(A post from Cecile’s Facebook)
“Oh, sad the soul
Who passes by Merano“
Our very first visit to Italy. “Oh you must see Rome! And Florence! You cannot skip Venice! The south coast!“
Friends were adamant, and we settled on Florence. Until the day I read that more than 12 million tourists visit Florence every year.
We started reconsidering. Do we really want to be swept along in streams of people? Do we want to dodge selfie sticks, do we want noise and activity? Hmmm. On a whim I said – what about Merano?
There is a song about Merano, that is all I know about it. And we booked accommodation and went to Merano. With no expectations at all.
We took the train from Munich, and the magic started as we waited for a while at the station at Brennero, the snow drifting around the train, the white peaks and dark pines and spruces besides the tracks. As we went further, we stared at the landscape, the mountains, the houses high up, the many castles on outcrops, the immense peaks, white with snow, the impressive bridges over gorges, the never ending stream of trucks carrying goods between Italy and Austria.
All so new and strange.
And Merano. What a beautiful beautiful place. Not crowded, not noisy, many intricate alleys like a maze, a restaurant around every second corner, no streams of tourists, friendly people, a lovely promenade along an icy river, a place where window shopping feels like wandering in an art gallery. So much beautiful detail, so many ice cream shops, stylish clothes, many many well behaved dogs, church bells that wake one up every morning – and wherever you turn, the immense white snowy peaks of the Alps quietly looming over the city. 
Such magic.
