On the way back, we stopped at Gabriele’s well hidden spot for the unfiltered wheat beer he spoke of. The beer was good, but the landscape put it to shame. Eyes had won over taste buds in today’s sensory battle. This place was pure serenity nestled into the mountains.
Stopping at the border on our return to Italy I noticed an abandoned building up on a hill. I climbed a ladder built into a retaining wall to take a closer look. The roof and most of the floors had fallen in long ago and against my better judgment I pushed past the thorny bushes to go inside and take some photos. Climbing the stairs to the non-existent third floor was probably foolish, but the wooden stairs were obviously the strongest part of the interior; after all, they were the only things still intact even though they were covered in a thick layer of rotted plaster and cement. On the way out, pieces of what was once the ceiling began to fall on me. I had disturbed the building and it was angry with me. Wisely, I decided that my time there was up and I made a quick exit…through a window.
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| Dad finds humour in the fact that the building hadn't fallen on me |
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| A different kind of skylight |
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