More by coincidence than by plan we came across a small coastal town in northern Italy in the beginning of spring one year. Too early for tourists, really, though we still found ourselves there. I'm quite sure that in the summer the beachfront of this town is a lively place boasting laughing kids, smiling parents, yelling vendors and nice seafood restaurants.
Now, however, though the sun was out, the weather was still chilly, the waterfront restaurants were mostly empty, and the beach chairs were all covered up.
Preparing to drive on to the next town along the way, at the end of an alley we spotted a peculiar sight. Not one, not two but three tall, medieval towers stretching for the sky side by side. We parked the car, wandered down the alley and suddenly found ourselves in the midst of a maze-like, old town with rough churches, sunny squares and strong fortifications.
Looking up, you could see the blue sky through the narrow spaces between the buildings, sometimes interrupted by the occational line of laundry. Once we had turned the first corner, the noise of the cars on the busy road just outside was completely gone. The streets of the Medieval village were empty at this point, people probably being at work at that particualur hour. Because it wasn't deserted - the laundry gave that much away.
Walking along these narrow alleyways, it felt like taking a step back in time. You could almost sense children running around, merchants offering freshly caught fish, while chasing away the occational rat, and soldiers defending the inhabitants dwelling behind the city walls.
The contrast of this place compared to the busy and frankly quite bland town outside the walls was amazing. This place was tranquil, interesting and exuding hundreds of years of history. A place of both then and now, as our adventure took us to a beautiful square with a nice restaurant offering us a sunny spot to enjoy lovely treats and spectacular service.