About three weeks ago I was in a town called Kampen. I thought it was cute, but I felt that something was missing. Then, as I crossed a bridge, I looked at the horizon through the plexiglass for protection. Refraction, two overlapping Kampen: the first to represent the city and the other, just above, crowning the hills.
As I have loved the Netherlands, I think that the lack of mountains is something that, deep down, causing me a bit 'sad.
morning, around 10, I was on the road that passes in front of the winery Scandiano. Two hundred meters before the plains suddenly stops there and the Apennines claim their space and their shape. If you spend there, and the air is clear as this morning, and run to your left, yet intensely snowy peaks that surround the Cusna, your right to see the plain, a vast plain. You see her in an incredibly clear: the Calatrava bridges can almost touch them, you think that if you agree you may be able to see the Arena di Verona, maybe the Duomo in Milan. And there, behind all, the Alps, with their imposing plastic from hot sun and snow.
And you go by car, and no time to stop and look. Or maybe the time is there, but there is still the same.
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