The journey
to lake Bracciano was simpler than predicted, especially as I slept from the second,
I sat on the train headed to the Italian countryside. Upon arrival we were
greeted with a picture of rural Europe that perfectly matches all the stories I
have in my head: a high hill, descending to a lake through a web of tightly
packed streets all overlooked by a castle. The path down to this lake proved to
be much trickier than expected as we found ourselves cut off by dead ends and
distracted by gelato at almost every turn. However, after finally finding the
via de lago, we began our decent. The road had nothing that resembled a sidewalk
requiring a single file line half in the brush and half in the street for the twenty-minute
walk. To avoid getting lost, once again we simply stuck to the main road, avoiding
all the steep pathways shooting off the sides and were, finally, rewarded with
the soft volcanic beach stretching before us. As we scampered to the beach, we
all were forced to break briefly to find hiding places to change into our
swimsuits and march into the water. The water that greeted us could be
described as more numbing then refreshing. As soon as I dove in, I felt my body
begin to go into shock and it was only after about five minutes of wading, or
about as along as it took for me to stop feeling my legs, that the water was
truly enjoyable. Standing out in the water the entire town sprawled on the hill
in front of us with the castle dominating the scene, once again reminiscent of any
post card I have ever seen.
When we
finally left the water, my legs were approaching blue and had never experienced
a better feeling then pulling my snug pants back on. However, we were still
faced with the extensive walk back up the hill to attempt and find a dinner.
Starting our adventure moral was quite low until we found a short cut that reduced
our journey by half. It was, alas, the steepest hill I had ever encountered. As
we began Francis started her speaker and began to play my favorite song, I’m
Just Snacking (by Gus Dapperton) this song made the walk all the more enjoyable
as it turned into a dance party until we collapsed upon the final end of the
hill. As we reentered the town the Piazza filled with restaurants was quickly found
and we settled into a carafe of red wine and at least a few pounds of pasta to
regain all we had lost in the cold. Following this delicious Italian meal, we
wandered the streets of Bracciano and I felt swept into medieval times. The
houses were packed in on top of one another with maybe a street out of ten
being accessible by car. All the houses were centered around the two staples of
a country town in Europe: The Castle and the Church. We raced around these
tight and steep streets attempting to get the best vantage of the sunset,
eventually all losing each other and experiencing the sun disappearing behind
the mountains independently and silently.
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