On Thursday morning we packed up and cleared out of our Airbnb and headed to San Benedetto, the next town to the west along the lake shore, for the Thursday morning market. It was tiny compared to the market we had visited the previous day in Lazise but still a major improvement as all the stands were selling food and produce to locals. Soon after we arrived we had enough fresh fruit, bread, and roast beef to fill everyone's stomach. We had to sit on the curb to eat but it was all part of the experience.
When I first looked at the map of Lake Garda during the planning stages of the trip my eye was immediately drawn to Sirmione. The slender finger of land extending north towards the center of the lake appeared man-made, but it is actually a natural deposit of limestone and clay formed by a receding Alpine glacier. During the Roman era the peninsula was a popular location for lakeside villas for wealthy Veronese and at its tip are the Grottoes of Catullus, an archaeologically significant ruin of a Roman villa. In the thirteenth century Sirmione was notable for being a stronghold of the powerful Scaligeri dynasty that ruled Verona for a hundred and twenty-five years. We drove through the rather bland modern town at the base of the peninsula before taking the busy two lane Via XXV Aprile up the isthmus to a parking lot just south of the pedestrian old town. We walked the rest of the way along the lungolago, admiring the reflections of sunlight off the lake's teal surface.
The entrance to the old town was guarded by the Castello Scaligero, the most well-preserved of the many fortresses that the Scaligeri built in the area during their period of dominance. The merlons of the battlements displayed the classic swallowtail formation of the Ghibellines, the medieval faction to which the Scaligeri belonged. The moat transected the peninsula and was spanned by the Ponte Levatoio, a short fixed bridge that is still named for the drawbridge it replaced. The fortress is a popular attraction in the town but there was a prodigious line for entrance and we had plenty of castellos under our belt already on this journey. 
The moat extended around the far side of the castle and we followed along it past a row of restaurants to the eastern shore of the peninsula. There was a rocky beach here which had an empty stage placed in its center, probably in preparation for some evening concert. There was a scattering of boats on the lake and beyond that the hills that we had driven through to reach the sanctuary the previous day. Just inland from the beach there was a park with olive trees and weathered marble statues. 
The old town had surprisingly petered out completely after just a few minutes of walking. I consulted the map and saw that the rest of the peninsula was occupied by gardens and private villas, many of which had been converted into boutique hotels. We could have walked to the Roman ruins at the far end but I knew the kids wouldn't find them very exciting and we still had several stops to make. We doubled back to the more interesting area close to the fortress and explored a couple of the side streets that extended to the western side of the peninsula. The most open square in the town is Piazza Carducci, close to the ferry dock. The square is named for beloved Italian poet Giosuè Carducci and is surrounded by open air cafes.
The center was compact, beautiful, and very touristy. It seemed like every building was a restaurant or a store that catered to visitors. People were lining up to get their photos taken with the largest explosions of bougainvillea. In the hour that we had been in Sirmione it had become substantially more crowded as well and there was a surprising number of cars trying to push their way through the flocks of pedestrians. I imagine most of them were ferrying guests to the hotels at the far end of the peninsula because the town itself wasn't large enough to require a car to get from one place to another. We could see the faces of the frustrated drivers as an unmoving line formed along the one road that led out of the center. We might have stayed longer in Sirmione on another day but it was clear that the atmosphere was heading downhill and we made a beeline back to our car. 
Our final destination for the day was Parma, but I didn't want to get there too early because we had two nights there and not a tremendous amount to do in the city. Our next stop was the tiny village of Borghetto sul Mincio, often listed among Italy's most beautiful villages. Borghetto is a general term of medieval origin for a small village so there are many borghettos throughout Italy, with this one being distinguished by its location on the Mincio River that originated at Lake Garda. The focal point of the village is the cluster of water mills in the middle of the river, which have now been converted into restaurants and guesthouses. Access to the center was via a wooden footbridge, from which we could see part of the fourteenth century Visconti bridge. This famous landmark of the town was constructed by the Milanese after their conquest of Verona and was then blown apart four centuries later by Napoleon's army. The span was replaced in the early twentieth century and is once again a busy river crossing. 
Another footbridge connected the village to the mills which were clearly the place to be for lunch. Outdoor tables filled the flagstone piazza that had been built between the water mills, with awnings and umbrellas to protect diners from the elements. The most popular dish in the restaurants was tortellini pasta, which holds special significance in Borghetto due to a local legend of star-crossed lovers. The village hosts an annual tortellini festival in which over half a million pieces of the knotted pasta are served, although it had been canceled the year we visited due to some logistical difficulties.
The village is overlooked by another Castello Scaligero high on a hill, although this one is partially ruined. We walked to the outskirts of the village and made the ten minute uphill hike to the fortress, where we found just a couple of other visitors exploring the grounds. We immediately recognized the classical medieval structure of the Scaligero battlements. The tower was in good condition and could be ascended, but the door was locked and a sign advised that it was only open to visitors on the weekends.
From the top of the hill we could see the town over the treetops. In the distance we could make out the two ruined towers of the Visconti bridge. A truck was passing through the closer tower, providing an odd juxtaposition of the ancient and the contemporary. I wondered what the bridge's original builders would have thought about the vehicles that were currently using it and all the strange visitors from around the world who were eating at their water mills. Then again, what would we think about the people who will be visiting the ruins of our present day landmarks in five hundred years?
There were two major cities between Borghetto sul Mincio and Parma that we could have stopped at. The more direct route would have been through Mantua but I chose Cremona because I was familiar with the city from one of my favorite books, Umberto Eco's Baudolino. Cremona is also famous as Italy's center of violin making, especially for the creations of Antonio Stradivari. Mantua looked interesting as well but it didn't possess any unmissably distinctive sights and we only had time for one.
I was nervous about accidentally driving into Cremona's ZTL so I grabbed a parking spot on the street as soon as we got close to the center. Unlike most of the Italian cities we had visited so far there was plenty of street parking available. We weren't expecting crowds during the midday lull but the streets of the center were weirdly empty and quiet. We bought some plump apricots in a grocery store and meandered into Piazza della Pace, at the southeast corner of the Palazzo del Comune. Cremona's immense city government building was built at the beginning of the thirteenth century and still hosts the municipal council. 
We walked through the rather barren ground floor of the Palazzo del Comune and emerged via the loggia into Piazza del Comune Cremona. This piazza was home to Cremona's Duomo, Cattedrale di Santa Maria Assunta, and its baptistery. Even at this medieval epicenter there was hardly anyone in sight except for a smattering of customers at an outdoor cafe next to the loggia of the Palazzo del Comune. Cremona seemed to be completely off the tourist radar and even the locals kept a lower profile than at any other mid-sized city we had visited thus far. I didn't really mind having all these majestic, classical buildings to ourselves but it felt very strange to see such a historic piazza so empty. 
The Duomo contains a mixture of Romanesque, Gothic, Renaissance, and Baroque elements due to multiple restorations and expansions over the centuries. The impressive bell tower of the cathedral, known as the Torrazzo, is the third tallest brick tower in the world. The world's largest astronomical clock is displayed on the exterior of the fourth level, with one hand that takes more than eighteen years to complete a revolution. Cremona is the birthplace of torrone, the Italian version of nougat, which was named for its shape which was similar to the Torrazzo. Usually we don't even enter the churches but due to the paucity of things to see in the historic center we explored the interior for a few minutes. The nave of the cathedral is well known for the sixteenth century Renaissance frescoes depicting scenes from the Old and New Testament. 
We had hoped to find a warren of medieval streets around the cathedral, somewhat like Genoa, but what we encountered was rather bland. The streets were fairly wide and the buildings looked to date from the nineteenth or even twentieth centuries. It looked almost like the center had been reconstructed after a war, like the Marina quarter of Cagliari, but this wasn't the case. It seemed that the city had just evolved with the times rather than persisting with their ancient dwellings. Perhaps there had just been more funds available for replacing older buildings and upgrading the streets. We wandered around for a bit trying to find the narrowest alley we could and eventually discovered one that led us back to the Duomo, neatly framing the two slender rear towers in an archway. The city still seemed to be in a prodigious lethargy so we returned to the car and commenced the final leg of our day's journey to Parma.
This featured blog entry was written by zzlangerhans from the blog Fledgling Explorers.
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