Turn north of Verona and somehow you enter an Italy you had not imagined. The narrow allies of the hill towns disappear, the historic central cities are not an attraction, art is not the reason for existence, and agricultural pursuits are not evident. What you find are towering snow-covered mountains and beautiful lakes. A chic atmosphere dominates. The eyes of Italy in this part of the world turn north towards Switzerland and Austria, and the architecture and food begin to incorporate northern elements: like pasta with beef sauce rather than tomato sauce, and fat dumplings instead of spaghetti, and steeples rather than towers on churches, and roof designs like chalets rather than villas. Lake Garda is crystal clear and big. We drove one hour on the eastern shore and did not go the length. We stopped at Malcesine to ride the gondola to the top of Mt. Baldo. As we drove the shoreline drive, the mountains began to rise sharply on both sides of the lake, and at Malcesine, the cozy and tony village with pastel-colored buildings and boat harbor and towering castle jutting into the lake, Mt. Baldo reigns supreme. Snow skiers joined us on the gondola ride since the mountain is still snow covered. The Standly’s mused to us that we had been on the ocean shore that morning in Venice and now we were on the mountain top. I mused that we had left one Italy and entered another. WEG