When Somewhere In Northern Italy.com was close to hitting the count of 9,000 visitors I thought it would be nice to write a note of appreciation to all of you and post it when we hit the magical 10,000. But I missed that because the visitors just kept flowing. And all-of-a-sudden I found myself looking at the stats amazed and overjoyed, now approaching 12,000 hits.
As of today, 6th of May 2019 the page recorded visitors from 88 countries from around the world. If you check the world map below you will notice where all the visitors come from (all areas except the grey ones mean visitors – the darker the magenta the higher the numbers of visitors).
And there is the list of the countries from the top of the statistics, although this does not mean that we don’t equally appreciate each visitor from any corner of the world.
And how better to celebrate this joy than traveling back to somewhere in northern Italy… When I am writing this post my suitcases are getting ready in the corner of my New York apartment to fly back to B. – the Queen of the Palm Trees on the Italian Riviera. Where the balcony will once again open to the view of the good old belfry on one side and to the infinite blue of the Mediterranean on the other.
I will spend some time early in the summer visiting again the places where more than three decades ago Elio and Oliver have found each other and their love-for-a-life in André Aciman’s romantic painting “Call Me By Your Name” – almost as impressionist as Claude Monet. And also, the places in Lombardia where Luca Guadagnino re-painted the same picture with Armie Hammer and Timothée Chalamet with the fascinating Cremasco background, the charming Crema, the astonishing Palazzo Albergoni in Moscazzano and the endless bike-rides on the tiny grey path that drives deep into the yellow, blue and green scenery of the Italian countryside.
As a note of gratitude and appreciation, actually a love letter to you all who travelled with me all this time I will bring back the souvenir of more summer days and nights at those unforgettable places. The sound of cicadas, the evening breeze of the sea, the bike-rides, the chime of the old belfry in the morning, the flowery smell of the sundrenched piazzetta, the taste of freshly squeezed apricot juice, the dozen-spiced tortelli cremaschi, the strong grappa…the hug of Italy. Not one of you can imagine how grateful I am for having you join me on these journeys.