To Russia with love

This week: planning for St Petersburg, a passion for Lake Garda, a swell time in Scotland, and trips for autumn sunshine

this magical area, a passion that has lasted for 40 years.

My first visit as a teenager in the summer of 1976 was actually a brief one; I was travelling on the Paris to Venice overnight train and it skirted tantalisingly close to Lake Garda’s southern shores. In the early morning light, the waters of the lake glistened, producing a jewel-like quality that I have never forgotten. Such was its effect on me, I cut short my time in Venice and returned to spend several days in Limone, a small village on the lake’s western shore.

My time was spent (always in glorious sunshine) having breakfasts that stretched on for several hours, followed by boat trips covering all four corners of the lake.

Evenings were spent in one of the countless lakeside pizzerias (always alfresco of course), before joining locals on their passeggiata (leisurely walk or stroll) before bedtime. Oh what memories… STEVE GREEN

Drama in Durness

I enjoyed Liz Verwoerd’s account of her journey to Durness by bus (Readers’ Views, September 3) as it reminded me of a great adventure experienced when travelling in that part of the world with my family.

In 1967, my husband and I took our four daughters, then aged seven, five, three and one, on an exciting

outing to Cape Wrath. To cross the Kyle of Durness, the ferryman was hailed from the far side of the bay to bring his rowing boat for our journey.

Although it was August, the water looked a bit rough. We all scrambled into the boat and midcrossing were told by the

old ferryman “there is a big swell today”.

After reaching the coast we went in a minibus, bumping along the nine miles of rough track to the north-west coast with frequent stops as, to add to the excitement, there were naval manoeuvres along the coastline. Safely, we

reached the lighthouse on the headland to be greeted by its foghorn. Sadly, none of these lighthouses are manned any more.

Then we made the return journey to the Kyle hoping that “the swell” had not increased and we would be rowed back. CARYL DAVIDSON