From the Dolomites to Lake Garda, With a Detour or Two
I’ll be honest… I hadn’t showered in two days.
That’s what happens when you’re chasing light, waking up early, walking uphill for “the shot,” and telling yourself you’ll deal with the basics later. But standing there that morning, packed up, clean again, taking one last look out over the valley, I already knew…
I was going to miss this place.
The Dolomites have a way of doing that. They don’t announce themselves loudly. They just sit there, jagged and immovable, while you quietly adjust your plans around them.
Driving Without a Net
The plan was to head south toward Lake Garda… but not directly.
I don’t have a great international phone plan, so before leaving Wi-Fi, I downloaded my maps and hoped for the best. No live GPS. No rerouting. Just a general sense of direction and a willingness to improvise.
Honestly… that’s where Europe shines.
A stick-shift VW.
Hairpin turns.
Mountain roads that demand your attention.
I wasn’t in a hurry. People passed me. A delivery truck flew by. Somewhere near the vineyards around Trento, police were pulling people over… which made me wonder how much “tasting” had been happening earlier in the day.
Driving in Italy is part transportation, part amusement ride. And I loved every minute of it.
A Lake I Didn’t Plan to Love
On the way south, I detoured toward a lake I couldn’t pronounce properly… Molveno.
It wasn’t on my original plan. It just showed up on the map, slightly out of the way, and felt worth the risk.
Turns out… it was.
A beautiful alpine lake.
A town bigger than expected, but not overwhelmed.
Tour buses arriving just as I was finishing lunch… perfect timing.
It felt like one of those places that quietly earns a return visit. Summer hikes. Winter snow. Rowboats. Long lunches.
I left thinking, I’ll be back.
Arrival at the Water
Lake Garda was the goal.
I didn’t know much about it going in… just that it was large, dramatic, and worth seeing. Parking outside the old town was an easy decision. Driving narrow streets in an unfamiliar city with luggage didn’t sound like the right kind of adventure.
The hotel?
A complete surprise.
A deal I still don’t fully understand. A balcony. A view that immediately justified the drive.
Lake in front of me.
A piazza below.
Restaurants buzzing.
Light changing by the minute.
Within seconds, a time-lapse was already running.
Knowing When to Stop
By the time I reached the rooftop terrace later that evening, I knew it was time to call it.
Dinner first.
Photography later.
No rushing.
This trip had already delivered what it needed to… mountains, movement, effort, surprise. Lake Garda was the reward… not something to conquer, just something to experience.
Tomorrow would sort itself out.
For now, I was exactly where I needed to be.
As always… more on all of this later.