Translation by Davide Andreis 

10.55 AM
We, TOURists, are in Bologna waiting for Marina to leave for Turin. Meanwhile, we set up our ubiquitous Chiara.

2.22 PM
After a brief stop at the service area, the journey continues with the notes of… “A Cosa Pensano”.
It’s very cold and foggy… The music of Carla resonates in the car… we all sing together… it’s so nice… “Deserts full of light, so close to the heart…”

4:31 PM
We are in Turin, in front of Teatro Colosseo. I have wonderful memories tied to this place. Turin is my childhood’s city… Here, I’ve lived the best days of my life. And in Turin, right here at the Colosseo, I attended several Carla’s concerts. My grandmother used to buy the tickets months before.
She begged the theater staff to put aside two tickets in the front row for her niece who lived in Viterbo and would visit just to see the concert. And then she took the streetcar all alone to go picking them up…
Soon after she used to call me, proud of her conquest. I went to the concerts with her.
She was a wonderful woman. After the concerts she used to wait while I was greeting Carla.
I still remember her image on February 14, 1987. It had snowed, and I was waiting for Carla to come out of the theater to greet her. My grandma, not far away, waited for me, standing, shivering, wit her pale face. I was happy because I was there…
We saw other concerts together after that date. Tonight I will be sitting in the same chairs with Flavio and inside myself, I will devote “Il Contatto” to her.

8:56 PM
We are at the theater. Meeting old friends, friends from the early 80’s: Luca, Claudia…
I’m going back over 20 years. So many memories here in Turin… I wish this were a special evening… The bond I have with Turin is so strong that it won’t be over at the end of the concert…
Every song is a microcosm of emotions that comes back to graze my skin; images slowly slide in my mind, mingling with those projected on stage, the voices, the laughter exploding in my memories mix up with the sounds that invade the theater. A veil of melancholy lays down on my eyes as I watch the stage, I think about the past, I think about the present,
I think about the future. Carla’s musical journey wears out quickly in the usual flow of time;
I have the feeling of having lived with intensity an unusual time, a timeless time.

In each song I find something about me, pieces of a story like many others, fragments of lives, mine and the one of those who I loved, or who I’ve just met in this life…
A special note on this date in Turin: eventually, Mino Di Martino is here.

When we step out of the theater, a fine and cold drizzle awakes me from the slumber of dreams.
We wait a bit for Carla to come out… For us, it’s time hit the road again, in the night that surrounds the highway and our memories… 


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