30On January 24th, it was on Wednesday, we left for Como: my father, my brother Alfeo and me. My mother, though with regret, wanted to stay home with the little Mario. We took a "direct" route to Milan and, subsequently, another train, headed to Switzerland, would take us to Como. We went to stay at the Hotel Posta whose owners, natives of the place, were my good friends.
To not disturb, we did not specify the time of our arrival. I would have felt sorry if they had, for whatever reason, a no hearty but even cold welcome to my father. This was the real reason why we took us straight to the hotel and, after some time, I cannot say I was wrong, but I think I did very well. Our mentality was very different from theirs and I regretted it for years to come.
We would have had to meet in the ev
