Cuccagna (var., Chucagna): a small coun­try not far from Ger­many; accord­ing to some trav­ellers, it is entered through a river. In the middle rises Mount Mecca, a vol­cano filled with boil­ing broth. From its bowels spring forth ravi­oli and other pasta which, rolling down its cheese-​covered slopes, fall into a vale of melted butter at the mountain’s foot.

In Cuccagna, vis­i­tors will see mon­keys play­ing chess, the royal family sleep­ing for three years at a time in a bed of sausage rolls, roast pheas­ants run­ning about to the sound of trum­pets, and show­ers of capons falling from the heav­ens. The soil pro­duces truf­fles as large as houses, the rivers are full of milk or wine. In winter the moun­tains lie cov­ered with cream cheese, and all year round del­i­cate pas­tries sprout along the roads. The houses are made of all kinds of Ital­ian food and the bridges are large salami. Coaches run on their own, with no need of horses, and trees bear all kinds of fruit.

A small foun­tain stands at the dis­posal of who­ever wishes to reduce his or her age by wash­ing in its waters. Women give birth singing and babies walk and talk imme­di­ately after being born. He who sleeps most, earns most; he who is found work­ing is taken straight to prison.

(Anony­mous, Capi­tolo di Cuccagna, 16th cen. AD; Anony­mous, Storia del Cam­pri­ano con­tadino, 17th cen. AD; Anony­mous, Tri­onfo del poltroni, 17th cen. AD)