On a recent sunny morning on the banks of the Adda River in northern Italy, students on a class excursion to Imbersago – “Leonardo da Vinci’s Ferry Town” – gathered next to an moored boat and listen to your guide explain how the flights of birds over the river, the formation of rocks and the workings of ships inspired Leonardo’s genius.
“Why doesn’t it move?” One of the students interrupted, pointing to the ferry that was behind a leash and a sign that said “Service Suspended.” It looks like an abandoned summer deck atop two rowing boats.
Sara Asperti, 45, replies: “The water has to be high enough for the current to move. In addition, they are also looking for a new ferryman. So if any of you are interested.”
Since at least 500 years ago, when the opposite banks of the Adda River belonged to the Principality of Milan and the Republic of Venice, ferries have been running on the water and a rope stretched over a narrow stretch of the river. Leonardo spent a lot of time in the area and outline engineless ferry circa 1513. It is later assumed that he invented the ferry or improved it, although locals say no one knows for sure.
During the last century, replicas of the original ferries that linked the Italian provinces of Lecco and Bergamo, allowing wool mill workers to travel, young Pope John XXIII visited a favorite and nearby temple This is more than tourists and cyclists enjoying the natural paths and yellow canola fields.
But a year after Italy’s worst drought in seven decades – when much of Europe lacked rainwater – a winter without much rain or snow has turned into a dry spring across the north of the country. . In Piedmont, cisterns provided drinking water to a small mountain village. The Po River valley, normally lush and rich in rice, is now arid. In March, a member of Parliament brandished river stones he had collected from the dry Adige River to accuse Prime Minister Giorgia Meloni of inaction.
“I am not Moses,” she replied.
This month, the government set up a task force to tackle the scarcity of rainfall that has also hit Adda, where swans glide across the water so low that islands float, The rowboat ran aground and the last ferry the town called “Leonardesque”. has become a permanent landmark.
“If it becomes a monument, or something static, it loses its meaning,” said Fabio Vergani, the mayor of Imbersago, as he sat on the ferry large enough to hold three cars or a row of goods. dozens of people, but now it’s empty. The boat, he said, is a tourist attraction and an economic engine, but more importantly, it’s “the crown jewel of the town – we couldn’t be without it.”
The ferry’s heartbreaking incident, the mayor said, is “evidence of a global problem.” “It’s not science fiction,” he continued. We are feeling the real effects. The problem of North Africa may become a reality of Southern Europe. Lack of rain and desertification of the territory.”
But some townspeople say that an Italian problem even scarier than climate change is the real culprit that has immobilized the ferry since May.
“The bureaucracy,” says John Codara, who owns a gelato shop next to the ferry.
Since the ferry operators eventually left to run a more lucrative water taxi in Lake Como, no one has bid to take over the €4,500-a-year franchise, even though the town has offered the service. mountain bike rental as a way of sweetening the deal.
The mayor said that no one wanted to operate the ferry because it couldn’t work with weak currents, and tried to explain many things to Mr. Codara in his cafe. But the gelato maker didn’t buy it. After the mayor left, Mr. Codara, who received calls from concerned locals – “You’ll see this guy’s hair,” he said, cupping the phone – remained convinced The technique of the ferry can handle low water.
“I mean Leonardo is not a fool,” he said, under a framed Leonardo. He demonstrated how the ferry works on a small wooden model made by a local pensioner – “It can scale; it’s worth 500 euros,” or nearly $550, and argues that low water levels and weak currents mean operators need to lubricate their elbows to move it over the cable connecting the two banks.
“The force of the ferry is these things,” Mr. Codara said, pointing to his biceps.
What they don’t need is an advanced degree in navigation, he says, as he walks out of his cafe and heads straight for a sign honoring the “Human Face of the Ferry” and its pilots. it in the last century. “Harvard, Harvard, Harvard,” Mr. Codara said mockingly as he pointed to names. “They all went to Harvard.”
Roberto Spada, 75, whose father was one of those ferrymen, said he helped steer the ferry when he was 12 years old and is interested in helping the town by doing it again as a charity. volunteer.
“I think with my permit, I can do it,” Spada told the mayor as they leaned against other signs posted next to the ferry that included both a Leonardo sketch and an excerpt from “Inferno” ” by Dante about Charon, “the ferryman of hell”. .”
A retired truck driver and the president of the local fishing association – whose logo is a ferry – Mr. Spada has a boating license but looks confused as the mayor explains all the certifications and bureaucratic loops that need to be overcome to steer the ferry. ferry.
“It’s been a really long process,” said Mr. Vergani, the mayor.
Meanwhile, the river is at one of its lowest depths in decades.
Volunteers tending the flower beds along the river noticed that the soil was so dry that they had to put down their hoe and use a leaf blower to clean it up. Cyclists step over the leash, their cycling shoes knocking on the ferry terminal, to show mercy on the low river levels. One of them, Roberto Valsecchi, 63, recalls as a teenager driving his car across the ferry, worried that the light amount of snow on the ski slopes this winter meant “we’re going to have to do it” I will suffer this summer.”
Mr. Vergani worries that even if the sky opens up, officials at Lake Como, which supplies the river with water, will store water and “close the taps” to ensure the lake’s survival. The situation looks bleak. Hydroelectric plants in the area have already started distributing water.
Giuseppina Di Paola, 64, stopped feeding geese to talk about how she used to go mountain biking on the ferry, but now walks along the riverbank, where “I found a lot of dead fish.”
Flavio Besana, 70, a local park’s environmental officer, is spending the day off walking the centuries-old path beside the river. He points to the rocks that are considered the inspiration for the landscape in “virgin of stone.”
“All of that is usually covered with water,” Mr. Besana said, pointing to the bottom of the rock. “In 40 years, I have never seen a river like this.”
Near the small town center of Imbersago, the roundabout is decorated with a large wooden ferry model. Losing the main attraction means weekday travel has slowed. Valentino Riva, 66, whose father was a ferryman in the 1970s, irons his shirts in a dry cleaning shop near the main square and recalls the more vibrant days.
“There used to be people in the square,” he said, as the iron hissed. “Those times are over.”
Night fell and the breeze of the day died down, leaving the river as still as a tar pit. Across the water, on the Bergamo side, Angela Maestroni, 64, sits with her husband next to Leonardo da Vinci Street and in front of the small harbor where the ferry no longer sails. They reminisce about commuting on the ferry, watching the birds, and wondering about the future.
“There were months without rain,” she said. “Summer is much hotter. Last year, the sun burned everything.”
Just then, a light drizzle fell from the sky, cut holes in the river and saw the ferry on the other side. Then, just as suddenly, it stopped and the sky cleared.
“It was two drops,” she said. “It’s not enough.”
