When I lived in Croatia during the war there, I traveled quite a bit along the front lines and saw a lot of villages that had been abandoned after being bombarded and changing hands between Serbs and Croat forces several times. The difference, of course, was that they smelled of charred wood and weren't nearly as charming as what you saw in Italy. Except for the wind rustling through the trees and the baying of rabid feral dogs, there was little to remind one that life had actually existed there.
Italy, which wasn't even all that far away, might as well have been on a different planet.
I would NOT have wanted to see that. "The baying of rabid feral dogs" doesn't rate huge in the Zagat's Guide. But still...seeing such things changes you. It gives you instant perspective. And that's worth an awful lot.
When I lived in Croatia during the war there, I traveled quite a bit along the front lines and saw a lot of villages that had been abandoned after being bombarded and changing hands between Serbs and Croat forces several times. The difference, of course, was that they smelled of charred wood and weren't nearly as charming as what you saw in Italy. Except for the wind rustling through the trees and the baying of rabid feral dogs, there was little to remind one that life had actually existed there.
Italy, which wasn't even all that far away, might as well have been on a different planet.
I would NOT have wanted to see that. "The baying of rabid feral dogs" doesn't rate huge in the Zagat's Guide. But still...seeing such things changes you. It gives you instant perspective. And that's worth an awful lot.
It does change you. That and some of the other stories I could tell you can’t help but change you...and not for the better.