Cleaning Old Pop Bottles

But Turin spring

Notte. Ancora una di quelle che non riesco a dormire, i miei lettori dovrebbero conoscermi ormai. Ripenso alla giornata e non è stata positiva. Il rimbalzo dell'atteso lavoro a Ginevra sfumato troppo presto, segue l'entusiasmo del rientro a casa che scema piano piano, lasciando posto alla paura di finire nella depressione post-Chicago durata quei 3 mesi infernali.

Eppure quanto era bella Torino ieri pomeriggio? Quando sono andata in centro e ho fatto una passeggiata da Corso San Mauritius, just to see the faces of the university in Via Po ', to the shimmering Piazza Vittorio, where young people-all young and chattering gaily colored sat at the tables of the bars under the white gazebo. And then down the River. The two parts of Murazzi: the left one with the waterfall, and the right side with the Isabella Bridge. The Monte dei Cappuccini right there, in case you get tired of the gray-blue water. The Great Mother sitting in the middle to the end of the bridge decorated with flowers, behind the two statues without disturbing eyes. And the center of the city traffic, which seems a joke to those who come from a city like Bangalore. Cyclists with blue helmet, the old ladies who walk talking about the grandson, some tourists ago a photo pose. And then me. 2 months ago Turin was cold and lazy to shake off the winter. The dried plants were dried, and the icy air. And now instead? Spring has turned. And I want to live here in this apartment on the piazza overlooking the river, or there, what with the lovely terrace overflowing with flowers. Instead walk. The Ancient Glass of Via Giulia di Barolo is the beautiful place of Oriental Studies. How lucky was studied in a setting like this, in a city like this. In the spring, is a dream.