I am still looking through the pictures of Verona. I’ve already selected around 70, but resizing them will take a while so I decided to make a separate post for the small town that I visited on my last day – Garda, on the shore of its namesake lake.

It’s a peaceful, quiet village nestled between the mountains, where swans waddle around the shore of the lake and people hide from the rain under the awnings of Summer-themed souvenir shops. The air is pure and has a strong scent of wet earth and cypress trees.

I wasn’t supposed to visit Garda – I had three days in Verona and a 1h30m bus ride wasn’t on my schedule. I had barely enough time to cover the monuments. But on my last day I found myself with a dilemma – do I go visit the Arena, something similar to 20 other Roman theatres and amphiteatres I’ve seen in my lifetime, or do I hop on the first bus to the lake, have half an hour for pictures and hop on the bus back just in time for my train to Rome?

As you would guess, the reckless, sudden, unplanned option won. And this might actually have been the best part of my trip.