Italian lakeland

Sometimes it's the smallest one that gives us the most. Difficult to grasp as it might seem, my recent experience of Italy is a case in point.

When I attended the World Nephrology Congress in Milan, I stayed in a big hotel that comes with the name "Executive." As its name indicates, this hotel must be a grand one, being occupied by over thousands of executives, if not hundreds of thousands. Ah, that's the point, and I ended up paying 10 euros just for the sake of using the wireless net service for 60 minutes.

After the congress, I traveled with my wife and stayed at a two-star hotel above a family-run restaurant in Stresa (a location in Hemingway's A Farewell to Arms, in case you're interested). This small hotel is not a grand one. Obviously not, I know. Yet, the friendly family shared with me their password of the Wi-Fi, without charging me a buck. And, in a way, it didn't matter very much that this small hotel doesn't have rooms at the top end. When I next moved to Menaggio's youth hostel, the room was even smaller – and cheaper. Lest I begin to sound like mean old Scrooge, however, let me say that it is this youth hostel that offered me the most pleasant lakeside view throughout my trip.

Size rarely matters. Content does.