Personally, I’ve always wondered about the people who recorded métro announcements—everything from 'doors opening' and 'mind the gap' to the smooth roll of stop names. Has anyone ever memorized these recordings and used them as a party trick, pretending to speak a language they don't know? In Prague, I learned to recite the announcements in sync with their tinny, mechanical delivery, while imagining the chain-smoking woman who recorded them during Communist times. Now retired, she might be sitting in her panelák flat, reflecting on how the years have flown by.
"I smiled to myself, and remembered that time with Caterina, when we were locked in at the Louvre after closing time and the alarm went off and we ended up at the police station for the rest of the night trying to explain ourselves in broken French, gesticulating." I know you have said you won't specify what is fiction and what is auto-biographically true, but stuff like this makes me so curious which is which.
Favourite sentence: "There was something poetic and mysterious in those rides, something connected to the flow of places and thoughts, as if everyone and everything were in tacit agreement that this was the way -- the only way, in fact -- things had to be."
You and several of your readers are captivated by mystery. I see time as the theme, as a gateway to parallel Universes, in your writing...evocative of lives lived and living...of times seemingly lost and yet recurring. Spirals of time.
"the points they reached at the end of the line were always semi-deserted, quiet, almost surreal, with only a handful of people"--I've always felt this weird ambient dread about terminal public transportation stops but never really thought about it much until reading this.
"But you know all that, don’t you. We shared this mystery, and these feelings, many times. I’m not writing to rekindle, today."
As beguiling as ever, Silvio.
I must read this one again as I've had to catch it only in snatches through a busy evening, but the details and observations about subways ring so true that I could read an entire post just on these thoughts and nothing else (yet, of course, you spoil us with something else by the intimacy of the characters).
"Subways add (and subtract) a dimension to all this: they run underground, so no landscape metamorphosis can be observed, but they construct surprises. Taking a line to its end catapults you into a different world, with no prior -- or rather, gradual -- notice." I just love this.
Thank you so much, Nathan! I’m a public transportation routes freak! Well, a little less so than I used to be, I have to admit. But I’m glad to see you belong to the same camp! I’m sure you can relate when I say there’s so much mystery in subways and trams, especially in old European cities. A mystery that’s hard to pinpoint, but we know it’s there. I find Milano particularly fascinating for surface public transportation (less so for the underground, as we only have five lines -- it’s not a huge city after all). But those old wooden trams are such a beauty. :)
Yes, most definitely understand that. I always enjoy exploring cities via their public transport systems, especially older European cities with such embedded history, for all the reasons you state.
London’s underground is still a baffling marvel to me.
Personally, I’ve always wondered about the people who recorded métro announcements—everything from 'doors opening' and 'mind the gap' to the smooth roll of stop names. Has anyone ever memorized these recordings and used them as a party trick, pretending to speak a language they don't know? In Prague, I learned to recite the announcements in sync with their tinny, mechanical delivery, while imagining the chain-smoking woman who recorded them during Communist times. Now retired, she might be sitting in her panelák flat, reflecting on how the years have flown by.
Such a nice vignette. Thank you for sharing, Jaap!
Should I be worried for Emma?? Come on Silvio, you can keep leaving us hanging like this!!
As usual, your work never disappoints.
Thank you, Remanon! You shouldn't be worried for Emma -- she's a force of nature. Always glad to see you here. :)
"I smiled to myself, and remembered that time with Caterina, when we were locked in at the Louvre after closing time and the alarm went off and we ended up at the police station for the rest of the night trying to explain ourselves in broken French, gesticulating." I know you have said you won't specify what is fiction and what is auto-biographically true, but stuff like this makes me so curious which is which.
LOL, Rick! First of all, thank you for reading and leaving a few words. Second, that fact is 99% true, though I can’t say where the 1% is. :)
Favourite sentence: "There was something poetic and mysterious in those rides, something connected to the flow of places and thoughts, as if everyone and everything were in tacit agreement that this was the way -- the only way, in fact -- things had to be."
In one word, mesmerising.
Thank you so much, Alexander! So glad you liked that one in particular.
You and several of your readers are captivated by mystery. I see time as the theme, as a gateway to parallel Universes, in your writing...evocative of lives lived and living...of times seemingly lost and yet recurring. Spirals of time.
Definitely. Time is the ever present protagonist. Thank you so much!
"the points they reached at the end of the line were always semi-deserted, quiet, almost surreal, with only a handful of people"--I've always felt this weird ambient dread about terminal public transportation stops but never really thought about it much until reading this.
It is weird, isn't it. Glad this made you think of it, Will. Thank you!
Lovely compendium of thoughts, half-dreams, under the ground with vision predominant!!
Thank you, Jill, for your super nice words!
"But you know all that, don’t you. We shared this mystery, and these feelings, many times. I’m not writing to rekindle, today."
As beguiling as ever, Silvio.
I must read this one again as I've had to catch it only in snatches through a busy evening, but the details and observations about subways ring so true that I could read an entire post just on these thoughts and nothing else (yet, of course, you spoil us with something else by the intimacy of the characters).
"Subways add (and subtract) a dimension to all this: they run underground, so no landscape metamorphosis can be observed, but they construct surprises. Taking a line to its end catapults you into a different world, with no prior -- or rather, gradual -- notice." I just love this.
Thank you so much, Nathan! I’m a public transportation routes freak! Well, a little less so than I used to be, I have to admit. But I’m glad to see you belong to the same camp! I’m sure you can relate when I say there’s so much mystery in subways and trams, especially in old European cities. A mystery that’s hard to pinpoint, but we know it’s there. I find Milano particularly fascinating for surface public transportation (less so for the underground, as we only have five lines -- it’s not a huge city after all). But those old wooden trams are such a beauty. :)
Yes, most definitely understand that. I always enjoy exploring cities via their public transport systems, especially older European cities with such embedded history, for all the reasons you state.
London’s underground is still a baffling marvel to me.
Yes! London's underground is marvellous. I can spend hours down there lol. Glad to see we're on the same wavelength here.
heya!! are you back for the last round of WOP? i'll be back as an editor!
I'm not, this time around. Best of luck to you on that!