Eugi Gufo's siteEugi Gufo

If someone had chosen — and managed — to show me, of all Mandello del Lario (in the Province of Lecco), only its attractive lakeside promenade, I might have concluded that it was merely yet another impeccably curated tourist village of Northern Italy.

The nineteenth-century ferry landing would, on the one hand, confirm the town’s touristic relevance and, on the other, testify to a commendable historical awareness on the part of the local administration.

The architecture of the historic centre, however, is somewhat monotonous and largely devoid of distinctive features.

Consequently, certain buildings appear unexpectedly appealing and original — structures that, in most other Italian towns, would pass entirely unnoticed.

As is often the case, it is the grand old private villas that ultimately safeguard the town’s visual dignity.

In the very centre, one must instead content oneself with narrow alleys left to their own organic evolution: it is precisely this neglect that renders them interesting.

Mandello’s religious architecture is comparatively rich and of respectable quality. The building shown here, for instance, is the Chapel of the Dead.

The seventeenth-century archpriest’s church deserves careful study inside.

The same applies to the Sanctuary of the Blessed Virgin of the River.

The thirteenth-century (?) Church of San Giorgio — constructed, incidentally, in my preferred architectural style — is also reputed to perform miracles. I, a simple atheist smoker, after completing a moderately extended ascent at an approximate inclination of forty-five degrees under direct sunlight in order to discover the church concealed beneath scaffolding, invoked the Lord only thirteen times, the Virgin only seven times, and a morally questionable lady only three times. This is either a miracle or statistical evidence of…

Admittedly, further reflection is required regarding the precise context in which the aforementioned mythological figures were addressed. I considered the matter while observing this view of the lake from a nearby terrace.

The chapels depicting the Stations of the Cross, arranged around the Sanctuary’s small square, initially gave me the impression of an unfenced cemetery situated within the town. In order to prevent similar hallucinations on your part, I shall now abandon the topic of religious buildings.

While walking through Mandello, I began to wonder about the conspicuous presence of Moto Guzzi symbolism in public spaces…

…then found myself admiring the elegance of the monument to Carlo Guzzi, founder of the celebrated company…

…and finally understood: Moto Guzzi has had its headquarters in Mandello del Lario since its foundation. The production facilities remain here to this day.

The town, however, does not live by motorcycle manufacturing alone. The following photograph was taken in the very centre:

Mandello appears well suited not only to industrious adults but also to their children. Near the lake lies a spacious park offering generous greenery and numerous areas for play and sport.

The park also contains a notable number of interesting monuments, though I was unable to photograph them all: in the adjacent grass lay several lightly dressed and insufficiently athletic ladies.

In general, the town is well equipped for social life. Benches, for example, are numerous, varied, and sensibly distributed.

In addition to the aforementioned park, smaller but well-maintained green areas are also present.

I also appreciated the abundance of original and functional litter bins (which, together with benches, are often scarce in smaller towns).

Unfortunately, this does not entirely protect Mandello from rats strolling calmly along the streets. Some are even white.

That said, residents do not abandon attempts to embellish shared spaces.

In the 1950s, the inhabitants even equipped themselves with a Genoese cannon, allegedly to fire at boats that accelerate noisily at night.

A saboteur-blacksmith once devised a rainwater outlet that discharged directly onto the sloping wall of a residential building; the tenants rectified the innovation using simple household materials.

Poste Italiane has contributed to the town’s charm by maintaining in operation a post box of a model I have never previously encountered. Natives of the peninsula may attempt to recall whether all post boxes were once constructed in this manner.

For my part, I hypothesise that Mandello del Lario enjoys an exceptionally low crime rate: what burglar could possibly feel intimidated by the portrait of so amiable a dog?

The attractive railway station of Mandello merits a separate and thorough study.

Opened in 1892, the station remains in remarkably sound historical condition. With minimal cleaning, it could serve as the set of a period film. Meanwhile, one cannot help but wonder: why are human beings no longer capable of producing objects of such quiet beauty?

Conclusion: Mandello del Lario is not a hopeless case.