I’m so sad looking at those pictures. On the second and fifth you can see the huge trees on the neighbours estate. Well, they are all cut down now. 20 huge pine trees. Gone. On the other hand: I really like the new neighbors. I’m just sad, that they don’t like trees.
A beautiful lake and a Fairytale-Phantasie-Castle – just enough to have a very nice autumnal hike. Pavlov went INTO a lake but he was shivering afterwards, so I decided that this would be the last time swimming until April next year for him. Poor Pavlov – always those parents decisions.
On our way back to Germany we didn’t wanted an overnight stay in Switzerland, because of the costs. So we looked for a hotel and stopped just next to the border in a picturesque village named Castello Cabaglio. Our home for this one night was a real palazzo (Palazzo Ronchelli) from the 17th century, majestic and labyrinthine at the same time. In the morning I took a long walk through the nearby forest with Pavlov and found something special for him me.
A Walk in the Forest
Mario, The Saddler
Already on my way to the forest I crossed this small workshop, not far from the church, and was fascinated from the old machines. When I came back, I couldn’t resist entering, looking at the products and chatting to the owner. Mario once lived in Berlin and shared his flat with anarchists. Today he produces traditional handmade leather goods. The long, adjustable dog leash I discovered, wasn’t cheap, but it was (and still is) so beautiful, that I had to buy it. That’s the thing with fine artisanal things you buy in your holidays: Everytime you use them, you remember stories of how you found them and to whom you talked to. I’m very glad to have met Mario Fenu and I’m also glad – in this case – to not have let win my inner economist.
We chose a very easy route to Monte Grande, the highest mountain in the area, and we have been flashed by the vast views over Liguria just to the Mediterranean. Pavlov disappeared for a moment and my heart stopped when I saw him playing with butterflies on a mountain top two kilometers away. Fortunately he came back immediately when I whistled.
There are some places in the world you don’t look for but you get there anyway. I don’t know why, but there is this feeling of belonging somehow. Montalto Ligure is just one of those tiny wild villages placed on a mountain top in the Mediteranian Alps.
In Glori we saw a big building far away in the mountains and we asked what this is. We thought it would be a monastery or something similar. Someone told us, this would just be another village. But it would be very hard to get there and only two habitants would still live there. Both more than 90 years old.
San Bernado Di Conio
There is a road leading to this mountain village which is recommended only in the months May to November. In this complicated surroundings, in 1944, during WW2, the Nazis chased members of the Italian Resistance. Every September the people of san Bernado die Conio celebrate their heroes.
In San Bernado, a small chapel nearby, under thick layers of paint, drawings from the Middle Ages where found.
We needed to go shopping and see a vet and so we went to the next bigger town which was Arma di Taggia. I wanted to dip my toe into the sea and was sure that Pavlov would have some fun too. A lot of English and Dutch people hang around in the sun next to the sea and some of them even swam. When we took a walk through the old town center we came to the Piazza in front of the big church and a lot of elder Ladies sat there chatting. I asked if this would be the “la Piazza delle Donne” (the women’s space) and got “le Donne ANCIANI!” for an answer (the ELDER women space). Happy that some traditions stay forever.