After 7 a.m. mass (I wore my scarf as my favorite watchdog priest was on the altar), I stopped at the neighboring cafe for breakfast; an espresso and a croissant.
"You have to visit Bermago before you go." It was Marisa at the neighboring table. "Make the time; it's only 20 kilometers."
With that, she starts drafting a map, writing down directions city by city, guiding me to my destination.
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| Marisa |
Bermago is on my "to do" list today, and then on to Milan.
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