Bella Italia (2 page)

“Our campsite is somewhere close to this little village.”

As they approached a roundabout, Niels pointed to a sign on the side of the road that listed a set of names. “There!” he called out enthusiastically. “Regina di Garda.”

Hans took the turn and slowed the car down at the campground’s entrance and turned on to the paved driveway a few moments later. A few hundred yards farther he stopped next to a young man, dressed in shorts and a white T-shirt that read S
TAFF
R
EGINA DI
G
ARDA
in large black letters. Petra had barely opened her window when he began to explain to her, in English with a heavy Italian accent and in a friendly manner, where to park the car and check in.

After a short walk from the parking lot they entered the main office, which was bigger than it appeared to be from the outside. There were twelve consecutive counters. Ten women and two men, all wearing the same outfit the young man outside had worn, were all helping the vacationers to find their way to their new homes for the next few weeks. There were well over thirty people in line; Hans counted. He could hear English, German, Italian, and Dutch being spoken around him.

“Are the Rolling Stones playing in Verona and is this where we get the pre-sale tickets?” He mumbled sarcastically. “We should have brought our sleeping bags.”

Niels stared at him with his big blue eyes, clueless as to what any of that meant.

“Ah, never mind,” Hans responded. Even though the crowds and the size of the campground seemed a bit overwhelming, he also thought it was a good sign that the place was apparently so popular. The desk clerks did their jobs well. They remained friendly and worked fast. Within a half an hour, they were helped by a young lady around twenty years old, whose name was Jennifer, according to the badge on her shirt. She spoke German, Italian, and English. Petra handed her their voucher, and a few moments later they were officially checked in.

“Your mobile home is located at Bardolino number 27. You can park your car there yourself.” She tapped on the map in front of her with her nails.

Along with the key, she gave them three blue wristbands and wished them a happy holiday.

When they got back in the car Hans said, “Without a map you would get completely lost here.” He handed the map to Petra and pointed to the location of their mobile home. They left the parking lot and drove into the park.

“This is the Corso Copenhagen,” Petra said, looking back and forth from the map to their surroundings. “This part only has tents.” She nodded. “Keep going straight until we reach the intersection with Viale Bruxelles. Then take a right and then the third street on the left will be Bardolino. … It really does look like a city, but very well organized and perfect, like they planned every inch of this place with a ruler, and every road big or small has a name.”

Hans took a right turn at the intersection. “If anyone ever tries to tell me again that Italians are chaotic, I’m going to personally slap them on the head with this map.”

Petra grinned. She liked his enthusiasm. Despite all of his good intentions at the beginning, she still had her doubts about how he would react once they actually got to the campground. Thankfully, the pictures they saw online turned out to be an accurate depiction of how things were in reality. There was no way to compare this campground to the kind of campgrounds she and Hans had visited when they were kids. But she hoped she hadn’t cheered too soon.

“Bardolino,” Hans read from the street sign. “This is it. Let’s find number 27.” He continued slowly and stopped at the third mobile home on his left. They got out of the car and Petra opened the door to their new vacation home. After a quick inspection of the living room, toilet, and shower, Hans put his hand on Niels’s shoulder and looked very satisfied.

“This looks perfectly fine, doesn’t it? This gives us a little more room and luxury than a tent, and it’s a bit cozier than a bungalow or hotel room.”

Petra wasn’t sure if he meant what he said, but she was pleasantly surprised herself.

Hans and Niels walked to the car and took out the two suitcases.

“Where would you like us to put these, dear?”

Petra nodded her head toward the bedroom entrance.

“Just put them on the bed. I’ll unpack them at my leisure.”

Niels looked at her with pleading eyes.

“Can I go get my swimsuit, Mom? I’m so hot, and I’m dying to go for a swim in the pool.”

She ran her fingers through his blond hair. “You need to ask your dad, because he needs to go with you, and I am not sure he is in the mood to go right now.”

Hans nodded jovially. “I think that’s fine … but shouldn’t I help you to unpack those suitcases first?”

Petra shook her head and unzipped both suitcases. A minute later she triumphantly held up two swimsuits.

“Put them on and get out of here,” she said a bit sternly.

“Yes!” Niels didn’t waste any time and put his swimsuit on immediately.

They sat in the shade under the mobile home’s awning. It was just after nine a.m., and the clear skies signaled the promise of a beautiful, warm day ahead. After they had dinner at a restaurant the night before, they managed to get to the grocery store just before closing to buy the general necessities. Exhausted from the long trip, they went to bed at ten thirty. Well rested and in a great mood, they were now having their first breakfast at the Regina di Garda campground.

“Ah, the good life in Italy,” Hans said, gazing down the path. “Are we up exceptionally early, or does everyone else eat their breakfast inside?”

Petra shrugged her shoulders. Her attention was focused on Niels, who was putting jelly on a cracker. He used so much of it that the jelly was oozing from the sides and was about to drip on the ground.

“Niels, watch what you’re doing. I don’t want ants.”

Niels licked the excess jelly off his cracker and took a bite. Hans was still taking in their surroundings. He counted a total of twelve mobile homes in their “street,” but he only saw two people having breakfast out on their terrace. Just then the door to the mobile home across from them opened. A boy, about the same age as Niels walked out. He had spiky red hair and a pointy face. He was dressed in a swimsuit and wore a small backpack. With one swift hand movement he unlocked the bicycle lock from the bike that was parked next to the mobile home. He jumped on and rode in their direction. When he passed by he looked at them from the corner of his eye, curious but shy.

“Good morning,” Petra greeted him.

“Hello,” the boy answered hastily and rode off quickly.

After breakfast, they all went to the pool together. Just before they arrived, they passed a bike rack filled with dozens of bikes.

“Rental bikes,” Petra said.

“I want one too,” Niels said.

“We’ll check it out later.”

They walked up a concrete stairway with five steps and found a great view of an Olympic-size swimming pool, where they saw mostly adults swimming.

“They have two pools here!” Niels said enthusiastically. “This is the lap pool, where you need goggles and a swim cap.” Niels pointed slightly to the left. “And over there is the big pool. That’s where we can play.”

After a short stroll past the outside bar and the automatic showers, they reached the other pool, which was in the shape of a heart. Even though it was easily four times bigger than the lap pool, it was jam-packed with people.

Petra looked across the terrace at the area with the reclining lawn chairs. As far as she could tell, all of them were taken.

“I’m going back to that other pool. There were still some chairs available there.”

“Last one in the water is a loser!” Niels grinned and jumped in the water.

Petra handed the ball to Hans. “Okay, loser. See you later.”

He gave her a big wink and jumped in after Niels. They tossed the ball back and forth, and, a little bit later, Hans noticed the redheaded boy in the crowd, the one they had seen on his bike earlier that morning.

“Hey buddy!” He tossed the ball up high to the little guy, who caught it perfectly.

“I’m playing with my friends,” the boy called out after he passed the ball to Niels.

“Well, then why don’t you ask them to join in?!”

The boy turned to his two friends and said something. A few moments later they came closer so they could all pass the ball to one another. Suddenly a loud buzzing sound rang out. As the sound began to die out, many of the guests, including the Dutch boy and his two friends, all rushed to the edge of the pool and got out of the pool.

“What’s going on?” Hans wanted to know.

“Swim competitions in the other pool,” the boy answered as he looked for his backpack. Because Niels looked a little lost, Hans decided to take him and follow the masses.

“This is Thijs,” Hans said to Petra. “He is from Leerdam.”

During their walk to the other pool, Hans and the boy had a short conversation. Hans’s first impression was that Thijs seemed like a nice kid. Thijs nodded politely at Petra, who had sat upright in her lounge chair.

“Hi, Thijs, are you having a good time?”

“Yes, I always have a good time here,” Thijs answered. Shyly, he looked just past her.

“So you’ve been here before?”

“A zillion times. We come here every summer.”

“What about your friends?” Hans wanted to know. “Have all been here before, too, or is it their first time, like it is for us?”

Thijs nodded to the blond boy with freckles next to him. “Conor has been here before. I don’t know how many times, but quite a lot. He is from Ireland.”

Conor looked up when he heard his name. He probably didn’t understand a word of Dutch and smiled politely.

“And Mats is from Germany. He was here last year, too.”

The German boy had dark blond hair and was a few pounds overweight. He grinned politely, just as Conor had, and stared sheepishly straight ahead.

Thijs took a swim cap and goggles from his bag. The others quickly followed his example.

“Come on, Niels,” Hans said enthusiastically. “Get your gear and show them how fast you can swim.”

Niels shook his head. “No, I don’t feel like it.”

“Oh, don’t be silly, man.”

“No, I want to watch first.”

Before Hans could continue, Petra intervened.

“Leave him alone. He just wants to watch first. Please don’t start with all of that competitive stuff already, please.”

“Okay, so let’s go and check out the competition.” Hans nodded in the direction of a boy who was overweight. “I’m putting my money on him.”

Niels had to laugh and Petra just shook her head.

“That’s not funny; it’s sad. That poor kid must be having a tough time in this heavy heat.”

“Don’t you mean he sure is heavy in this heat?” Hans joked.

Later that morning they saw Thijs win the match in his age category effortlessly. Conor and Mats finished behind him, and the heavyset boy came in last.

Hans let out a content sigh. “This lasagna is fantastic. I’ve never tasted anything like it in Holland.”

“Yes, my cannelloni is delicious as well. They sure know how to cook here, but I think the whole atmosphere has a lot to do with it too,” Petra replied.

Hans nodded in agreement. “True, it’s all nearly perfect here.”

After dinner they walked back to their rental bikes, which they had put against a fence.

“Your pizza was good too, right?”

“Oh, yeah, sure.” Niels was not exactly a fan of Italian cuisine. A pizza once in a while was okay, but that was the end of it.

They got on their bikes and rode along the lake back to the campground. It was already half-past nine and after an afternoon filled with so many new experiences, it was time for a shower and evening of recuperation.

“Look,” Hans called out over his shoulder. “They are pulling the pedal boats back on the shore. That means you can rent one of those things up until about seven thirty.”

“When are we going to do that?” Niels asked. They rode their bikes one behind the other. The path along the lake was wide enough to ride side by side, but the large groups of pedestrians and other bicyclists prevented that.

“Maybe the day after tomorrow,” Petra said. “All in good time. You also want to go to the water park right? We still want to see Venice, and we also have a trip to Sirmione scheduled.”

“That’s that famous island that can’t be reached by car, right?” Hans asked.

“Yes, it’s a peninsula that stretches two miles into the lake. You can only reach the elongated little village by crossing the castle’s drawbridge. Next to the castle is a beautiful church, which is open all day. I’ve seen pictures of Sirmione, and it looks like it would be quite an amazing experience.”

“Gotta love the internet!” Hans grinned.

Niels let out a disapproving groan. He wasn’t really into a trip to Venice—it seemed incredibly boring to him. Churches and castles weren’t really his thing either; he thought they were stuffy, ancient attractions for old people. But he was quickly distracted when he saw the water park diagonally in front of him. He pointed to one of the towers, which peeked out high above the hilly landside.

“Look at how high that slide is!”

While Niels summed up all the things he could distinguish from a distance, Hans enjoyed his son’s enthusiasm. Petra smiled and turned to him. This vacation was already off to a great start.

Just past nine they began to approach the campground’s rear entrance. They had to slow down for a group of young people about to enter a restaurant located at Lake Garda’s shore. It was actually a glorified fast-food restaurant with a large terrace. It was the same restaurant where they had their lunch earlier that day.

“Anyone want a hot dog?” Hans said, laughing. Unlike that afternoon, this time Niels kept his mouth shut—he was stuffed. They got off their bikes when they reached the Regina di Garda entrance. Between the hordes of vacationers who were taking a walk along Lake Garda or were just returning from a walk, they decided to walk with their bikes in hand. They passed a security guard who asked them to show him their wristbands.