Our Travels

October 1, 2024–

Today was a “down day”, I.e., a day of rest and staying put at our B&B. After all of the driving, walking, and sightseeing, this was a day of recuperation and enjoyment of the spectacular views of Lake Como we have on our back deck!

Dad read when he could, worked on his photography off and on, and cooked a scrumptious dinner with what we had purchased in the little market downhill on Sunday. We ate frozen homemade (I think) ricotta and spinach tortellini in EVOO and grated cheese (not Parmesan cheese, but rather Grana Padano). On the side, we had pan-roasted, then broiled, multigrain bread with fresh local pears and topped with melted Alto Magritte cheese (the kind lady in the market told me that this was what the Locals always used). We drizzled some Balsamic glaze on top of the bread concoction, and it was PERFECT!

While Dad did his thing, I ventured out onto the mountainside to explore our surroundings. All along my walk, I aimed to photograph all of the wildflowers I could find. Since I was a small child living in Italy, I remember those wildflowers that do not grow in the Midwest USA. The only ones I have not seen are poppies and lilies of the valley, but I do not think that they’re in season. I also did not see cyclamens in the wild. I know that they are flourishing in pots/containers outside as I write….

On my walk, I first came across Paolo (Monica’s husband), our Host. We discussed traffic, parking, teeny-tiny bats that fly back and forth at night from our roof to the dark forest adjacent to us, the “yellow” snails that never used to be here until they were likely “brought in by the Americans when they introduced the potato to Italy,” to the fender bender he had with another mountain Local yesterday (“she has a reputation of driving a little fast, perhaps she was texting, or…”. He approached the curve coming up the mountain and activated his brakes, she was coming down and around the curve, and did not brake…but the damage was minor, and no one got hurt”), to Mussolini, to the views just outside our B&B, which he believed are the BEST views of Lake Como, to the age of this community, dating back to 900s A.D., to Villas and how originally people preferred to build as high up the mountain as possible in order to avoid unwanted visitors to anything close to shore; now, however, people are preferring to build as close to the water as possible, believing that those houses/villas communicate more prestige, to the level of the water in Lake Como (it really does not rise because it has no tides. Any excess runoff flows toward Como, so the houses do not flood), to the history of this community dating back to Roman occupation for quite some time, to the Strada Regia (Royal Road/Street) that is the narrow path on which we drive today (much of it, anyway) that once connected travel between Como and Bellagio, to Jewish escapees from the Nazis under Hitler’s rule and the role that some Local boat people ferried them across the Lake to the mountain range opposite us, behind which is Switzerland/freedom, and so on. I enjoyed talking to Paolo, and I hope that he enjoyed the conversation, too.

Farther down on this same path, I met a wonderful older woman whose name is Anna Maria. She was just bringing out the trash and taking her routine walk up to our B&B and back just to get some fresh air and keep joints moving. We struck up a conversation and walked together for a little while, as we discussed so many things, from family to her life story, to changes to the area brought by tourism, to parking shortages on the mountain and around this Lake more generally, to politics, to healthcare, to relationships, to children, to war, to religion, to wildflowers, to violence, to Mussolini (Il Duce, who was murdered just across this Lake), to faith. You name it, we somehow touched upon it. Our conversation lasted for quite some time, and we thoroughly delighted in it! Then, it was time to say good-bye. I watched her walk away as I checked in with Dad so that he would not think I’d gotten lost. Then, I went out again. Paolo had told me about more old, old houses up the mountain, and even a very old, old Church, La Madonna Dei Cespi (The Madonna of the Shrubs), way up the Mountain beyond those old, old houses, just a half-hour walk away (UPHILL) but beautiful, nonetheless. I thought I’d follow as much of that path as possible to see what I could see. It was getting late in the afternoon, and I did not really want to launch into a 30-minute uphill climb. Besides, the path was not necessarily paved/smooth/even. I am not known to be the most balance-perfect human being, that’s for sure.

I climbed up a set of concrete “steps” adjacent to our B&B, along a very narrow walkway between our house and the structure next door. I went through uneven cobblestone/dirt/grass terrain, into a concrete arched entryway, and along a very dark passageway with bikes, odds and ends, “caves” on either side of me, and I must admit, I turned on the flashlight on my iPhone to calm my what-if imagination that was beginning to run wild. On the other side was a really charming little outdoor garden, with a small red table and chairs, toy dinosaurs and parrots on vines and along the concrete steps on the left side, and some old, old concrete houses that I was not sure were still inhabited UNTIL—I heard voices coming from somewhere up ahead and came upon an older man sitting in front of one of these old, old buildings on a concrete bench. We struck up a conversation, which focused primarily on the beauty of this old neighborhood, how he was the one who had created that small public piazza (the red table and chairs/dinosaurs, and so on) for anyone to stop by and drink an aperitif, or rest, or enjoy the scenery, and how the piazza was actually in front of the house his grandfather had inhabited many years ago. He explained that he lived in a house just above his grandfather’s. He explained that way back when, when his grandfather was living there, the Rosary would be recited in May of every year. People would gather in this space, now his “piazza”, to join in praying the Rosary. More recently, however, the practice has been discontinued. He invited me to sit for awhile, asked me if I would like him to make me some tea, and when I gently declined his hospitality, he wanted to show me the fresco of the Madonna and two saints (he did not know who the saints were, however. He said that he would try to find out) that was painted above his grandfather’s house door about 100-150 years ago. He showed me the Corte (courtyard) between his grandfather’s house and his, with several tables, where, he explained they cook dinners and serve them to their friends/guests in the summertime. Gianni was eager to show me the interior of his grandfather’s house next. There, he stored some potatoes, apples for ripening, and other fruits/vegetables that he collected from his garden. There is an old, old stove there that his grandfather used to use, some old paraphernalia, such as old irons, coffee grinders, and so on, rom his grandfather’s time. Lining the wall was beer and other beverages to serve his friends. He asked repeatedly if I would like anything. He offered me an unripened green apple from his tree, which I graciously accepted as a “memento” from my “tour”, or perhaps my trip to Italy. He was quite proud of his toy dinosaurs lining his property and wanted me to photograph them. They are there as a point of interest for children who might walk by and want to play with one or more of these. He showed me his garden, his lemon tree, and even the bananas growing on his banana tree! We talked about the little Church another 15 minutes uphill, and how Mass is still said there about two or three times per year.

Gianni offered to drive us anywhere we wished around this Lake because that’s what he does on the side. He walked me back to the B&B so that I would not get lost, and asked me several times to come back to say good-bye before we left for our next stop in Bobbio (on Thursday morning).

All in all, this was a wonderful and most rewarding day spent with getting to know the delightful people who live here a little bit more deeply.

Finally, today was the day that I contacted my relatives in Tuscany, Prossedi, and Porto Cesareo to see if we could meet when we came closer to where they live. Some have already responded, and we have confirmations to meet for coffee, or dinner. We are still waiting for the rest to reply. Above all else, we do not want to cause any bother for any of them or change their schedules/routines just because we breezed into town after about 50 years. Hopefully, we will be able to meet with all whom I have contacted, but if not, God willing, there will be another time. For now, however, we are extremely excited about catching up with those who have replied!

Tomorrow is NOT a “down day”, meaning that we will likely venture out somewhere around this Lake and return before nightfall.