The Knights Without Fear And… (1)

Every castle has its ghost. At Castellengo, the ghost isn’t a specter drifting through corridors in the small hours — it’s a political tragedy, sealed into the limestone like a man walled up alive.

Before the grand balconies, before the cellars heavy with wine, there was only a cliff, a river, and a man with a loyalty that would cost him everything.

Part I: The Exile’s Gamble — From the Tiber to the Alps

The story does not begin here.

It begins five hundred kilometers to the south, in the sun-hammered hills of Umbria, where a man named Alberico stood in the shadow of the Castello di Monterone and grasped, with the cold clarity that only younger sons ever know, that none of this would ever be his.

Continue reading https://exegi.substack.com/p/the-knights-without-fear-and-1

How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Fog

Winter has finally arrived in Biella, and I find myself in the peculiar position of wanting snow. After 22 years of southern living, this is character development I never saw coming.

Snow in Biella is a rare guest — arriving perhaps once or twice, staying for a polite day or two before disappearing, as if it had forgotten an important appointment elsewhere.

But this year? This year, I’m craving it

The Almost-Adventure

The walking group chat has been exploding with snow photos — gorgeous, postcard-perfect shots that make you want to lace up your boots immediately. So last Saturday, after a fresh snowfall dusted the city, I thought: Today’s the day. I’m going to the mountains.

I had errands to run first. No problem. Plenty of time for a little mountain walk afterward. Then I looked up.

Above the peaks: massive, brooding, seriously uninviting dark gray clouds.

My enthusiasm deflated like a sad balloon. Where exactly was I planning to go in that?

Continue reading https://exegi.substack.com/p/how-i-learned-to-stop-worrying-and

The Ghost World Between Mountains

Formula 1 track in the fog

The weather in Biella was miserable—not just cold, but the kind of cold that settles into your bones and whispers that winter has come to stay.

To Pass Through the Fog

I wrote this story many years ago, when I was (yet again) in the situation described here. It's happened to me many times. But I still believe it's written accurately. A small, small, impossibly small man stood before a wall of fog.

It seemed the entire world lay ahead of him—a vast, impossible Universe rising from the earth at his feet and stretching into infinity. These clouds, so voluminous, like immense feather pillows, these billowing masses of fog.

Around him and behind, there was nothing. No one. He stood alone before the infinite. Leaving everything THERE.

There, far away, where no road led back, remained earthly life—so simple, so flawed, so comprehensible and familiar.

He caught himself not fully grasping the finality of this step.

Continue reading https://exegi.substack.com/p/to-pass-through-the-fog

A Rough Week

I’m currently swamped creating content and ads for my classes and courses. This is prime time—when people come back from the holidays, settle into their work routines, and start looking for something to fill their winter evenings.

They’re browsing courses, searching for a distraction from life’s daily grind. So right now, you’ve got to pull out all the stops to make them choose you over the competition. But freelancing isn’t easy. Students are flaky. One day they’re all in, the next day they’ve ghosted you... Today they show up, tomorrow they forget, or suddenly something “more important” comes up. It’s a stressful time for a teacher. On top of that, everyone’s getting sick. And I’m also juggling a lot of volunteer commitments... So yeah... It’s a stressful period.

Where I live in Italy, it has been cold over the past few months, with more rain than sun. So I’ve managed to squeeze in a few walks whenever those rare sunny hours appear.

Walking In A Forest: Discoveries And Encounters

Liudmila

·

16 novembre 2023

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Italians have coined a new term for early autumn walks: foliage. Sounds French, doesn’t it? I’d never heard it before—or maybe I just never noticed people saying it. It refers to that magical time when leaves start to fall, and the ones still clinging to the trees blaze with bright, warm, gorgeous colors. It’s absolutely stunning, but it only lasts until November. After that, they turn a murky brown.

Continue reading this article https://exegi.substack.com/p/a-rough-week

The Garden That Teaches Us to Wait

This Sunday, I'll stand in a garden that took 140 years to become what it is. Not because anyone was slow. Because that's how long it takes to grow a masterpiece. 

Have you ever seen doorbells like this? Lovely!

I’m volunteering with FAI—Italy’s National Trust—at Villa Silvio Mosca in Biella, a place most tourists will never see.

It sits in the shadow of the Alps, in a town known for wool mills and rain. The kind of place many of us skip on our way to more photogenic destinations. But here’s what they’re missing: a lesson our accelerated world desperately needs.

In 1889, Silvio Mosca—an engineer who’d made his fortune in textiles—stood on a bare plot of land. He could have hired an architect. Instead, he drew the plans himself. For two years, he personally oversaw every stone, every tree placement, every sightline. He planted a cork oak, exotic and improbable in Piedmont’s climate. He positioned cedars where they’d frame the mountains just so. He created artificial hills to make a small garden feel infinite.

Then came the waiting. 

Continue reading: https://exegi.substack.com/p/the-garden-that-teaches-us-to-wait

Mountains Are Born from The Graves of Oceans

[Continued from "The Stone Heart of Italy"]

Water that tastes of vanished oceans, flowing toward a sea that inherited the dreams of Tethys.   

The green stones of Monviso are not alone in their exile.

The Stone Heart of Italy

From the hills above Turin, from the ancient terraces of Biella, even on the clearest days, from the distant spires of Milan, one mountain alone commands the western horizon.

Adventures in the Alps: Discovery, Height Limits, and Hidden Charm

Life’s most incredible adventures often come by chance, and my recent trip through the breathtaking Alps was no exception.

This journey reminded me of the unpredictable beauty waiting just beyond the planned destination. Sometimes, the best stories are found when we step off the beaten path.

Colle del Nivolet