We have been told there is a market in Iseo town centre so we head of along the combined pedestrian/cyclepath again towards town. The villa we saw yesterday, and thought was semi-derelict but very attractive, has its big iron gates open and a car on the drive so obviously someone is either living there or renovating it.

We find the market taking place under the watchful gaze of Garibaldi, whose statue towers above the stalls in the square. There is the usual range of stalls; clothes both cheap and expensive, leatherwork belts, wallets and purses, homemade jeweller and blingy handbags, plus some less usual ones like the one dealing solely in vacuum cleaner spares, but has everything to build a complete one if that was your wish. [not sure what brand of Italian vacuum cleaners; furarri, dustcatti, matseratti perhaps]. There are also fresh produce stands; fish, cheese and fruit & veg. We buy some vegetables and a few cheeses including bufala mozzeralla.

After checking the timetables for the boats we have time for a coffee. No sign of those famous Italian sounding emporia Cafe Nero or Costa anywhere - horray! We sit outside a lovely little bar under the shade of an olive tree and order caffe, simple caffe. No mocca-chocca-frappy-crappy-skinburnt-latty-canno for us! The waitress returns with, as anticipated, two small, half filled cups that you think would be gone in half a mouthful, but the steaming, dark, syrupy coffee is so rich that each tiny sip is a joy. And the cost of such pleasure? €1.20

Refreshed we head to the pier and buy tickets for our boat trip. The boat arrives, everyone boards in typically disorderly fashion and we set off at a fair lick across the lake, passing the campsite and glimpsing Mary*Lou in the distance. We have one intermediate stop then we are approaching Monte Isola, the island in the lake. Nearing shore the scene is reminiscent of Venice; small boats bobbing against tall striped mooring pillars, buildings with low-pitched tiled rooves and scruffy plaster, bright flower baskets.

We disembark and wait for the crowd to disperse then wander along the quayside, which is also the main road - beware of the occasional scooter, Piaggio 3-wheel 'truck' or more dangerous the packs of cyclists on guided tours.

The harbourside is obviously very old, mostly 3-4 storey building with shutters and balconies. One has a colonnaded rooftop veranda such as might be seen in illustrations of ancient Roman villas.

The most modern building is a multi storey scooter park, three levels of Vespas and Lamberettas packed in side-by-side. There is also a bit of modern art; two marine engine con-rods with additions to make him- and her-something. We stop at two restaurants to try to have lunch but both are closing yet it is only 14:00

Leaving the town the road changes from tiles to tarmac and we pass a few colourful gardens and courtyards. Lizards scurry away as we approach and butterflies flit around. A few people are swimming in the lake or sunbathing on rocks coloured red, yellow and green by algae. In the haze we can see the next town along about a mile, and a small island with some kind of fort.

We reach a large grassy area with tables and chairs and a pleasant young woman selling pizza from a wagon. That'll do us! Nearby, while we wait, a young man digs a pit and bashes in a post with a sledgehammer. How he managed to get it to lean over at the right angle we don't know, but having walked around it twice, and chatting jovially with pizza girl, he pops his pick and sledge in the basket of his bike and pedals away satisfied.

We too are satisfied, finish our drinks and wander a bit further past old olive trees on the shore, scenery sometimes visible through their decayed trunks.

The water's surface slops about like oil as we watch a cormorant ride the small swell before diving and resurfacing 30m away 30 or so seconds later. He obviously doesn't want his picture taken as every time either of us lines up a camera he plunges leaving us with a perfectly focused ripple of water.

We head back to town, check the timetable and find we have time to sample the goods from another gelateria, this time it's hazelnut ice-cream.

The boat arrives and it's another scramble to the front, but Nick sees all these ankles jumping in front as a target rich environment and we are far from last.

On the way back to site Ali visits the supermarket for 'some milk and orange-juice'. After 45 minutes Nick is just about bored with this particular street corner when she reappears wrestling with 5 carrier bags containing 'a few things to keep us going or the week'.

We've seen road signs for 54 Tonne lorries but are not sure about the weight limit on pavements. Suffice to say, once loaded, the chair was probably approaching permisso massimo in spite of what Ali had to carry.

The air is cooler tonight and we enjoy a leisurely salad with some of the goodies from the market and some of the heavy beer from the supermarket.

No sunset tonight but a few short showers, then the haze lifted after dark and the towns across the lake sparkle brightly before we pull the blinds.