Day 10 – Friday 25 July

Peschiera del Garda to Iseo

Campsite

Camping Del Sole (http://www.campingdelsole.it/)

Notes

I had been suffering with aches and pains and a bad cough for a couple of days and yesterday I passed a chemist's shop as I went through a small town and stopped for some advice. Armed with my phrase book I asked for something for a bad throat and the dispenser gave me some pills that looked much like the sort of thing you would buy in England: paracetamol etc. I was taking those as explained to me, twice a day. At one point she turned to her colleague in the back of the pharmacy and came back with, “Breakfast and dinner”. “Si”, I said, and we smiled triumphantly at each other.

Today I was still suffering so I took the pills down to breakfast and took one as I ate. Once, on a coach tour, the tour leader advised us to treat breakfast as the main meal of the day, especially as it was usually included in the price of the room. So when I am in a hotel and there is breakfast I tend to stuff myself. Being a truckers' hotel everyone else had the same idea so I didn't stand out as I went back for thirds.

I had to map read my way back to my planned route that was two or three miles to the south. I set off west along the shore of Lake Garda intending to converge with the route in about 10 miles. I switched on the satnav and used that to help me through streets, town after small town with the lake often out of view behind buildings or at one point a high hedge. The day was slightly sunny but the lake looked forbidding and choppy with massive mountains behind.

Somehow I managed to get onto a dual carriageway but as it was definitely heading in the right direction and not too intimidating I stuck with it for four or five miles until I could see exactly where I was. With some triumph I joined up with my intended route and continued through one built up area after another. At Rezzato I pulled up in awe at a villa lying some way back from the road that was now a luxury hotel. I wormed my way through Brescia and onwards towards Iseo, arriving there mid afternoon. The campsite is a huge holiday camp, this time with tent pitches but on gravel rather than grass. The neighbours sympathised with me as I pitched, and a well meaning chap offered me a hammer to bang my tent pegs through the gravel; not a good idea as it bent the pegs. The stone I carry in my tent bag is gentler and more effective, but what can you say when someone is trying to be helpful? I went for a splendid shower and general clean up. The restaurant was doing a roaring trade.