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It has been raining for seven days, but the children are not discouraged: they have been jumping in bed for hours, they are happy, they fill Mom and Dad with questions. They have superhero masks and capes and in the meantime they ask for information about the next stages. They look at their parents: it is difficult to say what will happen now. Day 93. Initially, your company should have taken you to the North Cape, which in retrospect is the other end of Europe, but the closing of the borders has forced to reduce the size of the trip. They call it a company, they talk about it on the phone but warn that there is a risk that the signal will drop at any moment, because the goal of the day is often lost in the mountains or nestled in the alleys of a town of thirty souls. .
Departed from Mestre
They left Mestre in early September for Sicily, a region they should have reached six months later, at the end of that trip through Italy. But the four, backpackers, were surprised, in order, by the second wave of viruses, by the first restrictions, by the yellow, red and orange regions. They were not discouraged. They choose deserted places surrounded by nature, they move beyond the borders of passable regions. His house? A camper. There Giorgia Maroni, her partner Alberto Perin and their children Alvise, 4, and Simone, 2, have lived for more than three months. it all started with a layoff.
shadow carousel
The tour of Italy in a Perin family motorhome
Loss of work
Mine, explains Father Alberto. In March I found out that they were not going to renew my contract in the automotive sector. Giorgia had resigned a year ago to follow the young children. It was there that we decided to drop everything and embark on this adventure that would have made our family even stronger. To finance the trip we rent our house: a few hundred euros to cover expenses. From there, the story is so much like that of a movie: Gaeta and Sperlonga, fish bought at auctions, the appointment every afternoon with the sunset over the sea, Basilicata and homemade bread, Matera, Maratea, Venosa, the Apulia and the elderly fishing for octopus, swimming in November, the amazed eyes of children and the splashes of the Marmore waterfalls. And then the stories, the anecdotes.
The stories
When I arrived in Cisterna di Latina by camper, Alberto says, I told my children that these are the lands where my grandmother was born, who before she died always told me that day when, walking with her brother, she discovered the sea and went fishing mullets with your hands. We did it too, years and years later, on the shores of that same sea. Covid, however, has altered plans. After Puglia, Molise, Umbria, Lazio, Tuscany, Campania and Basilicata came the Italy of colors, that of restrictions. We were missing very few regions, including Sicily. A quick family reunion begins when we sit on the bed. The news of the second wave of viruses convinced us to slowly return to Veneto, where we stopped our squatting. Through the yellow areas we reach Trentino, now we are standing here. And in Trentino that the Perin family will spend Christmas.
In Trentino
We will spend it with the family, isolated but happy, remembering all the people we met, the landscapes that we made our children admire. And in the meantime, they update their Instagram page, “Camp-Heroes”, which has become a log book of their trip. In these three months we have discovered magnificent places. We gave up supermarkets, we opted to buy food from local producers, we visited small shops to discover the specialties of the area, we cooked with our eyes in the sky to see the stars. Some call them “modern nomads”. We like the definition, says Father Alberto. Of course, we wanted to teach our children something: it is not an impossible feat, especially if the goal is to broaden their horizons and, in a sense, get ahead, sail within sight as sailors. We would like our children to remember this moment that has changed us in some way, and to one day tell their peers about it. Perhaps thinking of those images: us, in our caravan through Italy, in that different Christmas. “Mom, will you pick me up?” Alvise leans out of his bed and wakes everyone up. December 13, three months later. And every day, at dawn, like this.
December 13, 2020 (change December 13, 2020 | 20:54)
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