The long prospect

Three degrees at 8:30am. Damp and overcast. Not a good day to spend wandering around in Cannobio, but that's just what I did (for my sins, many and various).

Cannobio seems to be a town dozing after its seasonal revels. A town sitting in a cafe over a long-drained cup of cappuccino, staring into space.

Up the hill in Carmine, the last of the visiting Carmenitts have left for home and those for whom this is home are settling down behind closed doors for the new term, for the coldest part of the winter and the long prospect towards Easter.