Imaginary traveling carries on today from my home desk.
One particular Italian afternoon from several years ago is vividly embedded in my mind…as if it happened only yesterday.
It was an astonishingly beautiful mid-spring afternoon on peaceful Isola dei Pescatori, “Fisherman’s Island”. One of several small islands set within northern Italy’s Lake Maggiore, it is less than 100 kilometers north of bustling Milan.
I had decided early that morning to take a short ferry ride to the island from the lake’s comfortable west shore town of Verbania where I was visiting. A bright, crystal clear blue sky had bloomed after heavy morning gray overcast that recent day in May. The damp scent of nearby laurel, camellia and myrtle wafted across sparkling lake waters, finding a welcome spot within my senses.
Only 60 full time residents now call the island home. Fishing of course, has long been the traditional source of trade for this quaint, sparsely populated isola. Today the fishnets and lines provide ample, hearty fare primarily for local tourist restaurant destinations. After the enjoyment of a casual, al fresco native lake trout lunch at Ristorante La Pescheria, my leisurely stroll through Pescatori’s quaint, winding, shop lined cobbled passages followed.
I soon discovered The Hotel Belvedere and it’s small, inviting, covered patio set near a rocky beach overlooking Maggiore to the east. The Belvedere’s touristy luncheon rush crowd had vanished. A welcome calm settled over the cool, quiet terrace. I asked a young ristorante server if it was too late to sit, relax, and sip some wine while I appreciated the view.
An enthusiastic, “Ovviamente no!”, “Of course not!”, was her reply. A small goblet of cool rose was served. A stunning view of the lake’s rippling blue water and distant peak of Monte Rosa in the stunning Pennine Alps captured me. A gentle breeze whispered through the lightly weathered color canvas panels of the overhead pergola.
I noticed pleasant recorded music provided by a simple, yet efficient outdoor sound system. The melodies drifted over me as I daydreamed, gazed and sipped.
As moments passed, five songs caught my attention as they had segued seamlessly between each other: Frank Sinatra’s trip loving “Come Fly with Me”, “The Dock of the Bay”…Otis Redding’s classic 1968 Memphis Stax/Volt hit, the sentimentally optimistic “What a Wonderful World” by Louis Armstrong, “Heart of Steel” from New Orleans sextet Galactic featuring the incomparable voice of Irma Thomas…and finally The Doors desperate “Riders on the Storm” with Jim Morrison on lead vocals from “L.A. Woman”, circa 1971.
As the set unfolded, it struck me that this was not just any music I was hearing and enjoying.
It was American Music. In Italy.
As I listened and thought, a young couple came strolling hand-in-hand onto the patio and sought the same view and atmosphere in which I was immersed from this Hotel Belvedere vantage point. They easily found a spot to sit nearby.
In the few following moments, those five songs by Sinatra, Redding, Armstrong, Irma Thomas and The Doors created a magical soundtrack accompanying my gentle midday in distant Italy. I found my soul soothed by those timeless songs drifting over a small, comfortable patio in the middle of a dreamy northern Italian lake. The afternoon became a shimmering Monet portrait in my mind as the songs composed a perfect reflection of nearly every genre of American Music that writers and performers have been creating and contributing to our world for decades.
The young couple must have noticed my enjoyment of that space and music and smiled in my direction. As if on cue, they both enthusiastically raised thumbs up as they pointed in the direction from where the music played. It was at that non-verbal moment that those five songs reminded me how much American Music is woven into the fabric of people’s hearts, minds and souls here, there and everywhere.
The jazz, swing, soul, blues and rock in that particular random playlist of Hotel Belvedere music that afternoon…in all its forms, textures, beats and rhythms…to me represented the heartbeat of a nation’s culture.
On that afternoon many miles from my home a young, unknown Italian couple reminded me that the American musical heartbeat is loved. Everywhere.
It’s a vibrant pulse that transcends politics and religion. It’s a power capable of uniting rather than dividing, as well as creating nostalgic thoughts for me one charming May afternoon in Italy, with more than a little help from my traveling companions Frank, Otis, Irma, Louis and Jim.
And the young anonymous Italian couple that blissfully shared with me a nostalgic moment in time.
Thank you all.
And, finally…if you’d actually like to see the location where my Italian music memory was made…you can here at Belvedere Isola Pescatori.
Saluti! Ciao!
Gustav and Sonja Eat 