Monday 30th July 2007
After our usual breakfast of bread and cheese for me and bread and jam for Annie (it’s a lot nicer than it sounds, honest), we packed up, filled our water tank, and set off towards Lake Garda.
The journey was fairly uneventful, apart from a bit around Brescia where the TomTom lady had a fit, and refused to talk to us, as well as locking her map so it didn’t know where we were. My guess is that it was all a bit too hot for her, so I stopped in a layby, turned her off for a while so she could get her breath back, and turned her on, whereupon she was as right as rain again.
Garda came upon us quite quickly, and we followed her guidance to take us to the campsite.
The only slight pimple on the bum of this plan was that we were booked in for tomorrow, and we were taking a risk by trying to get in a day early. No luck. The only space available was very small, “only for a tent-a” the lady said. No matter. We’ll try one of the other sites.
It was now around 1.30, very hot, and with some very tight and twisty roads to navigate. We went to another campsite nearby. Full.
The poor engine was getting a bit hot and bothered, and the fan kept coming on as we negotiated some nasty little roads. In the centre of one village, the TomTom lady had us going into the cobbled street centre, and then out again, down a road that had very thick, very nasty stone walls on either side. We passed through with only a couple of centimetres on each side.
At another (unnamed) location, we ended up following the twisty road down to the seafront, where we passed some startled lunchtime café dwellers, brushing one of their fancy umbrellas with our roof as we drove by a metre from their table. Half a metre further away, and our nearside wheels would have been cooling themselves off in the lake. ‘Well done G’, said Annie, yet again.
Just as we’d decided to move away from the lake, to find an inland campsite, we tried one last place, and lo and behold, they had one place left. Annie reckons that if you fib a little and say that you’re staying more than one night they’ll find a place for you. I’m not convinced but it worked this time. Admittedly, it was next to one of the toilet / shower blocks, but motorhome beggars can’t be choosers, and we took it, gratefully.
This campsite is Camping Zocco (sounds like a circus, doesn’t it?), and is at:
E 10˚ 33’ 26” N 45˚ 32’ 21”
It’s a well-tended site, with excellent showers and toilets, pool, bar, restaurant, shop, and probably some other stuff, for €28 a night (including hookup).
We had a well-earned drink at the bar (overlooking the lake), bought a few bits from the campsite shop, verified the opening times of the campsite restaurant, and retired to the van for our siesta.
I was greeted at one point by an English voice, which belonged to the lady of the partnership that were the couriers for the Eurocamp pitches on site. She was very helpful, and gave us all sorts of information about the local area, and the campsite.
We had a nice meal at the restaurant – a primo platte of gnocchi in gorgonzola sauce for Annie, and a simple spaghetti with oil, garlic, herbs and paprika dressing, for me. After Annie tasted my spaghetti, we agreed to swap. What a hero I am.
Main courses were pork fillets for me, and calamari for Annie, which were both delicious.
