”Of soup and love the first is the best”
There several ways one can experience a city or a town or a village or a new place, but the most attractive is the moment when you close your eyes and let brain picture or create a carousell of pictures that correlate with the points in history that that certain places has lived through.
Breathe in, close your eyes and let the facts role.
Imagine all the medieval women in their dresses reaching the ground, dirty streets conquering inner walls , humor of peasants and local traders, cry of babies from the windows, mothers putting washed up clothes to dry in the daily sun, local hustlers chasing chances to ‘steal a dine’, army soldiers with strict faces, counts and bourgeoisie walking through the main piazzas and squares trying not to touch the skin of common people. Romance waking up in the corners of the asymmetrical streets, between houses which roofs clouded up the the view. And the voices roaming all around, distributing from corner to corner.
And the scent, the lasting old of history colliding with the passionate dust from stones from mines of Korchula, hundreds of years of creating stories of everyday, all those new born lives, diseases, deaths, robberies, affairs, money, gold, vanity were just bricks of a wall that we now see, all the good and all the bad carved this monument of time, from the upper hills, strong fortress as a eternal watcher of the city with it’s ramparts as tentacles grasping the triangular form of the city. And when the night comes, she doesn’t sleep, she waits for the sun to cuddle the strong mighty black mountains, the bringers of the dawn.
And then , breathe out and open your eyes. Exhale the past, and return to the voices and images of today, with the sound of clock tower bell. Leaning against the surface , but it’s foundation resist the test of time.
Yet, with a better look, the surroundings hasn’t changed, neither had the character of the people. Only faces and clothes.
More coming up next week. Enjoy.