I have heard about Il Lago di Como (Como lake) a few times in the past and I have found it increasingly more intriguing. Apparently reserved for the rich, so occluded for my penniless existence. As in any “rags to riches” type of story, reaching it had a rather symbolic significance to me, for no particular reason. And now that I managed to save up some money, I thought – why not? Soon I might find myself short of time rather than money to take on such a journey. Thus, aided by the ridiculously cheap flights from Bucharest to Bergamo, I managed to convince one of my dearest friends to take a detour through Como on her way to Zurich.
Even the mere shape of Como reminds me of a delicate, expensive jewel. Not coincidentally, Lambda (λ) was my favourite Greek letter while I was in school. I discovered that the back of the Italian €0.20 coin resembles the shape of the lake. I remembered that in the Novecento Modern Art Museum in Milan I saw a sculpture by Boccioni entitled Unique Forms of Continuity in Space (la-di-da) – and then I saw it in Tate Modern again. It is supposed to be a human-like figure expressing “movement and fluidity” (1) and it was selected to be represented on the back of the Italian coin. I think Boccioni was also making a reference to the “movement and fluidity” of the 410-metre deep Como, but it’s just a guess.
But let’s distance ourselves from superfluous topics. The Como landscape is simply delicious. My eyes experienced what my mouth experiences when I have a spoonful of Pistachio creme. Pistachio creme is my favourite food now. Being on Como’s shores feels like being trapped in an Impressionist painting except instead of oils on canvas the artist used life on earth. It smells like flowers and dew and your loved one’s skin. It sounds like two minuscule angels are playing violins next to your ears. It feels like everything around you is wrapped in satin, like the air is caressing you with its fresh yet gentle breeze.
(1) Petrie, Brian (March 1973). “Futurism at the Royal Academy”. The Burlington Magazine. 115 (840): 196–198.