I suppose it’s a sign of getting old when people start visiting the places of their childhood. I’m going do that in April of this year. Hermann and I will be travelling to Trens, a tiny village in
South Tyrol where I spent several holidays with my family when I was a child. We will stay in
the same hotel which is still a family business, now run by the daughter of the previous owners. She still remembered me when we wrote to her. She and her brothers were already young adults at that time. It always felt like home when we were there, everyone was kind and patient with us children. Of course I’m aware that this feeling will most likely not return when I visit again, because so much has changed. The old half-farm-half-hotel has turned into a modern place during the past years – it had to, I guess. Nonetheless I’m looking forward to seeing it all again. Here are some photos:

1970 at a festival parade; I (aged 4) sit on my father's shoulders, my younger brother (aged 2) on my mother's (so I believe); on the right is my father's mother

1970: I wasn't afraid of the cows ;) The cows wore bells round their necks which I loved; still like to hear cow bells and I guess it is because of these childhood memories

1970: with my mother and brother

1971: on my 5th birthday in front of the hotel (wonder whether the bench and table are still there or not)

1971: at a festival parade with the hotel owner's daughter (the current hotel owner)