15/09/2025
Ah, Lake Maggiore, on we go into Switzerland. Picture perfect water, mountains that practically beg to be photographed, I've only taken about a million. We've seen little towns like Ascona and Locarno that clearly know they’re pretty and charge you accordingly. Walking around, you’ll quickly realize these “charming” lakeside strolls are hiding a grim reality: hills, or maybe I'll rename them hells. Everything is uphill.
But fear not! Locarno offers you the funicular and cable cars, because nothing says “relaxing holiday” quite like being hauled up a mountain in an overcrowded glorified ski lift. The views are spectacular, sure, but so is the sudden realization that you’ve paid mightily for the privilege of dangling over enormous cliffs in a tin can. Then you cheer up because at least your legs and lungs can function normally.
Still, when you finally step off at the top, the lake sparkles waaay beneath you, and you forget your wallet’s suddenly much lighter. Welcome to Lake Maggiore, where beauty hurts, sometimes literally.