Every evening at ten, the city closed. Tonight it is up to you to reopen it.
“Welcome, Keeper. I am the Campanone, the great bell of Bergamo. For centuries, at ten in the evening, I counted my strokes to close the city gates.”The Campanone
What the narrator asks you. The answer, and the true fact behind it, is for you to find on the spot.
The climb starts here, and I feel it down to my bronze. Two cars hold each other in balance on a steep track: one goes up, the other down. Whoever wants the Upper Town must first allow themselves this little flight.
From the highest hill I see everything: the Venetian towers, the red roofs, the plain fading away. The castle is almost as old as my fears. Only those who climb can count the hills.
From my top you see red roofs, walls and mountains. How many hills can you name? I know them all, but I prefer that you discover them.
“I was born underground,” he wrote. A basement in Borgo Canale, a well and an ice house: a European career starts from here. The whole city still sings him.