Culture, finally
Yesterday, I had one of the cultural experiences my soul has starved for. There was an Italian film festival at the time when I am not sleeping (anything related to culture normally starts at 9:30 pm in Portugal, following the dinner which starts at 8pm), and I entered a movie theatre at the cultural centre with no expectations as I had not bothered to read the Portuguese description of the movie. It was a semi-autobiographical film by Nanni Moretti called Dear Diary from 1994. The Italian speech which overlapped the Portuguese subtitles that had some similarities with the Italian vocabulary I had picked up seeing all the 37 episodes of Montalbano burned my brain while watching a most relaxing first third of a movie which mesmerizing views and music. After the red silent initial credits, Moretti was driving a vespa through the 90s Rome only stopping to rant to encountered people something related to the cultural past. It really put to test what I always say to peopl...