Everything started one evening between friends, following discussions and stories about the week that had just gone.

Sitting on the jetty on the bank of the Caldonazzo lake were: Alessia Campestrini, a graphic designer known as the ‘Svergola’; Charlie Libardi, the barman; Ivan Trentini, bachelor and seller of dreams and poetry who goes by the nickname ‘Cripton’.

As for me, Lorenzo Morelli, and the narrator of this story. I was sitting to one side as usual, chatting and building international connections between Italy and Holland.

At some point, the heat was particularly intense, the air coming from Trento and one of the three, I can’t remember who, said: ‘We need something to drink!’.

Alessia exclaimed: ‘A spritz!’

– Yes! – I replied – A Valsuganaspritz! – At which point everyone burst out laughing loudly.