It was an atmospheric day when I went about on the numerous ferries that plied between a trifecta of villages in Lago Como, a jewel of a lake set amidst the foothills of the Italian Alps. Being part of the trans-alpine route, the shorelines have been dotted with human civilization for generations. Villages with cobblestone streets and red-tile roofed slopes surrounding ancient chapels have now transpired to quaint tourist towns replete with restaurants faring local cuisines and souvenirs selling the ubiquitous magnets of this region, promising imagery quite unlike what I was witnessing.
The pristine blues that is the highlight of this lake was now a murky grey: brooding grey waters under a dull grey sky. The beauty of this lake, while dulled, was still spectacular. For from behind these quaint villages rose steep cliffs rising up to the grey clouds. Fog drifted in and about, smothering the chalky white limestone cliffs. A lonely chapel appeared in a clearing, clinging to the cliffs, an odd sight amidst the rugged and dramatic terrain. I watched this as the ferry slowly drifted away, the scene slowly fading to nothingness as the fog moved in once again.
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Lombardy Italy