It is a chilly and rainy day today here on the shores of Lake Garda, so as I mentioned last time we shelved our more ambitious plans — a boat ride on the lake — in favor of visiting the very nearby Vittoriale di D’Annunzio, the sprawling home of Gabriele D’Annunzio, whom I slighted in my last post by calling an eccentric. He was, in fact, an Italian icon in the first third of the 20th century, an accomplished poet, playwright, World War I combat hero, ladies’ man, rabid nationalist, relentless (and spectacularly successful) self-promoter, and batshit loonball of truly epic proportions. If you have ever visited San Simeon, the Hearst Castle in California, then you know how far unlimited wealth and overweening narcissism will take you in the Over-The-Top Real Estate & Decor department, but even with that data point this place forces you to recalibrate your expectations. No photos are allowed at Vittoriale di D’Annunzio , so thanks to Google Images here is a view of the estate and a few shots of the interior:
That is a rebuilt Greek amphitheater in the foreground. What the photo does not show — because the estate is so large — is the torpedo boat that he commanded in World War I, which is installed on an adjacent hillside, nor the pet cemetery about the size and of similar appearance as the amphitheater. Inside the house — which we toured — is the biplane that he flew during a propaganda raid against Vienna in the war, in August 1918. (He led a squadron of 9 planes dropping leaflets urging the Austro-Hungarian Empire to surrender, which three months later they did.)
D’Annunzio suffered an eye injury during a plane crash earlier that year that made him averse to bright light. He was in addition to everything else a raging hypochondriac, and as a result when he built his palatial monument to himself he ensured that it was always dark and gloomy inside. Which is good, because if you were actually to behold the inconceivable mishmash of religious, artistic, and general cultural in unfiltered daylight your eyeballs would melt. Here are a couple of images of the more sedately-decorated rooms:
You stumble through the gloom half expecting Herman Munster to come lurching stiff-legged down the hallway, marveling at the heretofore inconceivable fact that this place makes San Simeon look like it was furnished by Ikea.
You’ve got to give the guy credit for sheer profligacy, though. In one room he has a reference to the Seven Deadly Sins painted above the doorway lintel. The phrase, in Italian, reads “Five Fingers, Five Sins”. Five? Yeah. Turns out that D’Annunzio refused to recognize “greed” or “lust” as sins and so dropped them from the traditional list. He definitely walked the walk.
We spent a couple of hours touring both the house and the grounds, and by the time we finished the early afternoon mist had turned into a more robust drizzle. We therefore decided to have a late lunch at a trattoria just outside the grounds in the hope that the rain would pass or at least lighten before we had to make the 15-minute walk back to our flat. And that worked, if by “lighten” you mean “strengthen into a steady downpour”. It was a wet walk back to the flat, where we arrived at about 4:00 pm.
At that point we basically called it a day, reading, napping, and generally drying out. We may get ambitious enough to go out to dinner tonight. We leave Garda tomorrow morning, though, and it appears that the weather will improve somewhat so I am hopeful that we will still get our self-promised boat ride on the lake before heading to Merano, our next destination.