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Our village in Italy is called Lubriano. It is a "pass by" village. Tourists traveling to the famous hill-top town of Civita di Bagnoregio (called the "Dying Town" as it is collapsing into the Calanchi Valley below) stop at the edge of our village to gaze across towards their stunning destination no more than one mile away.  Truth is, this medieval wonder of a town is also our view.

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Tuscany, with its distinctive food and wine, gregarious people, ancient landscape and history forged by fact and fable, is a compelling attraction. And while package tours largely eliminate apprehension, they don’t necessarily ensure intimate connection with the culture. After a time, a bus window can become the frame in which the still life of the land is viewed with diminishing passion, and a day here or there soon dissolves into a week of misted memories. Inherent in routine is the danger of detachment.

Published in interchange

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