I got L for fall break this year. The children’s mom and I decided to split the kidlets for the first time. And now I was nervous.

You see, we were going to Italy, and now I watched in dismay as the weather turned from bad to worse to Noah’s Ark. Parts of the country were under water as we set out, with more to come. The west coast was one big thunderstorm. It didn’t look good.

Upon arrival at Milano airport there was a queue for taxis that stretched around the block, with only the occasional car coming in. As we finally got one ourselves it became apparent why: the trip into town was plighted by long detours, as necessitated by storm-felled trees and inundated stretches of street.

The streets of Milano…

Having settled in in our apartment I surveyed our options. The east coast was out: the water levels in Venice were 1.5 metres higher than usual, with gondolas all but entering the duomo; the alps were downright dangerous, with mud slides and torrential rain; the west coast looked like our best option – hiking Cinque Terre it would be.

We took the train southwards next morning. There was no rain, but nor were the skies particularly promising-looking. News reports were alarming: 20 dead and counting. L took it all in his stride, the way only a ten-year-old with a good book and a smartphone can.

Una di Cinque Terre.

We managed to arrive in the port town of La Spezia without any incident, and the next day we set out for the five coastal villages that form Cinque Terre. Alas, all the hiking paths were closed, so we had to go by train again, but given just how mountainous the region is, and how tired L got from strolling around the labyrinthine alleys and stair-cases of the ones we visited, and the number of gelatos that entailed, it was probably for the best.

The villages are beautiful, for the record, and this time of the year (and again, due to the weather-scare) the number of tourists was not too horrible, but there was no way they would be able to live up to my expectations, so having done three out of five, we left it at that.

Instead we headed for Lucca next day, a medieval town with a completely intact ring wall, something which I thought might intrigue a ten-year-old boy.

Well, the fates smiled upon us. Unawares to us, the city is home to one of the biggest comic-cons of the world – the whole town essentially transforms into a games and comics-themed amusement park for five days, and this happened to be day one of that extravaganza, so the medieval setting was full to bursting with cosplayers of all kinds. L was mightily pleased.

Lucca-like contest?

We essentially did la passergata on top of the ring wall, oohing and aahing at all the weird and wonderful critters we encountered, and on top of that there was zombie face painting and manga drawing lessons, whole tents devoted to computer games and a cordoned-off area where people could fight apocalyptic paint-ball wars. It was boyhood heaven.

And so passed our last day in Tuscany proper. The next day we set out for Milano again, and had time both for some quick shopping and several hours worth of browsing the fantastic museum devoted to all things Leonardo Da Vinci that is housed in the Vittorio Emanuele II-galleria.

It was the renaissance equivalent of Lucca: models galore, all the well-known gunships and flying machines and robots, and all of them with virtual displays showing how they had figured them out based on his drawings; some you could assemble yourself using building blocks, with explanations as to what would work and what wouldn’t.

Lisa does Technicolor

All his most famous paintings were equally disassembled, explained and restored digitally: you could view Mona Lisa in the colours in which she was painted (instead of the yellow fever’d version), the Last Supper the way it was meant to be seen (before it was bombed and “restored” with equally ghastly results), and the Vitruvian man came to life and walked out of his painting. It was another childhood dream come true.

All in all, travels in Tuscany with my ten-year-old wildly surpassed my expectations. We managed to work around the weather (literally) and had a grand old time. Not setting a rigid itinerary payed off in spades, and with a bit of luck we had more fun together than I think either of us dared hope for. Da capo!

I due coppe grande…