The first thing you see when you look out the window is the garden overlooking the seventeenth-century village with the tiny church and the houses lined up along the quiet street. Having breakfast in this “living” space that punches through the horizon made of water and mountains, or lingering here at dusk, helps you to recover the pleasure of “enjoying the surface”, to rediscover happiness in small things and gratuitous time. Commencing or ending your day with such a levity is a true antidote to haste, anxiety and the myth of performance at all costs.
This redeeming power I know well, as I relive it every single day.
Beyond the garden comes a beautiful portion of the Garda Lake. A stroll, a hike or an excursion are good enough excuses to explore the surroundings, to get to know what Italy looks like around here, to understand why ours is such a beloved panorama.
Cypresses and olive trees remind you of Tuscany, slopes are terraced just like in Liguria, the snowy mountains plunge into the cobalt blue waters just like in Japanese landscapes.
The vegetation, then, is a living tale of apparent contradictions: caper bushes, bougainvillea, oleanders, palm trees, citrus trees and prickly pears grow side by side with hazelnut trees and cyclamens. All of this happens spontaneously, in a luxuriant way.
This is a strange place indeed, where beauty is unstructured but harmonious and everybody feels at home.