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As the train’s brakes screeched and brought it to a halt, my gaze fell upon the station sign: “Borgo Val di Taro.” Stepping off the train, we were immediately enveloped by the distinct atmosphere of the village – we had finally arrived

As we made our way into the quaint village, the gentle clatter of our luggage wheels echoed over the ancient stone bridge spanning the Taro River, a picturesque waterway exuding a unique charm all its own. Nestled between majestic mountains, this valley had served as a historic passage for countless pilgrims journeying from Europe to the Holy Land across centuries.

Stepping off the bridge, a profound realization washed over me: this pilgrimage was, in its own way, akin to a sacred journey, and this serene village, my personal holy land.

The next morning, Maria kindly fetched us from our quaint hotel. As we journeyed away from the village, tracing the course of the Taro River, nature unveiled its splendors—a cascading waterfall, majestic rock formations, and a distant castle gracing the horizon. Maria shared her plans to explore several churches with us.

As the river faded from view, the road meandered, leading us to some twist and turns. Suddenly, a small sign on side the road then Maria expertly maneuvered onto a very narrow side street.

Maria, much like Natale Maestri, serves as a crucial guide in our family quest. When I reached out almost a year before our journey, seeking a knowledgeable companion, it felt like a shot in the dark. Discovering that this school teacher shared a familial journey akin to the Maestris was an unexpected joy.

Maria’s great grandfather traversed from Borgo Val di Taro to London via Vigleno, Italy—a parallel journey to that of Ferdinand and Moise Maestri, who were street musicians in London during the mid-1800s.

In our prior exchanges, I mentioned this unique historical connection, and Maria provided invaluable insights that I couldn’t have obtained elsewhere.

Filled with intrigue, my wife and I embarked on this brief pilgrimage from our base in Campi, Albareto, drawn to the enigmatic allure of Vigoleno. Our destination: the cryptic confines of the “Museo degli Orsanti” (Museum of the Orsanti).

In the mid-1800s, Boston’s North End was a lively tapestry of culture, featuring open-air markets and the historic churches of Saint Leonard and the Italian Sacred Heart Church. As if that weren’t enough, the neighborhood was further enlivened by Italian street performers who brought their talents to the bustling streets. With their vibrant music, the street musicians and performers became icons of Italian cultural expression for the immigrant community. Interestingly, the roots of this street performance tradition can be traced back to London, where Italian immigrants had previously established themselves as street musicians.

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