It is still raining on the banks of lake Maggiore. Today we take a long drive to the city of the Kings of Savoy, Venaria Reale. It is sunny there. The drive takes just under three hours as we rejecte the autostrade in favor of backroads.. We see farm houses and vineyards as we meander through farm country. Brand new combines and beat up tractors make their way across small town intersections. Autumn leaves fall onto golden fields.
The gps takes us on a “short cut” through rice fields. Although the one lane road with two way traffic is already unnerving, the deep ditches full of water inches from our tires make the 10 miles extra interesting. Thankfully there are only a few other cars (probably farmers wondering how we got into their fields). We, however, are blessed with our first ever up close look at a rice farm. We also have the good fortune to encounter a large fox, a pair of cranes, and a wide variety of smaller birds. Sometimes detours off the highway are well worth it.
After unexpectedly finding ourselves on the autostrada just outside Turin, we navigate city traffic until we reach the peaceful town of Venaria. With surprising ease, we find parking and a large ticket office. The only confusing part is navigating the ticket office. There is no information about what we are queuing up to purchase. This is a problem, because we are here only due to the fact that the sun is shining. I haven’t done much research beyond “dry” and “palace tour”. When I get to the front of the line to talk to a salesperson, I am met with a blank stare. When I ask about information… blank stare. Not a “I don’t understand you but let me try to help” stare. It is a “you don’t exist to me” stare. (I guess when other Italians tell you that the Turinese are unfriendly, they aren’t kidding.) In frustration, I ask for “dua bigliettos”. The attendant hands me two tickets and finally gives the information I asked for prior to purchase. Armed with tickets and a map, we head out to explore.
The palace is much larger than I expect, with extensive gardens. We walk through former servant areas that have been turned into museum exhibits about the Savoy family and the extensive changes the building has undergone over the centuries. The rooms are large, but unfortunately most of the furnishings have been lost. So we look at a lot of sparsely furnished rooms, with only some of the recovered art collections.
Things change as we travel into the king’s living area. Even the architecture screams power. A great hallway that rivals the Versailles hall of mirrors ( I actually like this one better), greets us with a cheery parquet floor. The white sculpted ceiling is a picture of understated elegance.
We stop for lunch at a terrace cafe. I order a panini drizzled with balsamica. The palace workers queue up behind us and are aggressive about getting served. I wonder if the hunger games are about to break out. It is clear that two American tourists are a nuisance in their otherwise ordered day. The guy in line behind us almost climbs into my husband’s back pocket as he pushes to get to his sandwich. I find a beautiful spot on the terrace overlooking the garden and pay the rude Turinese no mind.
However, as I sit and linger over my food while drinking in the expansive views of the garden and of the French Alps…my pushy friends inhale their sandwiches, slam back their cappuccinos, and leave. Hurry and stress…things I left behind in America. Things I have not seen elsewhere in Italy. These Torinos are intense.
The next stop is the royal chapel. It is beautiful and elegant. Giant panels of medieval art tell the stories of the Bible. Statues honor old testament figures and modern saints. The acoustics are great and I can’t helping singing. Ave Maria rings out in perfect echo. I smile to myself, looking up to see my husband watching me with amusement. Oops.
The tour ends in the stables, which are now home to the royal barge. A gilded throne for use on the water, the barge was created to make a statement. It is not clear where this floating grand canoe was used as there are no large bodies of water nearby. Perhaps it was just used to float the garden canal, a distance of perhaps a half mile just beyond the rose garden. Maybe it traveled with the Savoys. I can’t read the signs so I may never know.
The stables also house gilded carriages and golden harnesses for the matched teams that provided the horse power. It seems the Savoys traveled in style.
I wander the gardens, but they lack polish and luster. The groundskeeper has let them turn to end of season ruin. The Neptune fountain and grotto, however, adequately represent the former glory of the garden. Recently restored, the fountain is dazzling in the fall sunlight. The restoration team, left enough of the original foundation and ruins intact so that you can see the antiquity amidst the modern facade.
After a necessary gelato, we are back on the road. We decide to take a northern route to Lake Maggiore. We have had enough of rice fields for one day. As we head into the mountains, the views from the car are breathtaking. It is a much better road than the morning’s farm country, despite the hills. Our car doesn’t go up the steep inclines very fast, but it chugs along. Sure, we have some unhappy Italian drivers aggressively riding our bumpers and creating the infamous Italian third lane as they pass us (usually on a blind curve); but over all it is a pleasant and scenic drive…..at least for me, because I am not the one behind the wheel.
Traffic gets a little intense in the town of Ivrea. I am quite taken with the town. Castles, waterfalls, churches, and snarling ridiculous traffic. I would love to go back, but I may have to find another driver. My usual chauffeur isn’t sure he wants a repeat.
Our drive gets a little longer due to numerous traffic jams. We never see a cause. Perhaps it is just Italian rush hour as everyone heads home through very small towns, round abouts, and one way streets. The end effect is arrival in nearby Arona well past our dinner time. We decide that it makes sense to park the car, take a leisurely stroll along the lakeside, and enjoy the ultimate comfort food. Pizza! We eat like royalty…..at least I do…I don’t think the chauffeur is happy with his choice. At least the queen is happy.
