We are a commune of inquiring, skeptical, politically centrist, capitalist, anglophile, traditionalist New England Yankee humans, humanoids, and animals with many interests beyond and above politics. Each of us has had a high-school education (or GED), but all had ADD so didn't pay attention very well, especially the dogs. Each one of us does "try my best to be just like I am," and none of us enjoys working for others, including for Maggie, from whom we receive neither a nickel nor a dime. Freedom from nags, cranks, government, do-gooders, control-freaks and idiots is all that we ask for.
One day last week we took the ferry up Lake Maggiore to the impeccably preserved medieval village of Cannobio, just south of the Swiss border.
Cannobio (dig the poor English in that link) is one of those towns that I call "Disney Italy," or sometimes "The Italian Holodeck." It's so quaint and charming that it doesn't seem quite real. Mrs. BD likes to try to remind me that it is real, but I can't shake the feeling that I'm on a stage set.
Like most ancient Italian villages, the streets and general layout show their medieval origins, but most of the structures are Renaissance era stone, masonry and stucco.
The cars were mostly Mercedes and Audis, and the clothing shops decidedly upscale and high fashion. Mrs. BD observed that an elegant lady we passed had a $3000 handbag, so we figured that Cannobio must be a quiet escape for the prosperous of Milan. Their weekend dwellings, however, seem to be simple and 600 years old.
Our goal was a tiny restaurant we had read about, behind a church up in the mountains behind Connobio. We hiked about 3 or 4 km in intermittent rain up the Val Cannobino through the hamlet of Traffiume (all walking in northern Italy is uphill - there is no downhill. It's like an endlessly uphill Escher.), only to arrive after they had closed their lunchtime service.
Later that day, we foolishly missed the last ferry back and had to improvise by bus and cab to get back to the hotel in the dark, wet, tired - and not well-fed.
Photo is Sant Anna Church, north of Cannobio. It's perched on the edge of a prodigious gorge. If you want to lunch in the little restaurant behind it, Ristorante Grotto Sant' Anna, get there on time.
More photos of Cannobio and environs on continuation page below.
The town's main piazza on the waterfront, without people because of the rain - and because nobody is ever around at lunchtime.
A bell tower in Cannobio.
A cute little residence:
A street in Cannobio:
Always welcome: a good old-fashioned cigarette machine. It had Chesterfield Kings. Everybody smokes:
Once again BD, thanks for sharing these beautiful pictures , and nice stories. Cannobio is the home of Pinociho, so you are correct about the Disney connection. I am surprised that you did'nt see Geapeto, that little lying dago bastards father.