Limone sul Garda

The legend

According to legend, the god Benaco fell in love with the nymph Fillide, who later bore him twin sons Grineo and Limone.

The father wanted his first son to become a fisher and the second a farmer. Since adolescence, however, both youths loved to go hunting on Monte Baldo. One day Limone was attacked and killed by a wild boar.

Fillide desperately pleaded with her husband to bring her son back to life. Benaco therefore prepared an infusion with mysterious blue flowers and gave it to his son, who miraculously came to life. Promptly obeying his father, Limone went to live on the banks opposite Mount Baldo.

He found a lovely inlet sheltered from the winds, and there he made his home and grew lemons, the fruit that was named after him. 

 

The history of Limone

The name for the village comes from the latin word "Limen", which means border. Surrounded by mountains and water the economic was based on fishing, olives and lemons.

In those small streets of the old town you con still breathe the past of Limone. Let the magical atmosphere of those seemingly painted corners flow into your soul.

Every little corner is unique. Small steps leading to tiny squares from where narrow streets leads you through the ancient part of Limone, passing houses, shops and the inhabitants of this marvellouslittle village.

Where the sun hardly warms windows, balconies and capitals you will find the colourful setting of geranium, wisteria, vine and bougainvilleas in blossom, lighting up those charming places and bringing the warmth of Lake Garda to your heart

Then in 1932 the Gardesana Occidentale was completed and at last isolation came to an end. After the worldwars tourism started. The inhabitants started to transform the little fishing village into a tourist resort, which is now one of the most important ones at Lake Garda.

Limone became famous in 1979 when the APOLIPOPROTEIN A-1 MILANO was discovered. This protein which is in the blood of the people born in Limone quickly removes the fat from the arteries and leads it to the lever wich in the end eliminates.

This protein is efficacious against arteriosclerosis and infarct.

La Divina Commedia inferno Canto XX
“……Suso in Italia bella giace un laco, a piè de l'Alpe che serra Lamagna sovra Tiralli, c'ha nome Benaco. Per mille fonti, credo, e più si bagna tra Garda e Val Camonica e Pennino de l'acqua che nel detto laco stagna. Loco è nel mezzo là dove 'l trentino pastore e quel di Brescia e 'l veronese segnar poria, s'e' fesse quel cammino Siede Peschiera, bello e forte arnese da fronteggiar Bresciani e Bergamaschi, ove la riva 'ntorno più discese. Ivi convien che tutto quanto caschi ciò che 'n grembo a Benaco star non può, e fassi fiume giù per verdi paschi. Tosto che l'acqua a correr mette co, non più Benaco, ma Mencio si chiama fino a Governol, dove cade in Po.”
Johann Wolfgang Goethe Italian Trip
This morning at three o'clock I set sail from Torbole with two oarsmen. The wind was favorable at first, so we made good use of our sails. The morning was stupendous yet overcast, and it was tranquil at dawn. We sailed before Limone with beautiful, lush terraced gardens of lemon trees. The garden had rows of square white pillars evenly spaced and arranged in tiers up along the hillside. Large wooden beams sat on top of these pillars and were used to cover the plants in winter. Our slow progress made it possible to observe and contemplate such delightful things. Once we passed Malcesine, the wind completely changed direction and blew northward as usual.
Johann Wolfgang Goethe Mignon
Knowest thou where the lemon blossom grows, In foliage dark the orange golden glows, A gentle breeze blows from the azure sky, Still stands the myrtle, and the laurel, high? Dost know it well? 'Tis there! 'Tis there Would I with thee, oh my beloved, fare. Knowest the house, its roof on columns fine? Its hall glows brightly and its chambers shine, And marble figures stand and gaze at me: What have they done, oh wretched child, to thee? Dost know it well? 'Tis there! 'Tis there Would I with thee, oh my protector, fare. Knowest the mountain with the misty shrouds? The mule is seeking passage through the clouds; In caverns dwells the dragons' ancient brood; The cliff rocks plunge under the rushing flood! Dost know it well? 'Tis there! 'Tis there Leads our path! Oh father, let us fare.