Abandoned Altars

Twice this summer I went to what is one of my most favorite places in Italy: the Santerno River near Moraduccio. The river itself is beautiful - clear water, deep pools among lots of shallow little streams, a waterfall, greenery, birdsongs, etc. Basically, it's paradise. And you don't even get sand in your hair, because it's replaced by big, smooth white rocks. They're perfect for sunbathing, if you enjoy such activities.



The counterpoint to this river is the old town of Castiglioncello, which sits high above the river on a mountaintop. It's been abandoned and the half-collapsed, decaying buildings and churches are an amazing sight. To get there, you have to climb about 20 minutes up a dirt road, and suddenly you find yourself among stone buildings with splintered wooden rafters and blackberry bushes growing up inside the old houses. According to this website, the inhabitants already numbered a sad 85 in 1833. A friend told me that the residents all left to come to the USA. Or they realized that their village was incredibly inconvenient, since the road is basically vertical, and they all moved down the mountain.



As always, in any isolated part of Italy, amazing food can be found at super low prices. The nearby restaurant (which, I believe, is named "The Waterfall" or something equally creative) is full of truffle ravioli and steak and amazingly thick mascarpone. Plus, the owner has 5 Siamese long-haired cats that have to have their eyes bathed 3 times a day. She is a superwoman.



The funny thing about my visits to the river is that, the second time, we HAD to replay the exact same experience again (day by the river, late afternoon climb to abandoned town, extravagant dinner before heading home) because it was amazing. And surprisingly enough, it was equally wonderful the second identical time. This must be proof that originality is overrated in the face of good food and days spent lounging by bodies of water.