I believe in breaks, in those moments that make you stop, those when you must observe, you must breathe. Those obliged stops that make you admire the useless human presence. I believe in friendship and in selective condivision. I think that Misérin is one of those places, and much more, a magic spot out of time, even though those might be sold out words for the ones who live the mountain and does not take advantage of it. To get there you don’t need iron legs and ultra-tech lightweight stuff but only a bit of heart and sweat. Then, you reach the Misérin, and everything opens up, like a city in summer o r a flower in spring. All of a sudden you notice that the eyes become the first thing, primary representation of your needs. You got everything there, the view, the wine, the beer, the commodities, vices and goodness and a dog called Woulk. Avalaible for the sight only, because taking advantage of certain things could not be so easy. In the end this is one of the places of my heart, together with others in this magic Valley in which I live, that still at 30 I did not explore all; sometimes stinginess is good – I should say – otherwise life could be so boring! That’s one of the places where I would like to stay for a couple of weeks of vacation. Not cruises or Club Med’s, just a house, a lake, nectar and some good pages to read. Maybe a bit of tobacco and some sweet note. Please, go to the Misérin Refuge, in winter, summer, spring or autumn, but absolutely go there, because if you still have a bit of humility and sensitivity, in those fucked up years 2000, this is the right place to take it out; that’s the right place to stop, at least for 5 minutes. Go away from everything, from the traffic, from the Bible, from the downtown aperitif and from the banks. But make it, before you crash, because that suffering wich is on everybody’s mouth, must be endorsed, at least once in your life. And that’s THE place where you can do it.
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