On the way
We've reached Bologne.
It's time to get the mini bus to Sarteano.
Final touch down
We've reached Sarteano.
The day has passed.
I'm returning to the flat.
I sit and I listen.
A village that is asleep
A still village
So still it seems as though it's not really there at all
Are these buildings paintings?
The towering walls are tinted orange from the fanciful street lanterns
All the windows are dressed with shutters and the doors are worn down as if they have stood here longer than time itself
The door handles have embraced many hands and I'm sure will embrace many more hands to come
The buildings are bursting full of stories, secrets, tales untold, past lives
Lives that have since diminished and are no longer with us
Have they really gone?
Or do they live on in the buildings they have touched?
Have they left their mark? Engraved their names in the ever changing sand? Does it make a difference?
Do you ever sit and wonder who was here before you? Who sat in this very same spot? What were they doing? Why?
And although this village is filled with so much wonder and so much history... it doesn't feel real
It feels like I'm in the Jim Carrey movie 'The Truman Show'. Has someone just fabricated Sarteano? Placed a fake village in the middle of nowhere and pretended it's been here for AGES! Just to see how long we would believe them? What if this is all a hoax?
It almost feels as though the age of the buildings are fake
As though it's current state is how it was always meant to look
Well I hope it's not.
How can we really know?
Perhaps it feels as though it's not really real because we aren't used to being immersed in an old villages alike this one? Perhaps it feels as though it's not really real because we are used to seeing architecture and buildings like this in fictional settings - films sets and television shows.
It's a lovely place, filled with lovely people.
More info to come on 'Sarteano: Day 2'.
Thanks for reading.
Here's some pics.