I love to travel. The privilege of my current situation is that I am able to do that without waiting for my retirement or asking for time off and I am not constrained by the rigid conditions of a business trip. I am my own master. It is up to me to set the time and schedule of places I intend to visit and it is up to me to change them if I am not satisfied. I am not financially constrained or burdened with family responsibilities.
It was a typical villa. Nothing out of the ordinary. There was a park nearby, Roman baths a little further away and over by the road the houses of the small Italian town of Sirmione. The large villa stood on the shore of a large lake. Lake Garda in northern Italy thrusts into the mountains. But here, in its southern part, it was practically an unbroken plain. I asked myself for what reason I was here in this banal place. I did not discover anything new. I had already been here before. Many years before. And now, it was nothing more than time wasted.
And still I felt that I had to come here one more time – this very moment. To get into the spirit of it. After walking through the gates of the Scaligero Castle I headed on foot to the villa…
I glanced at Maria Callas’s villa on Lake Garda one last time, gently pushed away from the curb of the pavement, and without rushing, made my way to the place where I had left my car.
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