by Alessandra Ressa
It all started in 2020 during the total lockdown. The first week confined inside our apartment in the city center without a garden and no balcony wasn’t so bad. We were incredulous, shocked, we felt like we were living in a science-fiction movie.
For this reason we watched all such movies which made us feel a lot better. The second week I began to appreciate all this extra time forcefully spent home before and after my online classes. It seemed so much fun wearing pajamas all day, growing yeast, baking for 30 people every day and then feeding the abundant leftovers to seagulls.
By the end of the fifth week I was going crazy. I couldn’t stand listening to my quarreling neighbors all day, dealing with the kids home from school opening and closing the fridge door during every class break as if new exciting foods could suddenly appear on the shelves without anyone ever leaving the apartment. Most of all, I missed my walks in the wild, I literally felt suffocated but didn’t want to break the law, as unreasonable as it seemed to forbid solitary hikes.
To feel better, my family and I decided to plan ahead and book a long summer break, we did not know yet if restrictions would be lifted by then, but thinking about the holidays made us all feel great. We wanted to rent a house in the woods close to home but away from people and the virus, and move there for a month or two. We chose Carnia, the Alps of Friuli Venezia Giulia, to remain in our region. We googled “houses for rent in Carnia” and after contacting several agencies and privates we got a reply from Albergo Diffuso, a municipal agency based in Forgaria del Friuli suggesting a really pretty cottage surrounded by grassy fields and thick woods in a place we had never heard of before called Monte Prat.
That said, we didn’t even bother looking it up on the map… It was a cottage, it was surrounded by lush greens, 850 meters above sea level, there were apparently no neighbors, and pets were allowed.
When the time finally came my partner gave me precise directions scribbled on a supermarket receipt. This is how we usually do it as I have no navigation system in my car and can’t use the phone while driving (also while walking or sitting at times). I followed the directions.
Only one hour and thirty minutes separated me from Carnia’s mountain paradise. However, after one hour and fifteen minutes I was still in the flatlands in unbearable heat and I started wondering why we were not climbing up, and shouldn’t we see mountains and waterfalls and houses with tilted roofs by now.
Once we left the not-so-appealing village of Forgaria del Friuli, about 9 kilometers from destination, a steep climb begun, an almost vertical drive with narrow twists and turns and breathtaking views over the steamy flatlands and the Tagliamento river we had just left behind. At every turn, dozens of sweaty cyclists were puffing heavily while pushing hard on their pedals to reach the top.
When we reached the top we realized we were nowhere near Carnia. We were on a greet plateau covered in prairies and forests of beech trees. Oh well, a little geographical mistake was not going to spoil our holiday. But where was the village? To everybody’s disappointment, there was no village, only a hotel, which was also a restaurant, bar, tobacconist, supermarket, ice-cream parlor, garage, farm, and so many more things. Little did we know, this place, owned by a witty Friulano lady known as La Biagina and her husband, was to become our beam of light.
Despite the first impression, we soon fell in love with Monte Prat and enjoyed talking to its very few residents. They shared wonderful, tragic, adventurous stories with us. The uniqueness of this land, unknown to most yet so beautiful, peaceful and full of history haunted me for months to come, to the point that we decided to buy one of the old stables that used to be one of the humble homes of brave Friulani farmers for generations.
The owner had lived there with his parents as a young boy and then migrated to France. His ties to this land had, however, remained so strong that he managed to spend a few weeks every year in his family home where nothing had changed for six decades or more. Years after he died, his children, now in their fifties, decided to sell the property they had never seen. The house had remained frozen in time, personal effects and all, until we opened it five weeks ago.
We found many surprises inside. Each time you pull a drawer or open a box, something charming from the very distant past reappears. Other times we found some kinky 1970s stuff that made us laugh for days.
From the day we bought the property, I have been trying to learn to survive without the basic comforts, such as hot water. It takes 45 minutes to make coffee over a wood burning stove. But, it seems time runs at a different pace over here, so 45 minutes for coffee is not a big deal.
I simply adore exploring the ancient trails all around and enjoying the deafening chirping of billions of birds (even giant vultures, although those don’t chirp…). True, it was an impulsive purchase, a decision taken on the spot, but I know I won’t regret it. At fifty-something, I finally feel like the queen of the forest.
And, like a real queen of the forest in fairy tales, I have a real wolf paying visits at night. This incredible story and many more coming soon in the Queen of the Forest, Part 2.
