There are only four of them – Como, Garda, Iseo and Maggiore. Fantastic Four. If you look at the geographical map, then Como, Garda, Iseo and Maggiore will not be particularly different from each other. But in reality they are all different – with different characters, beaches and water. Exploring their secrets is more interesting than the beach, even the ocean.
Each lake of the great Italian four has its own flavor. And this is not just a metaphor. The water in Garda, for example, will differ in taste from the water in Iseo. Give it a try. Just scoop your palm. In Lake Garda, the water will be more salty, tart, and almost marine in taste, while in Iseo it will be more “watery”, more transparent, more flowing, although Iseo is not a river, but a lake. The water in Como always seems warm and a little with a touch of some sweet syrup, like a little champagne, while the water in Maggiore is Continue reading
Italian cuisine has long been very popular among residents of different countries due to the numerous pizzerias and trattorias located in different cities of the world. It can be safely called one of the main Italian “attractions”, impressive tourists on a par with the Colosseum and canals of Venice. The aromas of rosemary and basil, the taste of Mozzarella and Parmesan, will not leave indifferent either gourmets or lovers of healthy food. The fact is that the basis of the Italian national cuisine is dough, a large number of vegetables, cheese, herbs and olive oil, which makes the prepared dishes not only tasty, but also healthy.
The “hallmark” of gastronomic Italy is pasta in all its diversity. Pasta is all pasta products with different fillings, for which a lot of products are used in various combinations. The paste can be either a classic Continue reading
I won’t do it anymore. Never.
I walk around the edge when I say that Juliet’s balcony in Verona is actually a sarcophagus. They threw out some nonsense left there from antiquity and lifted it up in the courtyard of her house in a new quality. There was a sarcophagus of death, and became the balcony of love. Love conquers death. The former, they say, collapsed from time to time. Reconstruction.
What I was incurred to lay out the truth the other day, I do not know. I became tired.
But here – laid out. There was no balcony. There was a window. Throughout the vast vocabulary of William of our Shakespeare, in plays, in sonnets, there is no balcony. Although the concept was with him, it is necessary. And the word balcony in English too.
Obviously, someone’s young lips began to twist, and I caught a couple of gaze of unkind female eyes.
He gave Mach. Continue reading