Barolo
The experiences of the last few days caught up with me on the first kilometres from Florence to Barolo in Piedmont. Fragments of thoughts:
Is it not the exceptions to the rules by which one lives that really make life bearable? A bistecca fiorentina for a vegetarian, for example!
Andrea's fear of a new relationship because her fiancé had slunk off and hadn't come back. In every new relationship she was looking for distance - and the possibility of there being no possibilities.
With Roko I only spoke of incidentals, so that the essential would not have to be expressed.
A sign warned me of the toll-booth, another thousand metres. I found a thousand-lire note in my trouser pocket.
I drove on towards Piedmont. I thought back to a discussion with the manager of the Train Bleu at the Gare de Lyon:
Le vin est souvent un pays inconnu. Vivant, il est changeant. Sa découverte peut être comparé à un parcours, voire à un voyage initiatique, propre à développer chez chacun de nous son propre palais, sa faculté de déguster, de savourer et d'apprécier saveurs, bouquets et arômes qui caractérisent chacune des cuvées et appellations.
I was looking forward to this journey to the kingdom of wine.
