This summer, I accompanied my daughter to a magical region in the southern Tirol of the Italian Alps, so she could study piano for three weeks with some wonderful professors.
Several times a day we would walk down and then up a mountain from our lodgings to the village to attend classes. The trail would turn to road, gravel, stairs, gravel, sidewalk, stairs, and then cobblestone. In the early evening one could hear the music down in the village echoing off the mountains. In the beginning we were panting up the hill, but by the end of the trip, we were easily hiking up the hill. By the middle of the trip, she was often running ahead, not because she was faster, but because of the perceived safety.
The village church is open most daylight hours. Children on bicycles pedal the village. Shrines greet weary travelers who make it up the hill or who embark on a hike. Apple strudel, gelato, and lattes in coffee cups! Afternoon siestas and no internet! Medieval castles and churches.... In the early evening, while preparing to attend a concert in a castle, one could hear the music in the village below.
We loved our simple, summer life, in the summer Alps. A church in the center of a village that rings its bells every hour from seven to seven... Nature all around... When she finished studying, we spent a couple of weeks traveling, but our hearts missed the nature and the quiet village. We have been back a little over a week, and we are starting to feel settled at home again.