Siderno, Calabria 89040

I had been on vacation in Calabria for a few days, without too rigid plans. I had chosen a quiet area of the Ionian coast to slow down, read, breathe. One afternoon, as the sun slowly descended behind the hills, I found myself walking in the center of a small town near the beach. I don't even remember the name. But I remember that antique shop well. The window was a fascinating chaos of forgotten objects, and in the center, in a small box of faded blue velvet, there was her: a coral necklace, of a warm and bright red, like certain sunrises on the sea. I walked in almost without realizing it. The owner, a kind old man, told me that the necklace belonged to a young woman who lived in Siderno, many years ago. He couldn't tell me much more, but something about that object had already captured me. I bought it. Later, in the hotel, as I opened the box, I found a letter hidden under the velvet. It was fragile and yellowed, written in elegant handwriting. A man declared his love to a girl who lived in a villa in Siderno, describing a magical place: a fragrant citrus grove, a balcony overlooking silence, and a voice that sang thinking it would not be heard. Those words struck me so much that I decided, on impulse, to go to Siderno. The town was not far away, on the contrary: its position struck me immediately. It was very close to the sea, but it was enough to move a few roads to find yourself immersed in a green and hilly landscape. Perfect balance between coast and quiet. Walking through the streets of the historic center, I noticed an avenue bordered by palm trees. I stopped. At the end of the avenue, an ancient iron gate opened the gaze onto a three-storey villa. Each one different: one simple and severe, the other ornate, and the last... Elegant, with a small flowered balcony. "Each one as different as you sisters are, and the last one who brings your grace and looks out lonely like me to listen to your melodious voice." Those words were in the letter. I had no doubts: that was the house. A man was pruning the garden. A gardener. I approached, he saw me curious and invited me in. As we walked through the abandoned citrus trees and the paths invaded by vegetation, he told me the history of the villa. It belonged to a noble family, then it had remained empty for decades. Now it was for sale. "It needs a lot of work," he told me. "But the structure is solid, and the potential... It is immense and moreover the land is also buildable" He was right. The rooms, although dusty, retained original details: grit floors, frescoed ceilings, wrought iron railings. The garden was a forgotten treasure, with centuries-old trees and the scent of the sea a few steps away and those two semi-ruined buildings at the back of the villa, how many things could be done. I immediately thought of the possibilities: a boutique hotel, luxury apartments, a widespread resort, a place for creative retreats or weddings surrounded by greenery, with the beach less than a five-minute walk away. Siderno is strategic: convenient connections, growing tourism, mild climate all year round. As I went up to the third floor, I arrived in front of the balcony. I stopped. The wind barely moved the dusty curtains. I looked at the horizon and closed my eyes. I could almost hear that voice, faint, intoning a forgotten melody. Perhaps it was no coincidence that that necklace had reached me. And maybe this holiday wasn't just supposed to relax me...