At the time of my life I am writing about I was in a sort of free-fall state of being.
I was in Europe for the first time in my life with no particular ambition or reason to be anywhere or do anything.
I had been a US Navy sailor, rock 'n roll musician and a university professor--divorced twice with my best latest good lady friend killed in an airplane accident. I had been around the world with a backpack and that is how and where I found myself.
And I was really enjoying my work and stay at Il Poggio.
I liked Elisabetta. She was different--a "boss" I could both like and respect. She was low-key but got things done. I think she was a few years older than me with a lifetime of European hotel management in a classy Italian/Swiss Lago Majori hotel, and she had bought and restored Il Poggio to be, like I said, her work of art.
Still, I was on the loose--free and easy--and after three or four months I was ready to move on.
So I left--backpacking toward the east with no particular goal--but I also kept in touch by mail.
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