Surely Nothing Else Can Go Wrong?
‘Surely nothing else can go wrong,’ I thought to myself as I removed my Redpaddle inflatable SUP from its rucksack. I was in the tiny Italian village of Torno on the shore of Lake Como, in northern Italy. This was a paddle I had been looking forward to for quite some time. But I was running late. At least 24 hours late. And I was in the wrong village!
Lake Como Italy
When I found out I would be visiting Milan in March 2017, my first thought was to search online to find some suitable locations for Stand-up Paddleboarding (SUP). I wasn’t too concerned that my search turned up blank as I realised Lake Como was only an hour or so from Milan by train.
After my previous difficulties hiring suitable boards and equipment abroad, this time I was going to take my own inflatable SUP, rolled around my single-cylinder pump, and my newly purchased three-piece paddle. All carefully wrapped in various towels.
Juventus Stadium
But before heading to Como, I made a quick one-night trip to Turin. I love watching football, so the opportunity to watch Juventus v Milan at the Juventus Stadium was too good to pass up. There was a fantastic atmosphere inside the stadium, and I enjoyed watching Juventus win 2-1 thanks to a (very) last-minute penalty. But then my plans started to go awry.
Have you ever had one of those nights out which is completely unplanned and turns into a fantastic occasion? If you have, then you’ll understand what I mean.
I popped into the Irish Bar round the corner from my hotel for just one quick post-match drink, which soon turned into more than one. Many, many more than one! I got into the bad company (or maybe it was ‘the good company’) of two American expats, seven Irishmen on a weekend away and two Italian barmaids who seemed intent on plying us all with shots. The beer, the Irish whiskey, and a huge variety of shots were flowing. I can’t remember the last time I had so much fun in a pub. And I definitely don’t recall the last time I had such a sore head the following day.
So I arrived in the town of Como much later than expected, and much more tired than expected. I still intended to have a paddle on the first day, but when I went for a walk around the town, to seek a suitable spot to get onto the Lake, I couldn’t really find anywhere. It was late afternoon, early evening. Time was passing, and I decided to leave my paddle until the following day. Plan A was gone.
Plan B: I took a cruise on the ferry service around the southern end of the lake to shake off the hangover and to scout out a suitable launching point away from the main town. Just as the ferry was pulling out of the stop at Moltrasio, that’s when I saw it. A small slipway next to the ferry stop. I could easily inflate my board here. It even looked like a safe spot to leave my pump and bag while I was on the lake—secluded and safe. I decided to return here the following day.
The following morning found me back on the ferry and looking forward to a few hours paddling. Yesterday had been a bit of a write-off, but nothing would go wrong today. Suddenly I realised that the ferry had passed the port of Moltrasio! What had happened? Had I dozed off for a few minutes? Or maybe I had just been daydreaming? Or did the ferry follow a different route on a Sunday? I still don’t know how it happened, but I had missed Moltrasio! And the ferry was heading to the next stop at Torno. What was I going to do?
I decided to get off at Torno anyway and look for a spot to get on the lake. I’m glad I did, as Torno is a tiny, beautiful village on the eastern shore of Lake Como. And I quickly found a suitable place to get on the lake. Nothing else was going to go wrong.
Or could it? As I took my board and pump out of the rucksack, I could see that the pump had not survived the trip intact. The pressure gauge was broken off, and the thread was also damaged! Oh no! I was in a tiny village a long way from anywhere. There would be absolutely no chance of finding a replacement pump here. I’d travelled a long way for this paddle, and I’d been eagerly looking forward to it for a long time. I’m sure you can imagine how I was feeling.
My first thought was to try and hold the two broken ends of the pump together with one hand whilst trying to pump with the other. I can't imagine why I even thought this might work! As soon as I got any air at all into the board, it just came back out again. It was useless. Was my paddle over before it had even begun? I needed some gaffer tape. But the village was so tiny I wasn’t even sure it had a shop of any description. And it was Sunday. Nothing would be open.
But just as I was on the verge of giving up, bitterly disappointed, I remembered seeing a group of Scouts sitting in the village square as I passed through earlier. I remembered that I had been a Scout as a teenager. And I remembered that the motto of the Scouts was ‘Be Prepared’! Hopefully the Scouts would be prepared for my predicament and be able to lend me some tape? So I made my way back up to the square, taking my broken pump with me, and made my request, mainly through sign language as I don’t speak Italian. Sadly, these particular Scouts were not prepared for my particular request. It’s been several years since I was in the Scouts; maybe the motto has changed.
I was once again close to packing my gear away and heading back to Como. But there at the far corner of the square, I saw a café. Perhaps they could help. So I went in and, again using my best sign language and acting skills, I asked for help. The lady behind the counter was extremely helpful. She had no plastic tape, but she did have some parcel tape. You know, the very thin, light brown parcel tape. Would it be strong enough?
I held the two broken ends of the pump together, and I wrapped and wrapped and wrapped. Round and round, over and over again. By the time I had finished, the join felt pretty strong. Would it be good enough? Was the join sealed, or would the air just escape through the gaps? Only one way to find out:
And it worked. Well, almost. I managed to inflate the board to some extent. Eventually, as the pressure increased, air began to escape through the gaps in the tape. I had no idea how much air I had managed to get in, as the gauge was broken. The board didn’t feel as firm as usual, but it would have to do. My long-awaited paddle on Lake Como was going to take place after all. Hopefully I had enough air in to take my weight. I wasn’t wearing a wetsuit so I didn’t fancy a dip in the water. It was a pleasantly warm spring day, perhaps 20*C. But I knew the water in Lake Como had come down from the surrounding mountains as the winter snow and ice had melted. The water wasn’t going to be warm.
Well, the good news was that my plan worked; the board comfortably took my weight, albeit it was much less firm than I was used to. The water was calm, there was virtually no wind, and the scenery was more beautiful than I can adequately describe. I spent a pleasant hour or so paddling back over to Moltrasio before heading south, along the western shore to the slightly larger village of Cernobbio. It had all been worth the effort. Amazing scenery and a tranquil part of the lake. The water was almost entirely flat. And it was lunchtime!
When in Rome (well, Lake Como) and all that. So it was pizza and Pinot Grigio for lunch. Just the one glass, as I still had to cross the lake again to my starting point. I spent a wonderful hour sitting with the warm spring sunshine on my face, eating, drinking, and explaining stand-up paddleboarding to some American tourists.
Time to head back for Torno. But guess what? Whilst I was at lunch, the wind had gotten up considerably. And I would be paddling into the wind to get back to my starting point. And there was a lot more traffic travelling up and down the lake. The water was choppy, partly as a result of the wind and partly as a result of the greater volume of traffic on the lake as the day wore on. And my board wasn’t as firm as it should have been. It was hard work on the return trip. My board felt wobbly, very wobbly indeed. Maybe I should have stuck to one glass of wine with my pizza. The first part of my journey, from Torno to Moltrasio to Cernobbio, was peaceful, tranquil and relaxing. The second part, directly across from Cernobbio back to Torno, was a bit more challenging. Not the hardest paddle I’ve undertaken, not by a long shot, but the reduced air pressure in my board certainly added to the challenge. I was delighted to make it back to Torno, in one piece, and, more importantly, dry!
