actually the cat wasn't at all interested in eating froggy, despite the fact that we're all relatively close to the French border.

It was fun to hang with Holgi and Anja. We spent a lot of time solving the problems of the world, with really pacific solutions like high taxes for the rich and the mandatory psychological testing of world leaders, the failure of which would lead to public humiliation and assassination.

But Holgi and Anja's stay was way too short, and before I could say "Wann fahrt ihr beide weider nach Deutschland? (When're you two goin' back to Germany?), they were gone.

Get Ya Moda Runnin'

Then it was time for me to visit one of the three great fashion capitals of the world, and it wasn't Paris or New York.

No, it's Milan, and it's regarded as the chic-est city in an already pretty chic country.

I was going there to buy up expensive luxury fashion items and to strut around feeling good about myself.

No, I went to Milan to visit friends, of course.

And yeah, to see its amazingness.

So off I hiked, with a little overnight bag, on the nearly two hour walk to the railway station. I mean, I could've taken a ferry across the lake and caught the train there, which would've been quicker and easier, but I liked the idea of hiking to the town of Gozzano, high in the hills south of the lake.

The weather had changed. It'd been raining for a couple of days, and the forecast was that it would get wetter before it would get better. For once the forecast proved to be correct.

The lake and forest look amazing in the rain, but my shoes not quite so good.

Below: Gozzano in the wet.

There were loads of people of African or Middle Eastern descent on the train to Novara, many of them speaking Arabic. Almost all of them were men. I'm not sure, but I guess many of them are either refugees, or the kids of refugees.

Below: Milano Centosa station.

I got out and decided to walk for nearly an hour, to my hostel, in the district of Ticinese.

Milan is a grand and beautiful city. It hosts some of the most beautiful buildings in the country.

Most of the central part of the city however, away from the grand piazzas and boulevardes, is quite tight, with narrower streets, and shops shops shops.

It rained the whole time, and I frequently experienced what I came to dub as the "Milan shuffle," which is the constant sidesteps that everyone takes trying to negotiate their way along narrow sidewalks whilst all holding umbrellas. There's just not enough room for all the people and all their umbrellas to get through.

So there's sidestepping, and there's the weaving of umbrella trajectories up or sideways or even quickly half-closed, while you try to avoid brollisions.

It was sorta funny, except that everyone's pretty much in a hurry, and maybe didn't find it as amusing as I did. Some people returned my giggles though, with surprised and late half-smiles.

Milan's criss-crossed by a network of trams, buses, and a really impressive metro network, so it's easy to get around, except for the fact that the metro shuts down between 12.30am and 4am, which is annoying if you're a night owl like me.

Above: Fashion monkeys in the moda district

Above Centre, Below: The Teatro alla Scala, an amazing theatre that looks relatively unimpressive on the outside, but is the bomb inside, as this webpic shows:

Below: The incredible Gallerie di Vittorio Emmanuelle II, named after the first King of Italy, who in the mid 1800s, united a number of separate Italian states, through either force, coercion, bribes, or all of them together, and created an independent and united Italy for the first time since the 6th Century.

There's monuments, statues and galleries dedicated to the dude all over the country.

This gallerie is a particularly beautiful one, and reminds me of the one in Napoli. But this is bigger.

Below Left: The great fashion scam. This Prada bag was selling for only €8000, what a steal!

By Prada that is.

As you walk through the gallerie you come out into Piazza Duomo, the huge square facing one of the greatest works of architecture in the whole of Italy, the Duomo di Milano.

It's an incredible sight, the whole building is basically a massive carved marble sculpture, with the most intricate and grand statues, pillars, doors, naves, transepts, apses, narthexes ........ and other things whose names you can also find on the internet.

I returned the next day to explore the inside of that particular masterpiece, as you need to buy tickets, and today's quota had already sold out.

Below: Wandering around in the rain near my hostel. I finally made it there, and slipped into something less uncomfortable (out of my wet clothes), and then strolled out for food, and to meet my friends Martina and Sofia, who were doing a gig with a Latin jazz band, and another great friend, Eva.

I'd met all three in Palermo a couple of months back, and was really happy to meet up again.

It was another hoot of a night.

Above Left: Free the dogs. Except around cyclists.

Strolling to the Loreto district

Martina and Sofia's gig was amazing. In Palermo I'd seen them play as a duo, and I jammed with them on stage later on, but tonight they had the most incredible musicians with them - a fabulous drummer, killer bass player, and the best pianist I'd seen in a long time.

Martina played flute and percussion, and occasionally sang harmonies. She also plays piano accordion, flugelhorn, and a huge array of drums and percussive instruments.

Their set was mainly in Portuguese, even though they're both Italian. It was their last gig together before Sofia heads off to Brazil for awhile, to further her singing career.

After the set I chatted with Eva for ages, we'd had an amazing connection in Palermo, and it was just the same this time. I love it when it's like that.

The band and Eva and I all went out for dinner at a Chinese place, it was a classic Chinese restaurant decor-wise, but the food was so un-Chinese. I asked for picante (spicy) with my tofu dish, but there was absolutely no spice in it whatsoever, besides a few mild dried chillies.

I was pretty surprised actually.

The funny thing was that they were serving the dishes not with rice, but with spaghetti, and not even the Chinese noodles type of spaghetti, but a thin and pretty tasteless sort of watered-down version.

It wasn't the best food, in my opinion. Unfortunately I've become totally spoilt, by spending lots of time in China, and eating many many authentic delicious feasts.

But the conversation was great, and it was so good to catch up with those guys.

It was after 1 (and after metro closing time), so I walked the long way back to my hostel, in the drizzle. The rain just hasn't let up lately. There were night buses getting around actually, but their routes didn't appear on any of my navigation apps. And anyway it was nice to walk through the empty city, and enjoy all those light reflections on the wet ground.

The next morning I headed off in the rain to visit the duomo, one of the special things I'd come to Milano to see.

Above Right: More brolissimo.

There was a massive lineup, as the duomo is the biggest attraction in this city - so popular in fact that they sell tickets for it - 10€ per person - which is weird for a place of worship. But at least it's not 50€, the equivalent of which they charge to visit the Hagia Sophia mosque in Istanbul.

The Catholic Church must rake up a fortune with the number of visitors here, to add to their already billions in fortune. Don't forget that the Catholic Church is one of the richest institutions in the world, with all those assets, particularly real estate. It's hundreds of billions of dollars rich.

The Duomo di Milano took nearly six centuries to build. The cathedral construction began in 1386, and was finally completed in 1965.

As you can imagine, there's always renos and maintenance to do.

It's the 3rd largest cathedral in the world, after St Peter's Basilica in Rome, and the Cathedral Basilica of Our Lady Aparaceda in the state of São Paolo, Brazil.

The building is absolutely magnificent, and it's one of Europe's truly great cathedrals. I was so gobsmacked by the vastness and beauty around every corner that I found myself constantly mumbling "fuck!" under my breath, which is quite difficult when your breath is constantly being taken away. People probably heard me, but luckily I was speaking English.

Above: The place has been constantly pilloried.

I was in there for awhile, and eventually went outside to catch my breath.

Then I wandered to the northwest, through amazing piazzas and wide roads.

Below Centre: I love the circular squares in Italy.

Below: Eventually I got to the amazing Castello Sforzesco, a massive medieval fortification that was built in the 15th Century, and then enlarged during the following two centuries. It eventually became one of the largest citadels in Europe.

Above Right: The huge Parco Sempione, inside the fortress walls, was beautiful in the rain, and there was hardly anyone else there.

Below Left, Centre: This huge arch looks remarkably like the Arc de Triomphe in Paris, which is no surprise whatsoever, as much of it was built in the early 1800s, during Napoleonic rule of northern Italy.

When the Napoleonic Kingdom of Italy fell to the Austrian empire however, they just abandoned the building project, and it wasn't until 1826 that the Austrians decided to work on it again, as a dedication to their Emperor Francis II.

In 1859 King Victor Immanuel II famously passed through the arch with the French Emperor Napoleon III, after their combined forces finally defeated those pesky Austrians, and took control of northern Italy once again.

It's pretty impressive actually, but it's not that huge. It must've taken ages for all their armies to get through with all their horses and carriages and foot soldiers during their victory procession. Luckily the crowds didn't have phones in those days, so probably didn't get too bored by that sort of thing.

Below: Somehow I ended up in Chinatown (yep, there's Chinatowns everywhere, even in Italy, and especially in China), and I actually found myself a decent Chinese spicy meal, but, believe it or not it was gnocchi!

Below Right: Who needs portable motorcycle gloves when you've got these?

Above Left: Big coffee and little cornetto.

Above Right: Purple rain

I'd decided not to stay in Milano for another night, as I'm keen to get back to my bike, so I can meet up with friends and family in the coming few months. I also wanted to spend a little more time at the lake to do some more things for Tarek.

I strolled into the more rundown and poorer parts of the city, walking all the way back to Milano Centosa station, for my train back to Gozzano, via Novara.

I had a window seat.

Below Centre: Back in Gozzano.

Below Right: Yay, a supermarket! I shopped up, as they're a rarity on the lake.

And suddenly I was back in the forest. It felt so good, after my short city blitz.

It was nearly dark by the time I made it home, and I was starving. I gutsed on grissini, olives and smoked cheese, and was full by the time my dinner was ready to eat.

The End Is Nigh

I actually I feel a little torn.

I really need to get back to my bike and ride north, as I have people to meet.

But I wanna stay here too. And stay longer in Milano.

It's so hard having so many excellent choices. It's like the opposite of an election, or the feeling you get in a village shop in Tajikistan.

But first things first.

When I passed through last time I said I wanted to revisit Torino, and, as it turns out, Martina's other band has a gig there. So, it's the perfect opportunity for me to kill two porcupines with one car wheel. The gig's sold out, but Martina gave me an accredito, a freebie.

It's time to do more of what I really love.

Check out an amazing city

And check out its kulcha❤️

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