Villalago
Villalago is the sort of place where your destination always seems to be at the top of another flight of steps. It requires energy, and it doesn’t help that I’ve clearly approached the town from the wrong end. I find myself in a residential area where the modern houses have an inscrutable, do-not-disturb look on this summer Sunday afternoon. Still, even now, even here in this quiet town in the hills of Abruzzo, getting ambushed by decibels is not out of the question. Hurtling down the empty street is a vehicle, windows open, music blaring, passengers yelling. I glimpse the occupants as the car roars past: just some teenagers...
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error in translation leaving this article non quite correct. Happiness is NOT desiring what you have, is the correct translation.…
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