Music Themed 16 Cakes

Al Pian of Birches - Valsassina (LC) A



Mama and I climbing up the Valsassina we pass the mysterious Villa de Vecchi, to BIND. We had already explored few months ago, so the goal now is Pian delle Betulle .
The sky is clear and warm sunshine.
Take the cable car to go up, do not look down you dizzy They come! We

up in minutes and we land in silence. And a few muffled the voices of humans, sharper sound of the wind and uncombed hair brush and curling wisps of perfume of wood up to our noses.

Polenta and cheese for me, Mama ravioli, raspberry ice cream and crème Brulee mouth-watering. Less good coffee but no matter: we had to know.

After lunch we leave stunned by blazing sun and attract the play of light on the path through the woods. We recognize the fern, rhododendron, yarrow, eyebright and I beam with the fingers sore piantagine .
breathe the smell of wood, earth and cut grass, hear the cows in the distance and the hum of some large insect in the air.

All is peace. We lie down a bit 'in the shade and let us flood the blue sky, the sound of the fountain and we do not need another.

New Tongue Piercing Burning

Mombercelli

Mombercelli we go to the four of us: dad, mom, kika and scoundrel, the black channel.

Birba spends quite a journey in the car sitting on the back and take the caresses while ankylosed from my arm to scratch my head and she twists me trying to watch the road not to vomit.
run towards Piedmont, destination: Mombercelli . A village in Monferrato-ino to reach you through the hills of embroidered vines laden with grapes, pastures and fields of sunflowers, small clusters of houses that pitted one after another with their church, the little bar, the red tiles . We get along

Sabbione and sides of this street unravel rows of tomatoes and grapes of that dusty purple surrounded wasps. The houses adorned with flowers and smiling face faces family, but clear the hot air smells of fruit soaked in the sun.

down you see an expanse of low hills slightly pale mist, a swimming pool in a chemical blue stands at the center of the valley and there's so quiet you hear the sound of voices and cannonball.

Life here seems simple. I'll give you a bit 'of my fruits and vegetables for dinner tonight I call you, tomorrow I will. The food is good and not too much, then you drink wine and grappa, so he returns home on foot in a jiffy.

The night is dark and the stars shine enough to dream the Milanese a sky that is no more.
You hear the cicadas and one gets bitten by mosquitoes reluctantly, and every evening he is aware of the insect hum of a new, never heard before. Bats and insects, muffled laughter, friendship.

's photos on Flickr Mombercelli